We all have different metrics for recording the time frames for alcohol. Our first glass of cider as a teenager, wine at weddings, wine at funerals, wine to celebrate or commiserate, or wine just because it’s a Tuesday night.
Fourth of July 2024 marked the last day I had an alcoholic drink.
Hubby and I were returning from a city break in Gdansk, crammed into the budget airline seats the other passengers and I waited patiently for the rattle of the trolley as it trundled down the narrow aisle. I chose a mini bottle of Merlot. That was the only red vino on offer, it tasted cheap and nasty but I did drink it and in some ways I’m glad I did, remembering a pleasant tasting experience of alcohol could have made the transition harder.
It was a Thursday and I mulled over the thought that perhaps Friday I wouldn’t have a glass of wine. I was making a plan. Wine at dinner was a ritual, every night and that Friday evening, I said ‘no’ – the look of horror which spread over the husband’s face was impressive. I could have turned down the keys to a Lamborghini and got less of a response. I cited work the next day as my excuse.
The following Saturday night, the hubby was out with friends so I didn’t need to justify not having a glass in my hand – that magic kind of glass which keeps on refilling as it often happens. Sunday morning I felt pleased with myself, I didn’t have the proverbial thick head. I knew it was the acceptance that if I did have that glass of malbec then it wasn’t the end of the world, yes I would feel disappointed in myself but I could try again the next day, I would take it one day at a time.
I’m British so the Fourth of July doesn’t hold any patriotic significance like it will do for our friends across the pond. I hadn’t planned a date when I would quit alcohol I just had the right state of mind – which had been a long time in coming. I was fully aware that I had been using it as a crutch to give me sociable acceptability, the Dutch courage to engage with people instead of being the perennial wall flower. I had relied on it for over 30 years – more than half of my life.
I was using wine to self medicate, to forget, to wind down of an evening, and now I had to find new ways to do this. I had to have a strategy I needed to think back to a time when I sat and engaged with people whilst sipping on tea instead, a time when relaxing didn’t involve a pinot grigio. That was a long, long time ago. But that memory was still there, buried deep.
A memory of working on a project in the evening without a G&T, a time of being more productive in the sense of being creative, finding a new way to ‘wind down’. Once I recalled those memories I could bring them out of the cobwebs, dust them off and use that place of safety to change my thoughts, by creating new neural pathways which would then change my feelings and ultimately change my behaviour. In my brain I knew it was safe to negotiate these social situations sober.
On the fourth of July 2024 I raised my glass and bid farewell to a toxic relationship, I hadn’t chosen the date, it chose me, it was the beginning of a much kinder relationship with myself this was my Day of Independence. Today, The Fourth of July 2026, I will be 730 days sober.