Tag: anxiety

My Single Greatest Benefit of Giving up Alcohol

I had given up on this blog for a while. It seemed fruitless: no longer as therapeutic as it was in the beginning (since I am doing so well), and reaching only a small audience. But recently a friend and mentor encouraged me to continue, saying there are people, particularly women, who need this perspective. Women who may have had similar experiences to mine, whether with anxiety, divorce, alcohol abuse… or all three. So, with this in mind I have decided to continue with the blog.

I have now been living without alcohol for 258 days, or 8.5 months. I’ve been asked to name the single most positive outcome of this lifestyle change. There are so many, it’s hard to choose but I think the greatest benefit has been the mental freedom. Thoughts of alcohol consumed me for so long. By that, I don’t mean simply anticipating my next drink. Oh, no. There is so much more to it, and I’ve learned through social media groups that this is very common with people who drink too much.

Here are examples of how alcohol monopolized my thoughts:

WHY did I drink so much last night?!
This thought process included recounting the number of drinks (oftentimes hard to do) and berating myself over the amount; looking back to see what/who I may have texted or posted on social media; realizing how much food on which I had binged; discovering any mishaps that may have occurred while drinking (e.g. spilling red wine and not having cleaned it up well).

Comparing my drinking to others’
“So-and-so drinks every night. Probably about the same amount I do. And so does this person and that person. It has become the norm! I’m no different than anyone else.”

“But how come so-and-so can stop after only a couple of drinks and I can’t?”

Researching alcoholism and finding articles that support my habit
This thought process would include taking a quiz and realizing I fit the definition of an alcoholic.

“Oh, but wait! This article says drinking a bottle of wine per day is fine and actually *good* for you!”

I’m not going to drink tonight (or I’m only going to have X number of drinks tonight)
This thought process included constant self-reminders throughout the day, trying to keep up my resolve… or, as the day wore on, entertaining thoughts of why I should give in to the temptation. Inevitably, there would eventually be a “f— it” moment when I’d decide it was okay to drink (or drink more than planned).

Getting on the scale and seeing how much weight I’d gained, knowing damn well it was at least partly because of drinking
“Ugh, I’m disgusting! Oh well, might as well continue drinking… no one’s going to want me looking like this anyway.”

I could go on and on. The mental gymnastics are never-ending. But without alcohol in my life, I am calmer, have more clarity, more self-esteem, and gratitude. As a lifelong anxiety-sufferer with obsessive tendencies, I’m used to the mind games. But to have eliminated a major one feels incredibly freeing.

If any of this resonates with you, know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel! And keep reading… I will continue to share my experience in hopes of helping others.

To your health,

Kim

My Rocky Relationship with Alcohol, Part II

In my last post, I talked about what led to my downfall at the bottom of a bottle. After about twenty years of daily drinking – but not quite heavy drinking – I began a downward spiral when my marriage ended in 2014 and I became a single mom to two young kids. The grief and stress were overwhelming and I turned to wine to ease the pain.

In my last post, I talked about what led to my downfall at the bottom of a bottle. After about twenty years of daily drinking – but not quite heavy drinking – I began a downward spiral when my marriage ended in 2014 and I became a single mom to two young kids. The grief and stress were overwhelming and I turned to wine to ease the pain.

Two years later I was hit by another whammy when, without warning, I was laid off from my job of eleven years. Not surprisingly, this turn of events messed with my self-esteem even further and my drinking shot to a new level. Thankfully, though I was home during the day for eight months while job-searching, I did not get into the habit of daytime drinking (I can only wonder where that would have led me). But come late afternoon, the wine was out and I hit it hard.

Have you ever been in “F*** it” mode? If you have, you know what I’m talking about. “F*** it, I’m going to eat 2 helpings of dessert.” “F*** it, I’m not going to shower today.” ” F*** it, I’m going to order wine with lunch,” “F*** it, I’m going to finish off this bottle of wine I just opened a couple of hours ago.” There are many things that can drive you to F*** it mode, and losing your husband and your job successively are two of them. Of course, not everyone turns to alcohol, but that was my vice.

While all of this was happening, I was gaining weight. I’d always been slim thanks to good genes, eating well, and exercising. Sure, I put on a few pounds in my late 30s as well as after each pregnancy, but I was still at a normal weight for my height. When my shape started to get rounder and rounder, I thought I knew exactly why. It was an easy scapegoat.

When my marriage was crumbling, I started taking an anti-anxiety medication. I had suffered from severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder my entire life, but never effectively addressed it. Since my anxiety was a factor in the demise of my marriage and since the demise of my marriage made my anxiety worse, I decided it was time. I had always shunned the idea of medication, but I knew without it I quite literally might not be able to function.

It helped, immensely. Still does! But it had a known side effect of weight gain. And sure enough, about six months later I noticed my weight gradually increasing. In fact, I wrote about it in a well-received article for the Huffington Post a few years ago. Yet, strangely, at the time, I didn’t consider the other obvious reason for my growing size: The fact that I was consuming roughly 650 calories a day in alcohol (minimum), and while doing so, bingeing on food. It wasn’t unusual at all for me to polish off a bottle of red and raid my kids’ Halloween candy or make some late-night nachos on any given evening. Alcohol gave me the munchies, big time. And my body suffered for it. By now, I was used to being in denial so I blamed it on the meds. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t been drinking at the time. A nominal weight increase, perhaps? I could have lived with that. But 50+ pounds was another story.

I’m realizing this blog is just as much a form of therapy for myself as it is a tool to share with others the joys of life without alcohol. It turns out, my background story is long, so it looks like there will be a Part III to this post. Stay tuned…

To your health!

K.

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