1,000 Days

Today marks 1,000 days since I stopped drinking alcohol. While it isn’t always easy, this is without a doubt one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I don’t talk about it often. Some people don’t know I’ve stopped or how hard it can be to see others drinking around me, even after all this time. And you know what? That’s okay. My life is about more than just not drinking now, but I’m appreciating the extra digit on my day count all the same.

I don’t want to take a trip down memory lane, but remembering how things really were is one of the keys to maintaining my abstinence. I’d like to romanticize my drinking, thinking of all the good times I had sipping rum and cokes with friends or the late nights I stayed up writing with a drink by my side. Fun times at concerts or casinos, rum or whisky in hand, the night becoming a pleasant blur punctuated by stops at the bar. I remember past me relaxing at friends’ houses while the drinks kept flowing, and it almost makes me miss the booze.

The truth is much darker. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. Some people can have a drink or two and call it a night. That’s not how I drank. Maybe I had a few good nights if you were looking from the outside. No one saw the thirsty beast I struggled to subdue on the inside. Those were the nights I went to bed sweating, hoping I could fall asleep without another shot, trying not to wake anyone up.

The truth is so much scarier than the fantasy. It’s all the things I said that I can never take back. Late nights spent over the porcelain princess because I couldn’t stop. Waking up foggy and bloated and sick to my stomach, feeling my bones and skull aching from the hangover. Making deals with myself on how much and how often I could drink only to break my own promises, over and over again. Feeling like my brain would explode if I couldn’t have another. THAT is what life really looked like when I drank.

I never went to AA meetings. I found support in online strangers (thank you r/stopdrinking!). I read Annie Grace’s This Naked Mind to help change the way I think about booze. I try to practice healthy habits to support my sobriety. Some days are better than others. I’ve gone through phases where the only thing I can stick with for more than a day is my commitment to not drinking. It may not be the traditional approach, but I’m thankful it’s gotten me to quadruple digits.

I’ve heard there’s an AA concept about accepting your powerlessness over alcohol, and while I can agree with the idea, I like to think of it a little differently. I’m only powerless when I’m drinking. The moment I take that first drink, I’m under its spell. I don’t stop until I pass out, black out, or puke. My choice to abstain is where I’ve found my power, and I’m never letting that go.

I’m far from perfect. The cravings happen, thankfully less often than the early days. Some places like casinos are still hard for me. Surrounded by cigarette smoke (another vice I’ve struggled with in the past) and waitresses carrying full drink trays in the cramped spaces between machines, it’s hard not to feel like I’m missing out. This is when remembering the truth helps the most, the moments when I can almost forget what booze really does to me.

I’m celebrating my success with a morning of kickboxing, an afternoon movie (Captain Marvel!), a jewelry box from my new favorite artist, and pausing to remember how proud I am of myself. This isn’t an easy road to walk. I’m proud I’ve chosen to walk it anyway.