Starting Over

A Pint of Coors Light and a White Wine Spritzer 

‘Ok, I’m doing it!’. I sidled up to the busy holiday park bar, as the New Year’s party was still warming up. After ten minutes of shall we, shan't we, I finally plucked up the courage to go. The people were lined up one behind the other, something I had always frowned upon before, but having been out of the game for two years I did my best to reserve judgement. Besides, that was the old me anyway, I was about to come back a brand new drinker; a moderator, non-judgemental and in control. One-by-one the people in front of me placed their orders and returned to their colourfully patterned, cushioned seats to take in the evening entertainment. Now, it was my turn! I managed to utter the words more confidently than I had feared after our 2 year hiatus; ‘a pint of Coors Light and a white wine spritzer, please’. My order felt about as natural as my first attempt to get served in the Nags Head back in 2001. Only this time the answer was different, ‘no problem’ the youthful barman enthusiastically replied as he reached for the Coors Light branded pint glass beneath the bar. I’d done it, I got served. Hardly a big moment for most 37 year olds, but this felt significant. Armed with alcoholic beverages, I returned to our seats. There weren’t any coasters to place the drinks on when I got back, so, avoiding the hardened blob of ketchup on the table, I put them down directly on the brown wooden surface. We looked at each other and chuckled like excited teens about to do something they knew they shouldn’t. ‘We’ll do it together’ we agreed, and with a ching and a ‘cheers’ we took our first sip.

Something Deeper

When it finally happened, we still weren't 100% convinced that a return to drinking was the way forward, but our time living AF had been humbling so maybe that had eventually taken its toll. After a while, everyone just accepted it and with that came a growing internal feeling that we were insignificant on the social scene. As we planned our return, we talked excitedly about how we could now have a drink at functions, and it felt like we were back in the ‘real world’, ‘normal again’! It wasn’t long though until the optimism of that first night back on the booze began to wane. As early as March, I began to realise that some of those demons that I’d spotted when I opened the attic of self-exploration had not actually been exorcised in the two years prior. I persisted with drinking for a while longer though, using mental strategies from living AF to overcome some of the less favourable effects of drinking. Regretting over sharing, hangxiety, tiredness, lack of productivity; I knew they all still existed when I drank, but this time I felt better prepared to use positive framing to deal with them. Then, game-changer, the first blackout, and with it, the realisation that there was so much work still to do.

It was only at that time, in late 2023, that I started to better understand what the gurus meant when they would talk about ‘the work’. This is the deep internal stuff that many people go their entire lives never confronting, or even considering, and maybe that’s a good way to live, if you can. For me though, it’s pretty clear that the’ ignorance is bliss’ ship has sailed and now it is my choice whether I perceive that as a curse, or a blessing. In many situations, I used alcohol like a coat of armour to protect my own self-perceived ‘weaknesses’ in my personality, and taking it away was both liberating and disarming in equal measure. Yes, there were many times when I drank for enjoyment, celebration or just social norms, but I started to realise that there was something about my drinking that smacked of a cover up. This really started to hit home when I began digging into my values, and how alcohol would often move me out of alignment with them. Then I started to delve deeper. I realised that drinking may have caused some problems, but it was not THE problem. Alcohol was often the crutch I used to shield myself from facing reality.

Starting Over

Come December, I had fresh clarity and was ready to go again. Recognising that choosing AF had elevated me to a better place emotionally for two years, I was excited to start again. The realisation that I had just been through a ‘planned relapse’ was hard to admit, and accepting that I had abandoned my changing identity just when I was beginning to reap the benefits of emotional growth dented my pride. I had failed! That’s how it felt now, all the justifications, the stuff about becoming a new kind of drinker. They were all just justifications, empty excuses to give up on something because it was hard to do, ignoring the fact that it was immensely fulfilling. 

I was ready to start again though, and keen to waste no time getting going. Maybe ‘changing sides again’ would throw a curveball to the people around me, but I had fresh impetus to get back on the bike and start enjoying life in high definition again (even if it does exemplify some harsh realities). The second time around was harder, but maybe the experience of going back to drinking was actually an essential part of the journey to reach the place that I am in today, and how far I might go beyond this. There have, and will be again, times when I just want to pull out the alcohol shield and protect myself from uncomfortable or difficult feelings like before, but I know now that every time I win a battle without that shield, I grow stronger. Tony Robbins says “if you’re not growing, you’re dying” and I believe him. Maybe not literally dying, but certainly emotionally, and that’s why choosing the bare reality of living AF makes me feel alive, even when it gets really tough. That’s why I started over, and that’s why I am still choosing AF.