This will be my third sober new year. People ask: is this forever? Will you ever drink again?
No, I won’t. I actually like not drinking. It’s cheaper. I can’t believe I paid so much to feel so shit. I feel completely fine. I enjoy social occasions. I can relax after work. I can talk to people I don’t know. I probably won’t tell them I love them and say we have to catch up more, but I can ask them about themselves and create a fairly warm bond. Then in a few years if we actually form a reciprocal bond, I will catch up more and tell them I love them because it’s genuine. I won’t drunk dial them at 1am.
Drunk people don’t listen. They make a bee line for you, but it’s not about you. It’s about them. Drunk people don’t ask questions. They talk. Usually about themselves. It’s repetitive. It’s loud. It’s uninvited and it’s boring. It’s often a lubricant for a trauma dump. Which is ironic. Because alcohol is usually part of what created the trauma in the first place.
I know. I used to be that person. It’s like my sober karma. I get constant reminders of why my resolve not to drink is a good one.
People don’t get better with alcohol. I certainly didn’t. Unfortunately the most dangerous effect of booze is it gives you that loose confidence that persuades you to inflict yourself loudly on strangers. You’re funnier, cooler, more interesting. In your head. To those of us who are sober, it’s uncomfortable, anxiety-creating and awkward. Drunk people don’t leave space for anyone else.
Now, when I am in the presence of drunk people I shudder. It’s really hard to deal with as a sober person. The IQ drops significantly, the conversation goes on a loop, and they like to touch you. Usually it’s as harmless as a hug. Sometimes a kiss. Sometimes they grab your head and force weirdly confrontational and intimate eye contact. Sometimes it’s a grope. Or a slap. A push. A punch. Most violence involves alcohol, most assaults, most road deaths. My own father died drunk at the wheel, killing a friend’s grandfather in the head on collision. Yet we’re pretty fine with it. Why is that?
More and more kids are born with FASD. That’s fetal alcohol pectrum disorder. There are a variety of symptoms, from intellectual impairment to behavioural aberrations, including ADHD. It’s from alcohol. And it’s not just the mother, the damaged genes can be transferred through the father’s sperm. About 2% of all babies have FASD. It’s totally preventable. Yet we’re ok with that.
People ask if I miss alcohol. And the truth is no. In fact it’s the opposite. The only regret I have is that I drank for too long. I wish I’d stopped earlier. I wish I’d left the party. I wish I hadn’t used alcohol as a crutch. Facing my own traumas, the hard stuff was so much easier than I thought. In fact, it was easier than drinking.
I don’t wake up regretting what I said to someone. I don’t check my phone to see who I called at midnight. I don’t give my money to an industry that causes so much pain and damage. I don’t waste hours telling myself and other people that I’m a manageable drinker. I don’t have to worry about how I’ll get home, or how I’ll pick up the car the next day. I can drive.
So this New Year’s Eve I’ll probably be in bed by 10. But I’ll be awake at 5am. Bright, happy, well rested. Full of hope. Being sober gave me back my mornings.
And they are magic.
Ironically I now have, sober, what I chased when I drank.
Self love. And it’s free!
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
