I haven’t had a full year without alcohol since I was 20. Now I’m 30, and I’ve spent many days and nights over the past decade reaching for another drink.
My dad used to give me sips of beer when I was a kid. Despite his claim that he was drinking it merely for the beer makers of the world, I couldn’t understand why anyone would consume something so bitter and repugnant.
Even with age, I never acquired a love for beer. Nor the respect necessary for the beer manufacturers to justify purchasing a product I wouldn’t enjoy.
Liquor on the other hand was worth every penny. Highballs made sense to me. Rum and coke didn’t taste all that different from coke, but the difference was extraordinary. Squeeze a little lime in there and it’s exquisite. Drink it, and another, and another, and the rum runs through like a powerful luck potion.
I’ve always wondered whether J. K. Rowling used alcohol as inspiration for her liquid luck, Felix Felicis, because the description in the sixth Harry Potter book perfectly matches my experience.
“Use it on an ordinary day only,” says Professor Horace Slughorn, “and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!”
When I drink, I want the full effect, which means I have a hard time drinking just a few. Cocktails are my favorite: martinis, margaritas, mojitos…. Though I have gained a reputation tied to Twisted Tea, one of my early favorites was Redd’s Wicked Black Cherry. Casual drinking—one or two drinks—never made sense. If I’m going to drink, I want to go the distance. In order for drinking to be worth it, to feel the full effect, I have to drink a lot. Otherwise, why drink at all? Or so I tell myself.
“First the man takes a drink,” states an old Irish saying often attributed to F. Scott Fizgerald, “then the drink takes a man.” It’s not that I drink one drink and can’t resist another; it’s that before I start drinking, I’ve already planned on having more than one. Exactly how many, I haven’t planned.
It takes a lot for me to get drunk, but it doesn’t take nearly as much to get me tipsy, which might be enough in the first place. Why push myself so far?
Tipsy is good, but it’s the beginning of being drunk, and drunk is better. Not falling-over belligerent foolishness, but stumbling, bumbling joviality. All feels right, a mirth fills me, and I smile even more than I normally do. I chase that feeling, wanting nothing more than to amplify it. And so the drink takes me.
The next day comes and the feeling of last night is gone. Regret. I pay for the happiness. I know I would not have had the night I had without the alcohol, yet I wonder if it was worth it. A superficial feeling traded for a day of fatigue and recovery that’s getting worse with age.
I don’t have a problem with alcohol, but alcohol is a problem. It’s terribly unhealthy, and I like it a little too much. At times, I’m wary of it, even dread all that will come afterwards before I take my first sip, setting myself up with proper hydration and a well-lined stomach, then the bloating and overeating and water, water, water. Alcohol has become a hassle of planning, strategy, and pacing. Still the draw is powerful, but not all-consuming. A cultural cornerstone, alcohol is part of my identity.
My relationship with alcohol is at a place where I need to assess the value it has in my life. Of course I don’t need it. My attraction was never about necessity, but the promise of a good time, an exhilarating ascent, my very own Felix Felices. While I love it, what is it actually offering me?
There is no definitive reason to stop drinking, i.e. I don’t have a terminal condition, yet there are plenty of good reasons to stop, namely all of the terminal conditions alcohol could cause. I have also reached a symbolic age, in which there somehow seems less life ahead me than behind, and I would like to do what I can to increase my longevity. Furthermore, I now have a son, and I would like to see him grow into a man. The same goes for other kids I might have (and grandkids, too). And I want to experience more life with my wife for decades to come.
There is more than enough justification to stop drinking altogether—and sufficient reason to justify taking a break. One year. Some have asked, Why not one month? Because a month wouldn’t challenge me in the way I need. While I have distance from AA’s “one day at a time,” I want to challenge myself sufficiently with where I’m at with the drug. We all have our own relationships with alcohol.
Whether this is a permanent resolution, time will tell, but as for my goals for this year and the foreseeable future, alcohol is a hindrance. My intention is to experience a full cycle without drinking: my anniversary, my birthday, family gatherings, holidays, hanging out with friends, all of it—I want to be free from the influence of alcohol.
Instead of being in my own inebriated world, I want to see what I’ll do. I want to see how badly I want to drink when I usually allow myself the freedom to consume. I want to see when I miss it most. Where and when is the pull the greatest? In the past, I found myself turning to alcohol as something to do in periods of downtime. What will I do instead?
I want to be a productive writer. It’s kind of hard to wake up early and write when you stay up late drinking, when you don’t feel 100%. The stereotype of writers as alcoholics seems contrary to what it should be, considering how unproductive it makes me. It would make more sense for writers to be coffee addicts, or a stronger stimulant linked to some of Stephen King’s early work.
There is no better feeling than productivity, purposeful actions leading to meaningful goals. My novel remains unpublished, as well as several short stories. My reading life has times of neglect. My knowledge and skill as a professor needs constant improvement. I’m a family man now.
My life is full. Responsibilities abound. I have to decide what I value most. Everything takes time. Everything has a cost. How I consume alcohol does not seem compatible with the life I want to lead. I either have to get rid of it entirely or find a healthy way to fit it into my lifestyle.
Dry ‘25 feels like a good place to start.
