I Quit Drinking

I have always considered myself an occasional social drinker, but when I really dissect my drinking habits I realize I am more of a binge drinking fraternity brother that never left the party. After nearly 18 years of drinking I have decided I want a taste of life that doesn’t revolve around blackouts, beer goggles, and hangovers. I am just under nine months dry and this is how I got here.

The Buildup

I had my first drunk escapade with my two best friends on my 16th birthday. We snuck into my dad’s liquor supply after he went to bed. I don’t even remember the feeling of being drunk for the first time, but I do remember how naughty it felt. I was such a good girl in and out of school. I never got in trouble. I baked after school and looked after my younger brother, I was involved in extracurricular activities, and if I was born with coordination I would have played sports too. I didn’t have time to get in trouble. ‘Naughty’ was not part of my vocabulary until that night, and I liked it. I started drinking more in my junior and senior years of high school. I had friends with older brothers that would buy us booze, and house parties whenever someone’s parents went out of town. Very normal, teenage shenanigans. I didn’t realize it at the time, but drinking gave me this sense of confidence that I never experienced prior to drinking. I felt sexy for the first time in my life. I felt like I could get anything I wanted as long as I was wearing my liquid cape. Being a shy, nerdy, balding girl suddenly felt like I character I no longer needed to portray. I was sexy, naughty, and confident. Drinking was my new hobby and alcohol was my best friend that would later stab me in the back.

Once I graduated high school and lived away from my family, my drinking increased, and I started to make poor decisions. I ruined my relationship with my high school sweetheart, I took a year off of school (something I never fathomed I would do), and I became a bit (a lot) promiscuous. I dated men that were no good for me, and pushed away the ones that really wanted to know me. I didn’t want anyone to know the shy, nerdy Jessica without the liquid cape. When I was ready for college I chose a school based on its party scene: Chico State. I spent two years here, made some great life friends, lost some weight, failed my first class, contracted my first and only STD (it’s gone now), got poison oak on my ass (I don’t have good balance either), dabbled in cocaine, and decided it was time to GTFO of Chico. I partied so hard I couldn’t handle the life I was living. I transferred to Sonoma State in my hometown, got back together with my high school sweetheart (before he dumped me for good shortly after), and graduated a semester early. Moving home was the best thing I did for myself, despite the massive heartbreak. I drank, but my focus was more on getting my degree to GTFO of Sonoma. I never wanted to drink the way I did in Chico, and I didn’t most days.

In 2009 I moved to Los Angeles with my boyfriend at the time. I met him at a bar, he was hot and super wasted, so I gave him my number. Not a surprise that he got a DUI a few months into our relationship (driving to see me, after I drove him home). I began to realize I was attracting what I was putting out into the universe (drunk trash). I thought LA would be a fresh start for us, and although I wasn’t in love with him, I wanted to be. We got along great when we were drunk and partying, which made sense, because that is how we met, until our drunk laughs turned into drunk screaming matches. I picked a fight over a sandwich, which was the breaking point for me. I had to let him go. I was single in LA starting my career in the entertainment business.

The Downfall

My twenties were very overwhelming. I was balancing a new city, a new career, new friends, and a new Alopecia journey. Alcohol was still my best friend. I couldn’t go on a date or out with people I didn’t know without drinking. I was and still am so shy around people that aren’t in my circle. Alcohol was my liquid cape that was morphing into a crutch, a mask even. I didn’t let anyone know the real me (I didn’t even know that bitch). I hid my insecurities, my heart was unavailable, and I didn’t acknowledge my own evolution as a woman. I was in the dark. Wearing wigs allowed me to hide my Alopecia, rather than accept it, because heaven forbid I own my authentic self when alcohol let me be naughty, sexy, confident Jessica. Avoiding myself made me rely heavily on drinking, and my drunk escapades became very dark. I was no longer naughty, I was a complete shit show. I can recall three instances that give me a sick physical reaction when I relive the choppy memories. Drunk driving, possible date rape drugs, and #MeToo were all involved. It wasn’t funny, it wasn’t just being drunk. It was dangerous, and sad, and looking back I can see so clearly how badly I was screaming for help through my actions, but didn’t know how to ask for it with my words. I remember my best friend coming into my room one day after working a weekend in Vegas (Rehab: Party at the HardRock Hotel reality show) to ask me if I needed to have an intervention around my drinking. I declined. I knew I was better than what I was, and I was going to get a grip on my life.

My drinking became manageable, and I focused more on my career and baking. I still partied on the weekends or occasional happy hours, but the blackouts and one night stands were far and few between in my late twenties, early thirties. I started therapy right before my 30th birthday. I went into it thinking I would address my hair loss since I assumed it was the root of everything wrong with me, but to my surprise therapy was more focused on my childhood, my connection to my spirituality, and what I wanted out of my life. I didn’t really talk about my Alopecia, because I learned I was avoiding parts of myself that I didn’t even know existed. I continued therapy for about 6 months. The work I did in therapy helped me get to know myself. I “came out” with my Alopecia at 31, in 2017 by shaving my head and doing a photoshoot. I changed my blog focus from baking to Alopecia lifestyle. I have met so many incredible women and men that have shared their hair loss stories with me that I would not have met drunk. Vulnerability is what opened this new chapter of accepting myself and I relied on my best friend Alcohol much less.

The Breaking Point

Hangovers hit different and longer in my thirties. I had to plan my weeks around drinking, because I knew I would be dead for two days after. I started to think about my life without alcohol. I wanted that life, but I was worried I would never date again, that I wouldn’t be funny and outgoing without a buzz. As much as I had accepted myself, I wasn’t confident in myself. I took a break from dating once I came out with my Alopecia. I accepted men would not find me attractive and I would die alone. Then the universe stepped in and put a man from my childhood back into my life (the 6th grade boyfriend I mentioned in a previous post). I am such a hopeless romantic, it’s disgusting and I hate admitting it, but this felt like fate. I was in love with the idea of reuniting with a childhood love. This relationship was no different than my past loves. We drank a lot and fought when we were drunk. I didn’t know how to be myself around him, and I never let him see me without my wig. It ended the way it started, drunk. I went back to therapy.

This round of therapy lasted 10 months. I was ready to conquer my hardships in love. I learned a lot more about myself, and my intimacy issues that I was masking with alcohol. I could count on one hand the amount of times I had sober sex at this point in my healing. I wanted to experience sex on a level I wasn’t, with a real connection. I wasn’t connected to my own body, so how could I possible be connected to someone else’s. I couldn’t even talk about sex with my boyfriend. I got uncomfortable and childish, like it was a taboo subject that I only acknowledged drunk. The work I did on accepting myself this round was much more uncomfortable, but I craved it. I felt like I was peeling off layers of my soul to expose my core authenticity. I started dating while still in therapy and I put into practice the boundaries I was learning to set. I went on a few sober lunch dates, recognized when someone wasn’t for me, and kept it moving. For the first time I felt like I was in control of myself and who I invited into my life, and I didn’t need alcohol to make my choices. I was not sober, don’t get it twisted. I was just learning not to rely on alcohol to navigate my dating life. Then I met the last heartbreak.

I swore I would do everything different with this one, because I wanted to attract the person I wanted to be, not who I had been. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be in a happy, loving, relationship that wasn’t influenced by alcohol. It was an improvement, but definitely not the relationship I dreamed of. I was dating a mirror of the life I was trying to escape. We fell in love so fast, moved in together within six months, he had a daughter and I didn’t want kids (still don’t), but thought kids forced you to mature and drink less, so I was down to be a stepmom. I ignored some red flags, because I am pretty open-minded and understanding (blame the Pisces in me), but there were some flags that couldn’t be ignored. It took his drinking, his drunk fits, and his self-worth issues to make me clearly see the person I did not want to be. I believed him every time he said he wouldn’t get drunk and fight with me, but quarantine made our drinking worse. My hangovers got worse, I didn’t want to drink most days but I let him talk me into it. I started battling a hip disease that wasn’t diagnosed yet, so I relied on alcohol and weed (edibles) to ease my pain and anxiety. I came to realize a lot of my anxiety was coming from the toxic relationship I was in. I was so in love, I didn’t want to walk away, but after the last fight, while I was hiding alcohol bottles to stop him from drinking, I was disgusted. Disgusted in his relationship with alcohol, in my relationship with alcohol and him, and just disgusted in myself. I ended that relationship in a time when I really needed someone by my side, because I was scared about my health, about the future of what was going on with my hip. Scared about the state of the world in Covid. I didn’t want to be alone, but I chose myself, for the first time in my life. I chose what was best for me, not what I wanted, but what I needed.

I thought I would give myself a detox break from alcohol for a month after the relationship ended to gain some perspective and clear my head. I felt like drinking was the last thing I wanted, so one month dry turned into two, then three, and so on. In month two I was diagnosed with my hip disease: Avascular Necrosis in both hips. This disease is rare, but often brought on by long term binge drinking. My doctor doesn’t seem to think this is my cause when I explained my drinking habits, but I am not so convinced. With all of these signs around me I know the universe is helping me become the woman I want to be. My stubborn ass doesn’t do subtle, so I literally had to lose the love of my life, and endure an incurable hip disease to get the picture that my relationship with alcohol doesn’t have a role in my future. I have been dry since September 6th, 2020, and after all of my years of drunken debauchery, I don’t think I am an alcoholic. Some may beg to differ and that’s okay. I am not into labels, and my journey can’t be compared to anyone elses’s. I didn’t need AA to quit, and I can be around alcohol without wanting a drink. I only think about drinking lately because I started dating again, and this time around is nerve-wracking, gut wrenching torture! But at least I know I wont be making the same mistakes and attracting the wrong men. I have started new practices to keep me strong and sane, and I read a lot of books to better understand my relationship with alcohol.

The Resources

I am not sober. I just don’t drink, but edibles (food made with THC from cannabis) played a major role in keeping me dry at first. I was sober for my first 30 days of healing, but once I was diagnosed with my hip disease in October, and a move into my friend’s house (after living in my own space without roommates for 10 years), my anxiety was insane. I had never experienced anxiety before this time in my life, and I was not equipped to handle it. I do know that drinking makes anxiety worse, so I was not even tempted to pop a bottle. I was craving release, so I started taking an edible at night to sleep when my anxiety was at its peak. Edibles are not for everyone, and should be taken responsibly. I still take them, but now that I am three months out of my hip surgery and the world is opening up, I don’t need them. I will dedicate a post to this in more detail later, but if you are curious don’t hesitate to message me.

I read a few books that really opened my eyes to alcohol culture. I also realized how much I could relate to these authors in a way that was inspiring, not shameful. Here are all of the books I read for inspo:

This was the first book I read in my sober September. Rebecca is a fantastic writer, and is great at painting that drunken picture we all hate having in our heads, but need to see to really make a change. She is relatable on so my levels. This is a must read if you have been thinking about quitting or just changing your drinking habits.

I read this after the breakup, because I wanted to know if he was an Alcoholic, and if I did the right thing by ending the relationship. Spoiler: I did! I suggest this book if you are in a relationship with a drinker, or think someone in your life might have a drinking problem. It’s an easy read and somethings are so obvious, but it’s hard to deny or make excuses when you are reading it plain and simple.

I enjoyed this book, it’s a little redundant and scattered, but Sarah is also very relatable as far as her rock bottoms, and relationships go. I really liked her raw honesty. She speaks from the heart. She also has this workbook:

This was cool because it gets you thinking. I liked being accountable to something every morning/night. It gave me something to look forward to.

I just finished this book this week. I read it so fast, because it had so many new perspectives on drinking, alcohol culture, feminism, and AA. Holly doesn’t identify as an alcoholic and I really relate to that. This book is more political than I thought, but is very well researched. Holly is very raw and I feel like we would be friends. I recommend this book to every woman I know, even if you don’t plan on giving up booze, it’s just very interesting, different, and worth reading.

The Conclusion

I am not sober, but I don’t drink. I don’t know if I will drink again. Right now I have decided I will commit to a year without alcohol. I will reassess once I hit that milestone. I do know that I will never blackout again, I will never sleep with someone I’m not attracted to, and I will never hide my authentic self with a liquid cape. Those days are behind me. I have learned and experienced too much to go back there. Maybe I’ll be the occasional drinker on vacations or birthdays, maybe I’ll never touch a drop of booze again. I am too focused on getting in touch with my body and my spirituality right now to think about drinking. I have been saying I want to be the girl that only drinks a glass or two of wine on occasion, that practices yoga and meditation daily, eats healthy, looks bangin’ in a bikini, and doesn’t hide behind her wigs. I would say I’m a quarter of the way there, and I am excited to see how far I will go now that I have no more hangovers. I will leave you with this quote that I live by, “Whatever you are not changing, you are choosing.” – Laurie Buchanan.

Cheers! Xo