There have been so many great benefits that have come from going alcohol free. The list is long so here are a few; I wake up stoked! I’ve lost weight. I sleep way better. I feel way better. I do way more. I look younger. My body doesn’t ache. I save money. I eat better. I’m hydrated. I don’t feel guilty and shame from drinking. I am more social. I am more present. I have less stress or I handle stress better. I am calm, less irritable. I am more active. I read more. I write more. I have real emotions. I don’t waste days. I enjoy mornings. Also evenings. I am a better me. And most importantly, instead of hating me, I’m starting to really like me. I’m even proud of me.   Its kind of fun being different…

 

That said there are also some difficult times. I find it so strange how many friends that truly mean well hint that I should re consider my AF lifestyle. Telling me that I should just have some beers and mellow out. AS if I’m not mellow. Dude, I’m more chill then ever. Never the less, I get that often. Or my neighbor whom always offers me a glass of wine. Hoping I will say yes, then when I say no, she smiles and says I was joking.

 

I’d laugh if it wasn’t so annoying to hear. First off, would we say that about smoking or drugs? Hey bro, why don’t you mellow out and have a cig or shoot some smack. Or lighten up and smoke some weed, I’ve heard that plenty. They may argue that alcohol is so much less harmful then drugs, certainly more acceptable. But what they don’t know is how harmful it was becoming for me. So just a little night out or a few beers might cause severe depression, shame and guilt. Something I just don’t need right now, or ever…

 

Further, in society, we are constantly bombarded with commercials, marketing, advertisements that associate booze with happiness. Pretty girls, parties, good times. Which I would question. I’d say for a few it might equate to that. But for many this leads to unhealthy lifestyle, bad decisions, and dependency. I’ve seen and made my share of poor choices with alcohol, but I don’t see that in marketing campaigns. Beer goggles, trouble with the law, saying the wrong things, fuck they could do a whole campaign on bad alcohol related behavior at Holiday Parties alone.

 

Then comes the judgment. I told a recent friend, whom I haven’t known for all that long, that I don’t drink anymore. Her face changed, she got serious and said something like oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you had a problem. Are you an alcoholic? She didn’t mean any harm from this.  But I found the reaction telling. First, don’t be sorry.  I’m stoked not being fat, tired and hungover anymore.  I smiled; yeah it was kicking my ass so I stopped fighting it.   More recently I mentioned a night out I had and first thing she said was I thought you weren’t drinking… I’m not, but I still go out at night…I said with a cheeky smile and shake of the head.

 

Or when merely telling someone that you stopped drinking and it’s been really helpful for you. They quickly get irritated thinking you are trying to preach to them about their issues. I see that often. The topic comes up, typically when ordering drinks with friends at a social gathering. I try not to bring attention and ask for a soda water and lime. Then someone asks about the not drinking thing. I mention something about how it’s been nice and soon come the weird vibes… Like I won’t be fun to hang with. Or stay away from that guy, he has a problem with alcohol… Or I’m projecting. By not drinking?  Feels like I’m being judged for trying to take on a unhealthy habit of mine. Its crazy. Look, I’m just trying to be kind to myself. Its not easy being around a ton alcohol, in an alcohol crazed society. With most of my friends drinking. Yet I am the one feeling vibed???  Strange.

 

Sometimes I’ll get, the good for you bro. Followed by the, I took a month off once and it was great. As if we are on the same program. Or proving to me that the month off shows they don’t have an issue with drinking. When really I don’t care. I’m just trying to work on me. And enjoy this tasty soda water with lime.

 

I also like the I only drink on weekends. Or I hardly drink anymore either comments. Again, no worries from me. I’m just chilling out, can I get another Near beer please…

 

In addition, when others see me drinking a NA beer, I get judged as someone with a problem. Why would anyone ever drink a beer without alcohol is the common joke? I smile, and try to manage my own night.

 

The humor, or more so sadness, is when the night progresses. Their fun often turns and looks like hurt or false emotions. Maybe I’m judging that. But I keep it to myself. Usually leaving before it gets rowdy.   Happily driving home sober and offering others a ride.

 

Then comes some good judgment. Lately, I’ve had a fair amount of friends come back to me, via a text or talk at a work event. Asking honestly about my alcohol free lifestyle. Some that have started it themselves. Even telling me that I inspired them. Or others asking for advice, which I gladly share. That judgment of asking for help or coming to me, I take on happily.

 

I just find it interesting. Lots of judgments out there just by the simple fact of me ordering a drink (that’s non alcoholic). Fair warning to others going into the AF lifestyle. My advice is to own it. Take it on. Feel and be stoked that you are different. Be kind and understanding.  Also be strong and focused. I don’t want anyone to slip up in a moment when a friend pressures you to have a shot or beer.   43 and I still get a pure pressure. Isn’t that funny. No means no bro!

 

Anyways, my little observation this week. Sober and stoked!

Anxiety is a bitch. If you have never dealt with anxiety, like real gnarly paralyzing anxiety, then consider yourself very lucky. If you have, then I think you will agree that anxiety is really fucking weird. However, I do think it has its purpose.

 

As a kid I remember having a few strange episodes. I still wonder if it was anxiety or just common kid nerves and stuff. I remember having severe stage fright as I was dressed as a cowboy at my kindergarten show (I mean who wouldn’t wearing this type of outfit). At least I think I remember it. I have a photo of a crying me and it sends a symbol of anxiety that I likely felt.

 

Later I remember getting real heavy anxiety when my parents left for a night out. My babysitter had to call for help, as I was really spooked that something was going to happen to them. I would cry and freak out. And too old for this behavior at 11 or 12. My mom has mentioned that it was intuition to their looming divorce. Maybe. But it was also panic and caused me a lot of stress (especially for my babysitter).

 

Then it was gone. Like literally gone for 20 plus years. I was super social. I played sports at high levels. With a profession that often put me in front of people presenting, or speaking. A little nervy at times but nothing that I would consider anxiety.

 

Then at some point in my mid 30s it reappeared. After a night of drinking, I would wake up with a hangover, which I was used to battling and getting through. However now something different was happening. I’d start getting anxious upon waking up. Feeling terrible while my mind started to spin out.

 

This would happen more and more as I continued my normal drinking pattern. Even showing up on days when I hadn’t drunk the night before. It was strange. I didn’t really understand it. Just tried to block it out.

 

But the more I tried to block it out, the bigger it got. The feeling was a mixture of dread and panic. Somewhere in the middle. Dreading the anxious feeling that I was going to feel, or was feeling. Then worrying if I was going to go deeper with panic. Bouncing around in the middle was the worst. Just constantly in my mind. Tripping.

 

In fact, it was sorta of like I was having a bad trip or peaking on shrooms or LSD.  Hoping at some point I was going to come down. But the trip was for days, months and longer. This low-level stress, anxiety trip just sitting on my shoulder telling me what if you freak out…

 

It just got worse and worse. Sadly debilitating my mind, my life. Things like flying became sketchy and scary. Or a small presentation had my heart racing for hours before hand. Driving over a bridge had my hands gripped to the steering wheel. It didn’t make sense, which added to the stress of it all. Why is this happening?

 

Further, the anxiety kept building in my mind. The anxiety created anxiety. I’d get anxiety about wondering if I would get anxiety if that makes sense. It was so strange. I’d think about the most fucked up possibilities and then wonder if that would happen to me. A simple event like a friends wedding would bring on worry that I would panic during the ceremony and cause a disruption. Maybe have trouble breathing, get short of breath and pass out. Or worse I would be trapped sitting in a row between people and wouldn’t be able to leave. I’d have to talk myself down of simply attending a nice pleasant event. Something I should be relaxed for and enjoy, turned into days of anxious stress.

 

Once, a strong, confident person.  Now inside I was a mess of emotional anxiety. It was eating away at me.

 

Drinking was the only thing that really helped calm that anxiety. It was pretty much immediate. Drink in hand and my anxiety would mellow. Until of course the next day. Where it would return almost bigger.

 

Throw some coffee in the morning and smokes at night with the drinking and my anxiety trip was fueled.

 

As it all worsened, my life began to fall apart as well. I was in constant struggle with my mind. Pushing the anxiety aside. At least trying to. While drinking, while getting depressed that I had this scary anxiety.

 

I’ve mentioned in my previous blogs, my wife left me. It must have been so hard for her to deal with a partner that wasn’t present. That was living in a strange anxious world of stress and depression. I’m sad that she had to deal with that. I’m sad I had to as well.

 

Then I finally quit drinking. And slowly the anxiety started to subside. It became more calm. Not the heighten daily stress. Rather occasionally coming out to test me. Except now I was more equipped to deal. Maybe I needed to meditate that day. Or lean into the anxiety. What was it saying? Why am I anxious? Then I would embrace, breath and try to move past it.

 

Now I’m quit certain that the anxiety is our body’s way of telling us, warning us of looming issues. It’s a bit intuitive maybe. But for me, anxiety was saying, bro if you don’t stop drinking your going to die. Its time for you to check yourself. If not, I’m going to give you hell until you do.

 

And it was hell, and it was right. Anxiety has its purpose. Its there for a reason. Maybe we should try and understand it rather than to numb it with alcohol or Xanax. Though I don’t want to judge those that need some help. It’s a horrible feeling at times. I’ve avoided pills, but I did just take a few supplements to help better realign my body and that seemed to take me down a level when anxious. And maybe I should chill on the coffee intake…:)

 

 

And look, I’m a year past being alcohol free, and I still get anxiety. It sucks, but maybe its back for another lesson. Nudging me in another direction. Career? Relationships? Life challenges? I’m not quite sure, but hoping to learn soon.

 

I have deep compassion for those that suffer from anxiety. It’s brutal. I read that over 500 million people deal with severe anxiety. We live in an anxious world. But maybe we can learn from it.

 

I for one am grateful for anxiety, for helping me move on from drinking. Thank you anxiety, I appreciate your help but what are you trying to tell me now?

As I battled drinking off and on for years. It was hard for me to distinguish if I actually had a problem. Maybe I was just normal and being a wuss? Looking around many of my friends were partying hard. I’d see them at the bar, or at a dinner party drinking heavily. On the golf course pounding beers, or at a work event.  Was it just me? Did I even have a problem?

 

This is something I challenged for years. After a gnarly hangover i would think, should I quit? Or just toughen up. This inner conflict was brutal. In fact the conflict in itself was becoming an issue as it repeated in my head.

 

In addition I’d have close friends, family and even my wife at the time tell me that I was making too big a deal about my drinking. After all, I didn’t drink every day. Or in the morning. I wasn’t a violent drunk. I was actually pretty funny and entertaining. I was not the alcoholic we see in movies that hid drinking, went crazy and lost everything.

 

However, and this is big, I was going crazy in my mind.  I was constantly thinking about when I could or could not drink. It was absorbing my life. I’d get so stoked when I was going to drink next. I’d think about it all day. Maybe even for days at a time. That’s probably not a good sign. Drinking was a huge part of my thoughts. And as soon as I started drinking, I new I was going to send it. I was going to light it up. I was going to drink, then smoke a couple cigs. And then, I would wake up hating myself for it…

 

Was everyone else going through this? I was confused. I knew others that drank more. They looked more wrecked, out of shape and weathered from it. Did they suffer from this self-hate too?

 

I compared myself a lot. After giving it thought, it often seemed that maybe I was just being weak. That I needed to toughen up and deal with my drinking. Others could. What was my problem?

 

So I continued. Drinking, not drinking, drinking. Hangovers, days off, and then more hangovers. The cycle was exhausting. But I was “dealing” with it. I didn’t have a problem because I seemed normal compared to many others.

 

But why did I hate myself so much for it? How come I felt so depressed? Until I could drink again then repeating the self hate. Man I was really going circles with my theory about my drinking.

 

Never mind the 20 years of binge drinking that started in high school. Or the periods through college and ski towns where I consumed a ton of drugs. Seemed like a lot of my friends had similar experiences. I was the standard. And those black out nights, or stretches when I drank for a week straight on spring break, or the consequences of getting a DUI or the many, many random hook ups. Those were all part of my 20s culture. I made it through those days. I was now married. And more mellow. Mature. I drank wine now. I was sophisticated.

 

Did I really have a problem? Sure I was over weight. Yes I looked aged. My skin was out of whack. But that’s probably just normal aging right?

 

But what about the depression. Is that normal? And then came the anxiety. Holy shit, where did the anxiety come from? I have been social my whole life, now I was all freaked out about being around others. I really needed to drink then. And then came work anxiety, I had a hard time giving the smallest of presentations. After doing them for years. WTF.   Even worse came some phobias. A plane ride became stressful. An elevator caused minor panic. My body was all jacked up.

 

So guess what helped ease all that. Take away the depression. The anxiety. The stress of weird phobias. Yep. Drinking. You give me that or let me know that I can have some drinks in the near future, (like that afternoon) and everything became ok. I would calm down.

 

Only until that first drink. Then it would repeat. Getting worse each morning after.

 

But this wasn’t about drinking right. This must be something else. Maybe I need some Xanax to calm those weird nerves. Maybe mellow on caffeine. Yep, I tried them all. Except for the not drinking thing. Anything but that because, it wasn’t like I had problem. Everyone drank that much around me. If not more.

 

It wasn’t till life started to really fall a part that I took the heavy and hard look at my drinking problem. At least at a more serious level. Like I mentioned I had wondered for some time. However now shit was getting real. My wife was leaving me. Part because of my depression, my anxiety, my negativity, my selfishness. But even in her words I wasn’t an alcoholic.

 

And maybe I’m not. Maybe I just have a fucking drinking problem. I don’t care what you call it. But alcohol, beer and wine were causing me so much hell. Self hate. Confusion. Depression. Low self esteem. Low self-confidence. And now wrecking my life. I was in a very dark place. As dark as they get in some ways. Especially in my mind, I had gnarly bad thoughts of the worse kind.

 

I performed poorly at my job. I performed poorly as a husband. I performed poorly socially. I was all messed up.

 

Too this day, I have friends even some family that question this. Did I even have a problem? Often telling me to mellow out and have a drink. Sorry. Wish I could. But I can’t just have one potato chip. I’ll eat the whole bag. So it’s best I don’t have any.

 

Did I even have a problem? Yeah man. I did. I still do. Except I don’t, because I don’t drink any more and as long as I do that. I eliminated that problem.

 

And you know what. Weird. The depression. The anxiety. The phobias. The self hate. All that seems to be going away. Funny how that works. Maybe a connection (sarcasm).

 

I wish I new about this problem sooner. I wish I didn’t try to fight it for so long. In a culture that revolves around drinking.  Associating alcohol as mandatory with having fun.   It was hard for me to see the light. I see it now though. Bright as ever.

 

To others who question if they have a drinking problem. I bet you know the answer. I did. It just took me a while to figure it out.

A buddy once told me to embrace the hangover.  He was famous action sport athlete with a ton of attitude. He said it in a dry, scratchy hungover sounding voice. At the time, I laughed and tried anything but embracing the hangover. Rather i tried to block it out. Distract myself from it.  Instead I’d load up on coffee, aspirin and greasy food.

 

However I think he was onto something. Maybe not what he intended but i agree, embrace the hangover.  Even now,  I make sure I completely and totally embrace the hangovers I once had. I often find myself writing in my journal about how terrible they were. Even after not having one for ages (because I’m rad and sober now).

 

So here is a look at what my hangovers often felt like…

 

First the sleep. The sleep was fake. It wasn’t sleep. It was a pretend sleep. It was a sick sleep. It was trashy. Not real. I drank till I couldn’t stay up, then crashed into my bed in an anything but restful experience. I took a bed made for bliss, comfort and dreams, and turned it into a sweaty, stinky, rats nest of fake sleep. I tossed, I turned. I zombie slept, getting up to piss. Back down stressed. I didn’t dream. I snored. Instead of peace, I worried. Waking up feeling completely horrible. Terrible. Putting together the night before. What did I do? How much did I spend? Where is my phone? My car? Did I drive? Did I say something rude? How many fucking smokes did I have? Yuck.

 

This is all pre hangover.

 

Next, I start to dread it. I need to get up. How the fuck am I going to get up? I need real sleep. I need to feel rested. I am not. My whole body aches. Something around my left kidney inside feels weird. My throat, I can hardly swallow. Its so dry and scratchy. My eyes burn, everything is so blurry. The light, its way too fucking bright. I can’t focus on anything. Hurts to try and look at anything. My skin, its so pale. Its so dry. I’m so thirsty. I’m so dehydrated. My stomach feels terrible. I feel like I got beat up.

 

Then my head. Ohh my fucking head aches so bad. There is a pulse inside my head that woke me up like someone is in the room pounding a drum. WTF. They say the pulsing is because your brain is dehydrated and shrunken. Something like that and its not good to think about but I always do. Actually I can’t think. It hurts my head too much to try and think. Its like my brain doesn’t work. Its slow. Its like an engine running without oil. Its thick and foggy. If I sit up, when I sit up, its going to hurt even more as the blood rushes out. Leaving me horribly light headed. Ugh. Move slow. Sit up slow. Stand up gently. Use your hands to help guide.

 

I make my way to the bathroom. I try and rinse my face, shock myself awake. I brush my teeth. My mouth is disgusting. Cotton mouth, no taste, just a bunch of wretched almost tastes of nasty smokes the night before. I smell.

 

The mirror. Oh no, not the fucking mirror. Don’t look. Just the bare minimum to make sure you don’t have toothpaste on your face. Or a random black eye, cut or injury from the night before. It’s a sluggish peak. Then you see it. Sort of. Your eyes, they are so swollen. So puffy. You look horribly aged. Pale. Wrinkled. Fat. No features of cheekbones, or chin. Just a round soft sad face.

 

Which brings on the worse. The shame. The guilt. Who are you anymore? A lost soul. Broken. Sad. Scared. Dejected.   Why do I do this to myself? Why do I continue to let myself down? I hate me. I hate me so much. I’m ruining my life. My wife, she is leaving me. I’m a loser. I’m a failure. I’m a drunk. Another pulse of headache interrupts. Reminding me more of my mistakes. I am so shameful.

 

Then anxiety. How the fuck am I going to work today? How am I going to manage the day? Hating me. Hating the way I feel. I have work to do. But I can’t think. The anxiety builds. I’ve got to stop this, but I can’t seem too. I’m scared. I hurt so bad. I can’t seem to get through this moment. Let alone a full day. Help. I need help!

 

Wait. Maybe a drink will help? Just to calm me down. And just get me through a bit. Or something to look forward to this afternoon. If I can make it through till the afternoon. Then I can have a couple drinks. To relax. That should work. I have a plan.

 

I dress. I go. I know I’m not right. I push it down. Block it out. This plan, it’s not right. But I have no choice. Its not like I can just stop drinking. That makes no sense. As my brain is still not working… The insanity cycle starts to click in. I am on auto pilot. A robot that is charged by booze. I move on.

 

Coffee. Bad food or no food. My diet is not important right now. I continue in zombie mode.

 

I hate myself. I’m scared. I seem to not be able to control my body, my mind.

 

Then deep down I hear it. It’s quiet, its inside. It’s my heart and soul. Inside sending me love. Asking me to reconsider. Telling me its not too late to change. You can love yourself. I hear it. I really do. But I already made a plan. Made my decision. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow. There is always tomorrow. I’ll try tomorrow.

 

And I continue. I embrace the hangover. I hate me for it.  Hoping one day to change that hate to love.   To love me instead of hate.  Luckily.  i have and it starts without the hangover.

From the outside I seemed like an accomplished, successful, happy person. A cool job, a home with a view, lots of friends, a beautiful wife. I was active, playing tennis, golfing, running marathons, finishing a 70mile ironman, even club champ at the local country Club. 40 years old and moving on just fine. Seemed idealistic really.

 

But inside, I was struggling. I was struggling with life. With myself. My mind and my self-control. I had shame and guilt. Then depression. Anxiety and even some weird phobias. This turned into conflict with my wife. Irritable behavior and a ton of stress. Then with my career, not achieving what I wanted. Not growing. Not evolving. I was fucking stuck. And it wasn’t getting better. Only worse.

 

Then life threw me some extra complexities that didn’t help.  We all have our challenges. Family issues, health concerns, financial worry all played a part. Its part of life. We tried to support each other, at times we did. But the added stress became extra trying.

 

Adding to it all, I was getting deeper in a struggle that had been gaining on me for a sometime. Drinking…

 

Our social, fun drinking days had turned on us, particularly on me. At 40, I started feeling really bad after a night of drinking. The hangovers were becoming unbearable. I didn’t drink every day. More like 3 maybe 4 times a week. But when I did, it led to more than what I consider appropriate. Followed by a few smokes on the deck. A secret vice my wife and i shared. I could feel the effects getting worse.

 

I began trying to stop drinking. Maybe a 10-day stretch or dry Jan. Or only drink on the weekends. But that just seemed to add to my stress. I started looking forward to the days I could drink and dread the days I couldn’t.   Then on the days I could, I was stoked to hammer a few beers, and some cigs. Only to wake up feeling terrible about myself.

 

Often sleeping in, but with horrible sleep. Then eating poorly. Then feeling a dull headache, an ugly guilt and subtle shame. This over and over, the insanity cycle as I call it. Each weekend. Or maybe an added day of the week (Sunday fun day, or a random Tuesday, it didn’t take much to get us to drink). Weeks past. Months past. Years past.

 

Once a professional athlete, I had gained some serious lbs.   I avoided mirrors; I didn’t like seeing a swollen face, puffy eyes and the sad look of disapproval from me.

 

I stopped evolving. Or maybe I stopped many years back. I was just there. Frozen. Life seemed to revolve around drinks. Our next social event. Then less about social and more about our next opportunity to just drink. Nice dinners turned more into sitting at bars ordering off bar menus and drinking. The craft beer scene hit hard and I went from drinking normal beers, to beers that had more then double the alcohol content, and huge calories. That shit snuck up on me fast. Now drinking 3 beers was like drinking 6 of what I was used too. Add some whiskey as a sidecar to that hoppy IPA. Yikes. I was getting pickled.

 

As I tried to back off or go through one of my dry weeks or months. I would get pressure from others to drink. Often from my wife, our relationship had evolved into drinking buddies. Even stranger, friends and family often thought I was making too big deal about it. I wasn’t in their words an alcoholic. I didn’t drink every day. I didn’t drink in the morning. I didn’t drive drunk. I wasn’t violent.

 

I just didn’t feel good about myself. I hated me.

 

Not feeling good about myself was the start. We used to call bad hangovers, the I HATE ME’s. Hate me for the amount I drank the night before.   For the cigs. For the dry mouth. For the dehydration, for the pulsing in my head. For the obnoxious behavior or for the lazy unhealthy person I was becoming. I hated me in the morning. Then hated me most of the day. Until, I had a drink. Then I started to like me, secretly hating me more for continuing the cycle. The cognitive dissonance was building in my mind.

 

Next up and not a shocker in these terms. But a shocker to others around us, my wife decided she was not happy in our marriage. I was selfish and going through hell in my mind. Becoming extremely negative.   All stemming from my self hate, reflecting out. On the flip side, she was drinking too much as well. So it was double trouble. Her having some of the same issues but in different ways. A perfect blend, life complexity, challenges, career frustrations, drinking too much, and then marriage difficulties. So after 10 years of marriage she left me. I was officially broken.

 

What was happening? Like I mentioned from the outside it all looked so good. Casual, easy and loving. Inside, I was screaming for help. The irony, I was the one who could actually help, I needed to help me.

 

I heard a quote as I started doing anything I could to correct my direction. Listening to podcasts, self help books and this resonated with me. “Your life is, of course how you spend your days…” I was spending my days waking up hating myself. Hung over. Then thinking about when I could or could not drink. Then drinking and getting drunk.   What a fucking shitty life I was building.

 

So after many, many attempts at quitting, throttling back, taking months off, weekends only, all that bullshit. I decided I had enough. Inspired by a few buddies that took a year off and huge life success, I decided I was going to take a year off of drinking myself. In attempt to save my marriage, save my career, save my life and correct my mind.

Additionally, I was seeing a therapist for depression and all the other things people see therapists for. And at one point, he matter a fact told me that it’s really not good to drink when you are depressed. Reminding me that alcohol is a depressant.

 

Everything seemed to be telling me this might be a good decision. It all made sense, I just couldn’t seem to actually do it.

 

Until the night before my 42^nd Bday. I had been preparing myself that I was going to stop. I had to stop. I needed to stop. I so desperately wanted to stop. I finished one of my favorite Dave’s beer, a raspy, hoppy, tangy Pale Ale. Leaving one in the fridge. Maybe to test me (or just in case I couldn’t).   That was it. I was going to take on 42 sober and like they say, one day at a time, I stopped drinking.

 

My goal was for a year. But that was way too big for me to think of at first. Instead of a year goal. My goal was for that day. That night. That weekend. That next social event. That evening by myself. Day by day.

 

And each day, started to add up. The classic example of small goals adding up to big accomplishments. A weekend, a week, a month. It was extremely difficult at times, but it was happening.

 

A few things I started doing to help. I discovered podcasts. Specifically podcasts pertaining to the sober culture. These were amazing! I wasn’t the only person dealing with this. So many options and I could listen any time I wanted. My favorites started with Recovery Elevator, Anna David’s Recovery Girl, Shair, and Sober Guy. I loved these. It seemed I had my headphones on all the time.   Plus it was nice to hear someone talk to me. Like a friend, with similar struggles.

 

Then journaling. I started journaling every morning. Reminding myself about why I quit drinking. What I hated from it, the hangovers, being fat, spending money, and depression. I wrote about daily insights from being sober. Like how nice mornings are, or feeling leaner from the lack of empty calories, a restful, peaceful sleep, and acknowledging genuine feelings.

 

Exercise. I always liked being active. But in part as a punishment for the hangovers. Now I was thoroughly enjoying my workouts. Running (with podcast playing) became fun. Weight workouts pushed my energy to endorphin filled, confidence-building moments where I actually started to look at myself in the mirror again. Hey I had some muscles under that soft fat…

 

Yoga, I know its so cliché but I started to love it. The smooth motions and body movements seemed to calm me. I did a hot hour flow class once a week. I wasn’t one of the guys that could pull the no shirt thing and I swear I sweated twice as much as any other person there, but I was doing it and felt pretty cool about that.

 

Reading. I read more then I did in high school and college combined. Going back and reading classics, or a thriller, combined with a ton of self-help everything. This was becoming my new drug. Self help. Finding solace in others having struggled with life issues and turned it around. Specifically with Alcohol and drugs, but deeper with depression and anxiety. I read This Naked Mind, early on. I really liked the concept. About the drinking culture and ways to look at it from another angle.

 

Meditation. I read the Power of Now. A great book about mindfulness and living in the right now. It was powerful. I also started with a 10-minute meditation app called Calm. It’s been awesome.

 

Non-Alcohol Beer. Yep, Near Beer. I dove into this forgotten segment of beer. Many nights having a NA beer (and a nasty cig), to get through the craving times. I know others frown on this but fuck it. I wasn’t drinking alcohol. That was my goal. Do what ever I had to do to start. I’ll admit it’s a not a great habit. But it helped. Instead of 3 to 6 beers a night. I had one NA beer. And woke up Hangover free, with my goal still in tack.

 

So, there you go… I’d like to dive in more on this blog. But this was my start to taking a year off drinking. The best decision I’ve ever made.

Hi! I’m josh.  Thought i share my thoughts about going alcohol free at age 43.

I had a good run with beer.  25 plus years.  However over a year ago  i decided to take a break from alcohol.  Inspired by friends that took a year off many years back and had huge life success.  Its been a year of learning and i’ll dive into my thoughts about it all in this blog.  One thing for sure, a good old NA beer got me through much of it.  So with that i proudly ask the bartender to Near Beer Me…

a blog about going alcohol free…