by Kerri MacFarlane | Oct 15, 2025 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Helpful Tips, The first Year
Spiritual healing after quitting alcohol can be subtle, surprising, and deeply meaningful. It’s also the focus of Part 3 in our three-month series on the healing that takes place in your first year alcohol-free.
In Part 1 we explored physical healing, and in Part 2 we covered mental healing. Now, we’re shifting to something less tangible but equally powerful—your connection to self, others, and the world around you.
Let’s dig in.
🌱 Spiritual Healing After Quitting Alcohol: What May Happen in Week One
- For many, nothing profound happens immediately. That’s normal.
- But you might have had a moment before your last drink when time seemed to pause—a flicker of presence that let you really see where alcohol was taking you.
- That moment of clarity, however fleeting, may have been the start.
🍃 First Month of Spiritual Healing After Quitting Alcohol
- Your intuition might quietly peek out and ask, “Is it safe to return yet?”
- You may feel a pull toward nature—a walk in the woods, leaning on a tree, or just sitting still under the sky.
- You might experience a few moments of pure gratitude—not for things, but for being.
- Even something simple, like watching a bird or a breeze in the trees, might hold your attention longer than usual.
🌌 Spiritual Growth and Awareness in Months 1–6 Alcohol-Free
- Synchronicities start happening—those “too weird to be coincidence” moments.
- You begin to feel the emotions of others more deeply, maybe even animals or the earth itself.
- You start listening to your intuition and trusting it.
- Your connection to something greater than yourself—something that doesn’t come in a bottle—starts to take root.
- Authentic wisdom bubbles up. Sometimes you surprise yourself with what you say (and yes, you sound a bit like a fortune cookie).
- You begin to sense the universe has a sense of humor—and you’re in on the joke.
✨ Spiritual Healing in Year One of Sobriety: A New Connection to Life
- You start to notice the spaces between life’s events, not just the events themselves.
- You realize this journey isn’t about becoming someone new—it’s about unbecoming what was never really you.
- Books like The Power of Now, The Dao, or The Artist’s Way might find their way into your life—often “accidentally.”
- You may pause before killing a spider, recognizing you’re both part of something shared.
- Decisions shift—you’re guided more by intuition than logic.
- Material things matter less. Moments matter more.
- You find yourself standing in awe of a canyon, a sunset, or a mountain—and feeling it all in a way you never used to.
- You begin seeking wisdom from ancestors, indigenous cultures, spiritual texts—things you once dismissed.
- You may start meditating or exploring your inner self.
- You discover flow states—where time disappears, and presence takes over.
🌊 Long-Term Spiritual Healing and Transformation in Sobriety
- You begin helping others heal, not by fixing, but by simply walking alongside them.
- You value silence and listening as much as speaking.
- Gratitude becomes your default mode—less about what’s missing, more about what already is.
- Creativity returns: music, poetry, painting, dancing—even spontaneous singing while cooking. (The Artist’s Way is a great guide here.)
- The dream world and waking world start to dance—you dream of an owl, then see one the next day.
- Your inner child reawakens—you feel playful, curious, light again.
- You feel less like a wave, more like the ocean. Life moves around you, but it no longer knocks you down.
- You stop labeling life events as “good” or “bad”—they just are, and somehow, they all fit.
- You begin to trust that everything is unfolding exactly as it should.
- And eventually, you realize:
What you’ve been searching for all along has been inside you the whole time.
🌟 The Healing Never Stops
So here we are—three parts, three layers of healing: physical, mental, and spiritual. This list? It’s just the beginning.
Sobriety doesn’t just take something away—it gives you back a connection you didn’t know you were missing. The healing deepens, the awareness expands, and the sense of peace grows.
Whether you’re a week in or years down the road—keep going. You’re not becoming someone new. You’re just remembering who you were all along.
📖 Missed a part? Catch up here:
👉 Part 1: Physical Healing After Quitting Alcohol
👉 Part 2: Mental Healing After Quitting Alcohol
#SpiritualHealingAfterQuittingAlcohol #AlcoholFreeLiving #SobrietyJourney #YearOneAF #EmotionalRecovery #SpiritualGrowth #SoberCurious #HealingInSobriety #RecoveryElevator #ThisIsAF #ConnectionIsTheOppositeOfAddiction
by Kerri MacFarlane | Sep 15, 2025 | Alcohol Free, Early Sobriety, The first Year
Mental healing after quitting alcohol begins almost immediately—but it doesn’t always look the way we expect it to. Welcome to Part 2 of our three-part series on what happens in your first year alcohol-free. In this installment, we’re exploring the psychological and emotional recovery that takes place when you remove alcohol from your life.
In Part 1, we covered physical healing. Next month, we’ll wrap up with spiritual healing (don’t worry—it’s not about religion).
🧠 Mental Healing After Quitting Alcohol: What Happens in the First Week
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The first 24–72 hours? Don’t expect much mentally. Maybe a headache.
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Brain fog begins to lift by the end of the week (it doesn’t clear, just starts lifting).
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Suppressed emotions start showing up—this is a good thing. Let them come.
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Slight improvements in focus.
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Mood swings might hit hard. You may alternate between “I’m a radiant being of pure light” and “I’m the saddest human ever created” approximately every 23 minutes.
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Memory recall starts improving.
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Anxiety spikes, then begins to settle.
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Depressive symptoms lighten slightly. The internal weather shifts from “apocalyptic storm” to “light drizzle with a chance of sun.”
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Your self-image starts to shift. Shame softens, guilt fades.
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A quiet sense of morale reappears. Your inner cheerleader shows up to practice again—tentatively, but there.
💡Cognitive Changes in Sobriety: Mental Healing in the First Month
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Thoughts become clearer. Concentration improves. The mental fog now resembles a mist.
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Dopamine starts showing up for things like sunsets, puppy videos, and hugs—not just alcohol.
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Moods stabilize a bit. Emotional storms downgrade from hurricanes to unpredictable showers.
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The amygdala (fear center) calms down without the fuel of alcohol.
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Stress is managed more skillfully. You’ve already navigated a few sober challenges.
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Mental stamina improves—reading a whole book chapter or watching a full movie without checking your phone 17 times? Big win.
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You notice tiny sparks of joy in small things.
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Decisions start aligning with your values. Fewer time-travel regrets.
🔁 Psychological Recovery After Quitting Alcohol: Months 2–6
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Emotional regulation improves. You now respond instead of react—most of the time.
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You start seeing thoughts as thoughts, not truths. “I’m a failure” becomes “I had a thought that I’m a failure.” Huge shift.
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You start collecting emotional data—what triggered you, what helped, and what didn’t.
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Dopamine rewiring continues. Activities like hiking, reading, or deep convos become satisfying.
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Oxytocin joins the party—you might prefer puppy snuggles over pints.
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Melatonin returns to baseline. Sleep becomes a friend again.
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Emotions feel richer and more layered—life is now in emotional HD.
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Long-term memory returns. Gaps in memory shrink.
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Serotonin production stabilizes. Your brain is making its own joy—no booze required.
🎉 Mental Health After Stopping Drinking: What Year One Looks Like
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Significant brain tissue repair. The brain’s “skeleton crew” has been replaced by a full team with blueprints and fresh paint.
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Forgiveness becomes real—especially self-forgiveness.
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Dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphin systems are functioning as intended. No artificial boosters needed.
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Shame and guilt dramatically reduce. You know you’re doing what’s right for your body, brain, and soul.
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You can be alone with your thoughts without needing to numb out, scroll endlessly, or eat three dozen cookies.
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Mental clarity returns—along with the belief that you can do hard things. (Maybe not calculus, but let’s keep expectations realistic.)
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Anxiety is mostly gone. What remains is manageable and often just excitement in disguise.
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Sadness and depression still happen—but they pass on their own, no longer swallowing you whole.
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You can problem-solve. IKEA furniture? Bring it on.
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Confidence and self-worth return. You are no longer on a path of destruction—you’re building something beautiful.
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Emotions become allies. You don’t run from them—you listen to them.
🚀 Mental Healing After Alcohol: Why It Only Gets Better From Here
This is just a short list of what’s possible in your first year alcohol-free. Mental healing continues far beyond 12 months. The longer you stay the course, the more peace, clarity, and confidence you build.
Maybe the biggest shift of all?
How you feel about yourself.
Because you’re not just quitting alcohol.
You’re choosing to live. Fully.
📖 Missed part 1? Check out the Physical Healing post here.
🧘 Stay tuned for next month: Spiritual Healing (No Religion Required).
#AlcoholFreeLife #MentalHealthRecovery #SobrietyTools #RecoveryElevator #WeDoRecover #ThisIsAF #SoberNotBoring #EmotionalGrowth #AFJourney
by Kerri MacFarlane | Aug 15, 2025 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, The first Year
Physical Healing After Quitting Alcohol: Year One Overview
One of the most common questions I hear in Café RE is: What happens to your body after you quit drinking? While everyone’s recovery looks a little different, the first year is full of powerful changes. This post outlines what physical healing after quitting alcohol may look like in those early days, weeks, and months—highlighting how your body begins to repair itself as soon as you stop drinking. 🌸
🌬 Week 1: Detox & New Beginnings
During the first 7 days you may notice:
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Withdrawal symptoms peak then begin to clear
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Heart rate & blood pressure start normalizing
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Digestive lining begins repairing
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Sleep improves after the first few rough nights
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Hydration and inflammation drop
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Liver begins its amazing regeneration
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Dopamine systems rebalance—you may even crack a real smile
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Confidence returns—24 hours sober feels like a win
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You feel more… human, emotional, alive
🌟 Month 1: The Glow Emerges
By week 4, many report:
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Better liver function and bile production
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Less puffiness and clearer skin
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More stable weight and metabolism
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Brighter eyes & improved immune response
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Blood sugar regulation and less acid reflux
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Boosted energy levels and reduced caffeine dependence
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A noticeable glow and curiosity—“Maybe I could do a 5K?”
🧭 Six Months: Strength Returns
Around the six-month mark, your inner systems realign:
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Reduced stress responses and cortisol levels
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Increased neurogenesis—new brain cells 🧠
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Cardiovascular improvements and steady liver enzymes
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Better stamina—stairs don’t feel like a mountain climb
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Friends may sense “something different”—your energy shifts
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A true inner glow begins to radiate
🏃♀️ One Year: Full-Body Recalibration
In your first sober year, expect:
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Ongoing liver regeneration
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Lowered risk of heart disease and certain cancers
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Balanced hormones and metabolism
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Deeper, more consistent sleep
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Improved insulin sensitivity
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Skin renewal and a luminous complexion
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A new steady state in weight and energy levels
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A renewed spark in your eyes—healing really is in the gaze
🩺 External Evidence
Research from Johns Hopkins Medicine confirms this—especially the liver’s ability to recover from early alcohol-related injury, including fatty liver and alcoholic hepatitis, when drinking stops.
🤔 About Weight & Expectations
Weight change varies—some lose, others gain. Instead of stressing, let your body find its natural setpoint. Trust its wisdom and let reassurance follow: your body wants to heal.
🎧 Have You Listened to RE 531?
Tune into – RE 531: What to Expect When We Put the Bottle Down to hear Paul’s full intro and supporting research. Or join our insightful conversations in Café RE.
🔑 Final Takeaway
Healing starts with your body. It’s quiet, ongoing, and profoundly real.
That glow in your eyes? It’s the beginning of a lifelong recovery.
by RE Helper | Jan 15, 2025 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, The First 30, The first Year
Today’s blog entry is from Jamie Riel. Jamie is a member of Café RE Blue.
Hope Rising: The First 30 Days of Sobriety
By: Jamie Riel
The first thirty days of sobriety began where the fifty years of drinking left off. It’s not my first attempt at being sober—far from it! There had been many first days and several short stints with sobriety, but the myth of moderation was powerful – a relentless false god. Of course I can control it. Of course I can drink responsibly.
Of course, I couldn’t.
The last binge began shortly after my wife left for an overnight visit for a baby shower. My moderation plan listed 2 drinks. In retrospect, a 2-drink limit on an overnight alone is downright cute. A sober joke. I mean, I’m staring at hours of blissful alone time. I put up a front of confident self-restraint all morning, even as the tiny voice inside laughs and knows what is to come. By midnight, the counter is littered with empty beer cans, scotch nips, a pinot grigio bottle. Shame rushes in. The self-loathing of failure. The lie is revealed again.
It is time. I haven’t reached bottom because I know I can go deeper and I sense how ugly that would be. This is as deep into the ugly that I dare go!
There is nothing fun about these first 30 days. I constantly vacillate between rising hope, ecstatic relief, and naked fear. Though I am certain sobriety is the right decision, a driving inner force screams there is no way in hell I am going to do this.
Emotions flitter in and out like backyard birds to the feeder.
This is the most surprising element in these first days. I have used alcohol for decades to mask or manipulate my emotions. Now, with the booze gone, they appear at unpredictable times, and engulf me. At times I am overwhelmed with feeling vulnerable. Fragile. Untethered. But, I strive to be more mindful and eventually can watch my emotions pass as clouds in the sky, rather than as storms I need to shelter from or trudge through.
Fear sits on my shoulder every moment, sometimes just quietly resting, sometimes whispering in my ear, sometimes screaming! Fear of drinking again. Fear of not drinking again. Fear that I am actually going to do this! Fear that I can’t! I keep going.
Regret visits me more and more.
The realization that I took my first drink 50 years ago is staggering. The poor decisions I made, the people I hurt, the self-loathing I nurtured that dragged me down during those many years. The time and energy and opportunities squandered. The money wasted. What have I done? Pushing down the regret is like trying to keep water from overflowing from a bucket with my hands.
But there is much relief in letting go of my near constant obsession with planning the drinking day, letting go of the constant schemes of keeping the drinking evidence hidden, the determination to keep the buzz under control. Relief in no more nursing hangovers so I can feel good enough to drink again in the evening. The mornings become heavenly.
I burn ships.
I tell people that I am no longer drinking, but that is not the hard part. The challenge is in sharing the why, and though I don’t need to share that with everyone, I do need to share it with those closest to me. I know it keeps me accountable, that there is now no going back without people noticing. I fear that when I tell them, they will be disgusted with me. They are not. They ask how they can help. They say they admire my decision. My hope rises.
I tell them I am not drinking because I can’t. For me, moderation is a myth. One, two, three drinks is simply never enough. I share that I have been drinking for decades and that it has always been an integral part of my life. I tell them I binge when I am alone:
“Ah, yes, I see,” they say. “I never knew.”
“I know,” I respond. “You weren’t supposed to.”
“Ah,” they say quietly. They smile.
I don’t.
Joy and shame walk this new path hand in hand. There is joy in the realization that I won’t be lying about my drinking anymore, and shame in the amount of lying I have done. The shame is as bright as a desert sun in June, and though I shelter from its powerful heat, it is always there. I realize the impact of adopting honesty with myself and others is a magnificent gift of sobriety, and the fact that I am forgiven for the lies by those who love me is a gift beyond measure. It helps dilute the shame. I begin to forgive myself.
Sobriety is my priority.
I visit the Café RE platform several times a day, attending chats and sharing – though it is scary as hell. The support of these people is amazing! I am not alone. I listen to RE podcasts for the stories of others – “look for the similarities” – and there are many. I read “Quit Lit.” I create and listen to a sobriety playlist.
I develop a Relapse Prevention Plan which proves to be so important. Pushes me to put into words the naked truth about me as a drinker. I read it every 10 days or so as a reminder. I tweak it to make it a truer reflection of my present place and purpose. I share it with my sobriety team. They say they are honored to be there for me. My hope rises.
I talk to my wife every day about how I am doing. Share the darkest secrets. Explain what addiction feels like until she finally realizes that she will never fully understand, and that seems to free her to love and support me even more. I realize how much my actions have hurt her. She has been waiting for the true me for a long time. Maybe our love will grow stronger. My hope rises.
I fight cravings with focus.
Sometimes I write. Sometimes, physical activity like walks and hikes. Work on our land. Listening to podcasts and music. I align the activity with the force of the craving. Deep desires to drink require hikes on forest trails or chopping firewood. The witching hours of 4:00 – 7:00 are never left to chance. RE podcasts, chores, physical and/or mental exertion and focus.
I always loved the ritual of drinking. Creating mocktails in elegant glasses has redefined the ritual and does not trigger me, but rather adds a comfort to my palate and mind. An NA IPA at “beer-o’clock,” an old ritual redesigned for a new life. A dealcoholized cabernet with several splashes of non-alcoholic bitters give it the oaky-edge on the palate. Spritzers of all kinds.
I embrace mindfulness meditation and return to writing to revisit and restore my inner self. I begin building a new life that has no room for alcohol.
I believe that giving up alcohol is not a burden to live with for the rest of my life, but an opportunity to live my life more fully. This focus is my mantra.
I am living under no illusion. Things are getting easier, but the cliff to that ugly bottom is never far away. At this writing I am 60 days in. Sobriety remains a major focus. It will continue to be. It must be. As long as it is, hope rises in me every day.
by RE Helper | Aug 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, The first Year, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Jeff Miller. Jeff has been a member of Café RE since March 2024. He can be found on our zoom chats and supporting fellow members of Café RE.
Forever
By: Jeff Miller (Café RE GO)
There I was at 6 years old kneeling next to my bed repeating the same prayer over and over again, “Come into my heart Lord Jesus”. I would say it 10 or 20 times a night until I thought that I had annunciated each word perfectly otherwise it would not be acceptable to God and I would be destined for eternal damnation in outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.
55 years later those same words still echo in my mind.
I was raised in a charismatic Pentecostal church, in a small town where my Sunday school teacher had a captive audience of young boys. We were taught that if we were good and followed all of the rules, we would go to heaven. If we slipped up and sinned we would burn with eternal fire. I was in constant fear of Hell.
I entered into marriage when I was 22 to an 18-year-old girl who met my qualifications. She was pretty, and she went to the same church that I went to. We quickly had a child and my life of being manipulated and controlled by fear continued for 28 years.
One of the only shows that I could watch was 19 Kids and Counting, a reality TV show about a conservative Christian family with 19 children and more on the way. One of their practices was for the boys to not look at girls or women who were immodest. If there was anyone around them when they were out they would call out Nike! Which meant for the boys and Jim Bob, their father, to look at their shoes. My wife adapted this practice and would be constantly saying “Nike! Nike!” And I would have to look down until she said it was clear.
By the time I was in my 40s, my life revolved around discussions about how it is not proper for women to wear pants and, God forbid, bathing suits. By then, my daughter was in college. I was not only trying to defend myself but also her and the decisions that she was making as an adult. I recently read the book by Jill Duggar, Counting The Cost, which opened my eyes and brought my life of religious trauma rushing back.
In 2012, I finally filed for divorce.
I believed in my heart that I was making a decision that would lead me to an eternity in hell with no possibility of any reconciliation with God. This was an extremely difficult thing for me to live with. So I decided to relieve my guilt and shame with alcohol; after all, I was going to burn anyway. I never was a normal drinker.
I quickly began drinking a six-pack a day on the way home from work. Then I would hit the bars on weekends, including Friday Jr. I was often really hungover for work on Friday and Monday. At the height or depth of my drinking, I was spending over $500 per week on alcohol. Not including my generous tipping. Despite my drinking habits, I was blessed to meet the love of my life. We spent a substantial amount of time drinking together, but as you will see, our relationship was much more than drinking. After 2 years together, we were married.
Flash forward to Sept 7, 2023, and I’m meeting my CPA and my banker for drinks at lunch.
We drank a couple of bottles of wine and then departed back to our offices for work. Except I didn’t go back to my office. I went to a little craft beer place that was just across the street and had 3 or 4 beers. I got in my car and texted my wife that I was on my way home. About 30 miles from home, there is a little highway dive bar that I liked to sing Karaoke at. I thought I could squeeze in a couple of drinks and a song before continuing home. You would think that this was enough but nooo. I then drove another 10 miles and saw a Casino that I had never been to before. And decided what the fuck! I’m going to hell anyway.
At some point, I was outside of my body, watching myself. It was so strange.
I was buying drinks for complete strangers and throwing money around like I was Elon Musk. I somehow got hooked up with a woman that I had never met before and found myself checking into the hotel with her. I had never done anything like that before, and retrospectively, it cuts me to the core. I honestly don’t know what happened after that. It was 5 AM the next day. I was sitting in my car in the garage at home, not knowing how I got there. I was still drunk. Apparently, I had made a 20-mile drive on a very dangerous mountain road in a complete blackout.
My wife had moved into the guest house and cut off all communication. I went into the house, took a shower, and headed to an early breakfast with 2 bottles of Prosecco. I staggered into the winery around midday, making up all kinds of lies to explain my meltdown. I texted a friend to meet me. I ended up destroying my relationship with him and others before getting in my truck and driving home.
I woke up the next morning to the absence of my wife and a pounding headache.
I had betrayed my wife and my 17-year-old daughter in the deepest way. It made me sick to tell her the whole story, but I did. At that point, I didn’t know if she or my daughter would ever take me back. I spent the rest of that day trying to do damage control with those in town who had talked to me the night before.
My first step after that was to stop drinking for a while. At least long enough to try and repair the damage done to my family. My wife, who also had been struggling with alcohol, had several quit-lit books on Audible, so I started with Laura McKowen’s We Are the Luckiest and listened to it straight through. After completing the book I began to consider that I might have a problem with alcohol. Duh!
As the days passed and my wife and daughter were nowhere near reconciliation I had to do some real deep introspection. The days were hard. I was sweating and shaking. I could hardly get a glass of water or coffee to my mouth without holding it with both hands. I was experiencing uncontrollable head tremors and was extremely agitated and anxious. My only concern was that I could lose the most important people in my life. I was just stumbling through my days, dizzy and disoriented. That is when I had the thought that stopping for a while wasn’t enough.
It had to be FOREVER! SHIT!
I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that! But telling them that I was going to quit drinking for a while was like telling them that I wouldn’t hurt them again for a while. So, on my way home from work, I picked up a lot of poster board, and in Love Actually style, I wrote out my apologies and promises. One for my daughter and one for my wife. It had been 10 days and I don’t know if I was sick from alcohol withdrawals or missing them. They were still not speaking to me. I texted both of them and asked them to please meet me at the large glass doors at the back of the guest house.
I didn’t know if they would.
I prayed to a God that I had failed and whose judgment and wrath awaited me —please, God, If you still hear me, please help me with this. Help them with this. Please show me the way. I rounded the corner to the large glass doors and saw them both sitting attentively on the edge of the bed. With tears in my eyes, the same way that they are right now as I write this, I started the cards with my daughter first. On one of the cards it said I PROMISE TO STOP DRINKING and the next card said FOREVER.
Then I did the cards that I designed for my wife containing the same words. I PROMISE TO STOP DRINKING FOREVER. Broken, I could hardly stay on my feet. As I walked away I could see a flicker of hope in their eyes and even a bit of a smile. My last card for each of them. I LOVE YOU!
Soon after, my wife was back in the house, and she let me know that she had decided to quit alcohol forever also.
So we began our new journey together by getting an online sobriety coach, Teri Patterson, who really helped us and got me through some really tough days. We both started reading a lot of “quit” lit, and each of us found Recovery groups. Mine is Recovery Elevator / Café RE and hers is Write Back to You by Meg Geisewite, author of Intoxicating Lies, One Woman’s Journey to Freedom from Gray Area Drinking.
The RE podcasts were incredible and the stories there gave me hope. I went back to the first one and started listening straight through. Then I discovered Café RE where I signed up and began listening in on the morning chats every day. Even though I haven’t spoken yet because I am at the gym at 5 AM I still am beginning to feel like these people are my family.
Rebuilding my life required me to get to the root of the whys of my life. Why I started drinking and why I stopped.
I started talking to a therapist who happened to be an AA Sponsor and has been sober for 20 years. I’m starting to think that God might still hear me and that he might still love me.
Another big part of my recovery is meditation. I couldn’t even imagine that I would or could actually meditate, but thanks to a book by Dan Harris, Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics: a 10% Happier How to Book. I got started doing just 2 minutes a day, now I am doing close to 20 because it is part of the foundation that gives me peace throughout my days.
I am seeing everything more clearly. Finally dealing with all of the things that I was avoiding with alcohol, and it is hard. I really felt like shit for the first few months, but now the dark clouds are beginning to lift, and I am building hope and peace. I am accepting that God still loves me and hears me when I talk to him. I am softening my religious rigidness and know that I am a work in progress. I am more accepting of others and their beliefs.
Sometimes, I still battle my condemnation and my desire to drink it away. I then have to make myself go back and remember that God never left me, and the ones that I love the most took me back.
Saying forever seems like a lot to live up to, but for me, saying forever makes one day at a time possible.
by RE Helper | Apr 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, The first Year, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Ana. Ana has been a member of Café RE since April 2023 and is an active and supportive member of her Café RE OG group!
Staying Hopeful Through This Long Journey
By: Ana (Café RE OG)
Around 4 years ago, when I finally admitted I needed to tackle my drinking problem, I truly believed I wouldn’t be able to go a single day without alcohol.
It was scary.
It’s taken a lot of work; programs; books; podcasts; tears; failures; dollars; etc., but I’m pleased to say I’m on a good path to recovery.
Lately I’ve been feeling stuck though.
For the last 2 years or so, I’ve been trapped in the same cycle: I go about 3 months without alcohol. I don’t miss it; I hate it; I gag thinking of the taste. One day I get the nagging idea that I can drink moderately, like I used to.
I don’t want to go back to drinking, even in moderation. I just HAVE to prove to myself that I can, just one final time. I then try, it doesn’t work, and I end up back to square one with a new horrible story under my belt (I’m a binge drinker). It doesn’t make any sense – it’s my brain tricking me into drinking at all costs.
It usually goes like this:
I haven’t drunk in months and I feel great, so I’m CERTAIN it will be different this time. I never go out and order a cocktail or a nice glass of wine though. I buy a pint of the cheapest vodka at the liquor store across the street; rush home; and take around 3 shots asap.
I tell myself it’s sort of the same amount as a martini, therefore I had just a martini, therefore I’m “normal” (nothing wrong with one martini, right?).
Or I’ll buy a single serve can of wine at the market downstairs. I’ll chug it as soon as I walk out of the market; can’t even wait the elevator ride back home.
I tell myself it’s one serving, one generously poured glass; therefore, I had just one glass, therefore I’m “normal”.
Obviously, nothing about this is normal. Most times, I succeed and stop drinking that day. This should be the proof I was looking for, so this should be the end of the story. But I wake up the next day feeling hungover; guilty; and defeated. I go to the market and chug a can of wine by 9 a.m. to numb the crappy feelings.
Sometimes that does me in; sometimes I go a couple more days playing with fire like this.
Eventually I ALWAYS lose control and end up in yet another life-altering, humiliating binge.
This is a cycle I haven’t been able to break yet, and I so want to change that. Today I was at that crossroads. On Wednesday night I had my 3 shots of nasty Skol vodka (my “martini”). Thursday morning I felt wretched, so I eventually caved and had chugged a can of wine by lunch time. I miraculously didn’t drink on Friday. On Saturday though, the nagging discomfort was unbearable. I had some vodka in the afternoon.
My boyfriend was picking me up at 6 to go to a party. The risk of him finding out I’d been drinking and ruining the evening and further damaging our relationship didn’t stop me from having a can of wine dangerously close to 6. I felt miserable at the party, trying to act normal and not get caught. I just wanted to come home so I could have another can of wine before bed. To my annoyance, when my boyfriend drove me home, he wanted to come upstairs and hang out. I couldn’t wait for him to leave (how sad), and I got my can of wine as soon as he left.
Today is Sunday. I woke up, you guessed it, hungover and depressed. Every Sunday morning I volunteer at an animal shelter. On a similar Sunday, I would’ve stopped at a Walgreens on my way and bought/chugged a can of wine. In the afternoon, I would’ve stopped at one of the many liquor stores I’ve memorized on my route home. And that would’ve been the beginning of a dreaded binge.
I kept thinking the eventual binge was unavoidable. I even wondered if I should just get it over with, instead of torturing myself. I had to try harder, do things differently.
I played an episode of the Recovery Elevator podcast on my way to the shelter.
I picked one titled “What to say to someone who is about to drink” – fitting, I thought.
The guest’s name was Grant. His story is very different from mine, but also VERY similar. It brought back lots of harsh memories, as well as many insights I needed to hear today. Paul and Grant praised the several guests who have gone on the podcast with around 2 months’ sobriety. It felt good to hear someone acknowledge how difficult and admirable it is to cobble up 2 months. But it also felt frustrating. I’ve been a “two-monther” for 2 years now; I desperately want to graduate to the next stage! You know, the one where it gets easier!
In AA they talk about one day at a time. Today was more like one hour at a time. The Recovery Elevator podcast and conscious shift in mindset helped, but the day still felt like an endless minefield. It was sad to drive past my liquor stores and not stop. One even had an open parking spot right in front, like it was meant to be! I stopped for gas and found myself browsing the wine/beer section (I bought a Gatorade instead). I sat in my car when I got home, considering walking to the market, or even the liquor store.
I feel happy and relieved to report that I didn’t drink today.
I feel like crap, but I know tomorrow I’ll feel better thanks to today’s decisions, so I’m calling today a good day, a win. Abstinence is still my goal, so having broken my sober streak has me feeling defeated and upset.
But I have renewed hope: I did something different, and got different results. Maybe this is how I break the cycle.
