6 months sober
Today, I am 6 months sober. How I ended up here didn’t involve weeks, months, or years of binge drinking that ended up with DUIs or total alienation or destruction of all my relationships. I realized that I was using alcohol to cope and hide from feelings and emotions. To relax and unwind, but alcohol does the opposite. It is a poison that our society has socially accepted and justified its use in moderation through utter stupidity and denial. It starves us of nutrients, damages organs causes depression and anxiety through its ability to rob us of dopamine, and it leads to decreased performance overall as humans. One drink can do this, yet many people keep telling themselves, “I don’t have a problem with alcohol because I can just drink one.” That’s the lie alcohol has us believe.
But enough about the societal problem with alcohol. This will be more about my physical and mental health and how pouring bottles of wine into my glass stopped me from getting to where I wanted to be: the best version of myself. It caused me to overeat, overspend, oversleep, and underperform. It stole my ability to lose fat and left me feeling lost, alone, and angry after working in the ICU through an entire pandemic. Even though my problem with alcohol began well before the pandemic, it became more apparent when I would plan which days I could drink and not have to wake up early. I would look forward to having some beers outside after a long, challenging workout and sleep-deprived after a night shift, completely ruining my body's ability to recover. I told myself I deserved it after the hell I had gone through. After nights of multiple codes, seeing how mangled people’s faces were from proning them for a month, seeing children break down crying as their parent was leaving for hospice, watching people suffocating because their lungs had been scarred and destroyed by a virus that people didn’t think existed. Putting multiple people per shift into body bags made me numb, and drinking was the only thing that stopped it. I know many nurses become sucked into this dark hole of sadness, but this was far deeper than I ever thought possible. I eventually had to seek counseling, which helped, but I continued to misuse alcohol.
Eventually, I discovered that the very thing I thought I was moderating was ruining my chances of being physically and mentally healthy. Sure, I could always pull myself together, be strong, lift weights, never miss a workout, be great at work, get my homework done, get decent grades or even do it hungover, but when did I have enough of it? Exactly 6 months ago, it was. I looked in the mirror, snapped three photos, and looked at myself. I was not happy with what I saw, I was not happy with how my face looked. I was no longer proud of myself for risking my safety and mental health. I knew it was time to give it up because I was worried about what other people would think if I quit. Read that again. Yes, I avoided doing something good for myself because I worried about what others would think. It proved that if I am willing to continue to do something destructive for the sake of others, it is not for me. One of my core values is never going along to get along. I don’t follow the crowd if it’s not who I am. And this was not in alignment with who I am. It makes sense because this country emphasizes stress relief, celebration, and relaxation on a poisonous, toxic substance. I know that food is a substance and most certainly can be misused. It at least provides nourishment, energy, and purpose. Even a donut can get me through another hour of work without clouding my ability to focus. I know that’s not the best choice, but I’m making a point.
The purpose of this post is not to convince you or anyone else to quit drinking. It doesn’t bother me that people drink, nor do I judge. It is not my place to tell people what to do with their lives. But one thing I can say as I’ve sat back, watching the world with sober eyes, is that I wasted so much time being tired, sad, numb, stagnant, and unhappy. Alcohol paints a fake smile on your face when you’re dying inside. I lived with the illusion that alcohol is required to have fun, that it eases anxiety, or that it’s just part of life. It is not. It only clouded the long nights of fun, caused internal chaos, caused terrible rebound anxiety, and made me miss hours I should have remembered or taken advantage of to get work done. Life is not about escape; life is about living and experiencing. I’m facing stress, discomfort, sadness, happiness, and victories with a clear mind and open heart. And it’s incredible. Happy 6 months to me.
