I never imagined myself totally giving up drinking. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but I enjoyed socialising and often ended up worse for wear after (over) indulging in cocktails, or mixing various spirits with my favourite soft drink, Pepsi Max. However, as I got older, the ensuing anxiety became more and more unbearable.
The dreaded ‘beer fear’ or ‘hangxiety’ would completely overshadow any enjoyment I had while under the influence of French martinis or sambuca shots.
I was worried I wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy a night out if I was sober, so I stuck to drinking and enduring countless days riddled with heart palpitations, panic, restlessness, irrational thoughts and all the other unpleasant symptoms anxiety brings.
By the time I was 32, I had enough. After much contemplation, I decided to quit drinking – permanently. I easily get swept up in the moment, so whenever I tried to set a “limit” of three or four drinks, I’d lose count in the excitement and end up tipsy or very drunk again.
It also didn’t seem to matter how little I drank – even one strawberry and lime cider at the pub with friends on a summer’s day had the same effect on my anxiety levels as a wild night out.
I had to take the plunge and eliminate alcohol entirely. And that’s exactly what I did – two years ago.
It was nerve-wracking making such a big decision, but it’s been one of the best things I’ve ever done for my mental health.
The thought of being on a night out sober, when all your friends are buzzing under the influence of alcohol, is a lot worse than the reality of it. I barely even notice it anymore.
I still enjoy socialising, I still dance, I still stay out just as late as my drunk friends, I can still talk the leg off a chair; I can – and do – do all the things I enjoyed when I used to drink – now though, there’s no debilitating anxiety the next day.
It’s been absolutely life-changing. A fun event with my nearest and dearest, without the stress and panic hangover? Bliss.
I do find my energy lags at times – a sugar-free Red Bull has been a necessary purchase in the early hours on some nights out – but my drunk friends’ zest and positivity is rather contagious.
Now, two years in, being sober isn’t really something I think about. My two-year soberversary snuck up on me and I almost missed it.
I don’t think any one aspect of a person’s lifestyle should be the thing that defines them – yes, I’m sober but, like everyone else, I’m also so much more than that.
I do, however, feel power in being sober. It’s reassuring knowing I can go to any event and have a good time without the threat of being an anxious basketcase the next day hanging over me.
The initial “you’re not drinking?!” has completely died down – I don’t make a thing of it and neither do the people I’m socialising with.
I’m not saying I’ll never drink again but I have no current desire to do so. My life is better for being sober because I don’t have alcohol-induced anxiety anymore.
But for the most part, everything else is the same – and I think that’s pretty darn magical.
This story originally appeared on Express.co.uk
