New Year's 2025, 10 days away from 3 years sober !!!

It was 2022, my last New Year’s as a drinker. I had a COVID-restricted, small-numbered gathering at my house. My main mission of the night was to get drunk. After the holidays I needed to “blow off some steam”. Those days I thought of getting wasted as some twisted form of self-care. I went from wine to beer to wine to beer, drinking with an urgency I can't imagine the cause for.

With blurred vision, I scanned the room for the time. I was 6 drinks in and it was only 9:30… too drunk too soon with two and a half hours to go I wondered how I'd ever make it to 12:00

I lifted my glass but it did not reach my mouth. It instead fell to the floor. I wish I could say someone bumped into me, wish I could say it was the only glass I just somehow couldn't hold on to that night. But the truth is I was so drunk they just dropped and when my friends ran around cleaning up the glass I just stood and watched, unable to spring into action.

We all laughed, them because it was funny. Me because it was the only place to hide. I stayed safe under the impression it was all jokes.

Somehow, I continued to drink and stayed awake till Midnight. I kissed my husband Happy New Year and hugged everyone, trying not to fall over.

Drunk is an understatement. Why would anyone want to be that messed up? Dizzy and staggering I passed out on the living room couch minutes after midnight with not even a wall separating me from the party. I didn’t hear a thing.

I wonder why I thought being that drunk would be fun, Or was it fun I was looking for? Maybe it was escape. If I was looking for an escape, that is what I got. I was vacant. Absent. Gone

Upon waking the next morning I feel ok, but that quickly changes as I drink my morning tea and try to piece together the night before. I feel sick about not knowing every word I said last night. There are so many gaps in my memories allowing worry to set in.

I can't stay sitting, but I don't want to stand. I want to stay in but I feel the need to leave. I don’t feel comfortable in my body. My skin feels wrong. I’m anxious and unsettled.

I decide to go for a run. That always helps. I need fresh air and distraction. I need to sweat. No one with a real problem would run New Year's morning. That must mean I’m ok. I’m not an alcoholic cause look, I can run.

As I run, I think.

I think about the year ahead and how I want to change. I think about where I am in life and where I want to be

I cry.

I cry because I’m inspired, and I cry because I’m ashamed. I cry for who I am and who I want to be. I run, sweat, and cry, and when I get home, I feel invigorated, But it doesn’t last.

The restlessness is there waiting for me at home.

I pace.

I need to eat, but I can't stomach anything. I can’t go back to sleep, but staying awake is so uncomfortable. My heart races as I try to keep my thoughts positive with no luck.

My husband says, “Why don’t you go to the store and get some Clamato?“ A ceaser will help. More alcohol will fix it. The thought of going to the store sets danger alarms off in my head. I feel unsafe, and the idea of going out in public makes me feel shaky, But he’s right. The only way to make it through this day without a panic attack is to have a drink. So I pull myself together and white knuckle it to the store.

I get in and out as quickly as possible, not making eye contact with the man working. The whole time, I thought “I can never let myself feel like this again. I can never do this again. This person I am right now and this person I was last night. I don’t want to be her. I need change. I need change, and I need it now. Or maybe Tomorrow ……”

I get home and drink a ceaser as quickly as I can. It helps … ish. I mix beer with orange juice and drink that because one drink’s not enough, and plain beer tastes too much like the night before.

Before I know it, I’m feeling better, and I’m four drinks in. I’m now going to drink all day. I won’t even get drunk because I’m so pickled from the night before. I’m doing everything I said I wouldn’t do on my run. I’m doing everything I said I wouldn’t do on my way to the store. So many broken promises to myself, so fast.

But this time, as it turns out, it would be different. I did break my trust in myself that day, but at the same time, something started shifting inside me. I began to picture myself as a girl who wouldn’t.

I drank that day, the next, the next and even the next, but my mind started to change. I began to read books on quitting. I stopped making excuses. Instead of promising myself I’d cut down and become some sort of responsible drinker, I started to work on a promise I could keep. Quitting.

I started picturing myself as someone who didn’t drink one drop. Instead of seeing it as an admission of weakness, I started to think of it as a strength. I could see myself as this new person, and she was badass, Unapologetic, brave, determined and sober.

I went on for ten days after New Year’s Drinking my usual 3 or 4. With every drink, I asked myself what I was getting out of it other than the relief of not craving it. Why did numb feel more comfortable than clear? Was life really that harsh? Was I really that fragile? Or was this trap I got caught in just that clever?

And so, finally, the day came when I didn’t have a drink.

I went that day and then the next. One day at a time, with only a promise to myself, and only for that day, I crawled out of the life that no longer fit me. One measly day at a time, I reinvented myself, by myself, For myself.

Three years later, I celebrate New Year’s happy, proud and sober. I laugh just as hard. I cheer just as loud when the clock hits midnight. I kiss my husband Happy New Year knowing I'll wake up tomorrow feeling great.

(I wrote this after my first New Year's sober but every year I reread, revise and repost as a reminder of why I quit. It keeps me unashamed to share my story and I cross my fingers it helps someone else feel unashamed.)