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Four years since my last drink, where's my fucking badge?
It was enough for me to decide to lay off booze for a bit, with no real intention of stopping forever (something that's still basically true). Less than a month later I discovered that there was something wrong with my testicle and so all I can presume is that not drinking alcohol gives you cancer. You can't argue with facts.
I didn't drink for 13 months from 2019 to 2020, doing the double Dry January (now done six in a row, heading for number 7) starting up again in February 2020, just in time to get through lockdown. So I haven't drunk alcohol for 61 of the last 72 months which constitutes most of my fifties. I might well have had another period of abstinence between July 2017 and January 2019, but I am not trawling back through the blog to give you the full statistic that you undoubtedly have no interest in (I barely do myself).
I'd just say I think it's a good idea to stop drinking once you hit 50. But then I did a lifetime's worth of drinking between 14 and 40 (and a fair deal between 40 and 52). As I've said before (but will repeat for Substack newbies) the reason I stopped wasn't because I was drinking huge amounts any more, but because if I drank anything I'd often wake up at 2 or 3am full of dread and confusion, feeling a bit like I imagine you feel when you no longer remember who you are and are searching for meaning. The world seemed dark and terrifying and I feared that this was the only time I really understood the ultimate futility of life. Even though the panic attack would fade after a couple of hours and I knew that was what had happened before, each time I faced this nameless fear anew it would feel like it would never go away. I was haunted by past mistakes, real and imagined. It was quite unpleasant and I am not sure the buzz I got from a large whisky before bed (something I still nonetheless occasionally miss) was worth entering this world of existential angst.
So when that pretty much stopped when I stopped drinking (I occasionally get a very minor version of it if I eat too much late at night, but it's nothing like as severe) that has turned out to be a pretty good incentive to not go back. I like to live with the delusion that being alive is positive and fun, rather than a Hell made out of meaningless and inevitable decline.
I haven't noticed many more huge benefits. It's a bit easier to exercise and think without a hangover, but the exhaustion of being a dad in his fifties usually counteracts that. I didn't lose much weight directly (again I wasn't drinking huge amounts of beer before I quit, just spirits and wine so it wasn't hugely calorific). The main downside is that if you go out to a social event, after about 10.30pm everyone else is spouting repetitive nonsense and it's a bit boring. And you're also conscious that in social situations you are a bit boring. Again I am in my fifties - that was coming anyway. As a younger man, often lonely and socially awkward, drinking lots was my way to overcome that and make friends and talk to women. I think the alcohol probably meant I sometimes made the wrong friends and talked to the wrong women. But at least it meant I wasn't alone.
Interestingly I was sober for the first 100 days of my relationship with Catie (though luckily for me she wasn't or she'd have realised what an error she was making). But at least that was the real me that she was erroneously falling in love with. We'll have been together 17 years this January. Also 17 years since I started podcasting. That was a pretty life changing month.
I do slightly miss drinking, just as I miss many of the pleasures that age and maturity has denied me. I did used to need booze to be sociable and I still struggle with that. I feel like a party pooper at times, though that's essentially my personality and as ridiculous and idiotic as drunk people are when you are sober, I slightly envy them that. So I am not one of those people who wants everyone to follow me into temporary or permanent sobriety. I am happier in most ways and only slightly sadder in the other ways. But the "achievement" is definitely tinged with disappointment. Every cloud has a silver lining, but is also full of cold water that's going to fall on you. And is all that I am allowed to drink. Even though it's cloud wee.
I am astonished that I've not drunk in four years. But also a part of me is surprised it's only four years. I've been saying I haven't drunk for four years for a few months now and it feels like it should be five or ten by now. As the old saying goes, stopping drinking doesn't make you live longer. It just feels like it.
I think I've got to get to five at least. And after that what's the point of going back. Even newcomers know me by now though. If I just had a glass of champagne to celebrate new year then all bets would be off. I don't do moderation. And it's not like I dig my heels in and refuse to let something go. That's the lesson of my 8058th consecutive blog.
I don't think I was/am an alcoholic and so don't deserve any credit or praise for this abstinence. Like most things in my life it's been quite good.
Title of my autobiography.
