Two years ago, journalist Jess Flaherty decided to stop drinking alcohol for the betterment of her mental health and it’s proved to have a transformative effect on her life
I never thought I’d stop drinking. I wasn’t ever a big drinker, but I loved going out and often found myself worse for wear after knocking back cocktails and mixing various spirits with my beloved Pepsi Max. The older I got though, the more anxiety would plague me the next day.
The dreaded, so-called ‘beer fear’ or ‘hangxiety’ would completely dominate everything for a day or two, negating any of the fun or excitement I’d experienced while under the influence of French martinis or shots of sambuca. I didn’t think I’d be able to hack a night out sober though, so I put up with countless days clouded by heart palpitations, panic, restlessness, irrational thoughts and all the other fresh horrors anxiety drops on a person’s plate.
Eventually, after mulling it over for quite some time, I decided to ditch the drink – and for good. I get carried away with the occasion very easily, so whenever I’d decided to set a “limit” of, say, three or four drinks, I’d get caught up in the moment and soon stop counting, ending up tipsy or very drunk all over again.
It also didn’t seem to matter how little I drank – one strawberry and lime cider while at the pub with friends on a summer’s day still yielded the same effect on my anxiety levels as a night out on the town.
I had to bite the bullet and cut it all out. So 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.