Here’s a short list of what I’ve accomplished since I stopped drinking two years ago:
- Lost 75 pounds
- Bought a bad-ass loft condo
- Finished a first draft of an advice book
- Started exercising three days a week, then four
- Went from a size XXL to size Large
- Performed in three comedy festivals
- Got a badass new job
- Finished multiple drafts of multiple television and movie scripts
- Went from 42-inch waist to 36-inch
- Went from hating myself daily to relatively enjoying myself
A lot of this is what I externally accomplished, what I can show on paper. But I think that last one is the most important.
I’ve learned a lot in two years, so I thought I’d share that with you, in case you’d like to take a break from the booze cruise. Also, that’s what I tell myself: I’ve taken a break. Maybe I’ll drink again. Maybe I won’t.
But overall, life seems to be a shitload better for me because I took a break. Perhaps it could be for you, too.
1. Thing’s I’ve learned
What a shocker! As someone who’s been drinking since his senior year of high school (sorry mom, we weren’t just “hanging out” in the basement), most events in my life revolved around booze.
Almost everything does: Comedy shows, concerts, after-work functions, meetups, dates, conferences, dinner, museum tours. But guess what? The events don’t change if you decide not to drink!
You’re still you. Maybe you’re a little less “inhibited,” but is that altogether terrible? I’ve found that when I hang out with folks who have been drinking, I start to feel the same way I was — in terms of becoming silly, goofy, fun — when I was around people while drinking.
And I remember everything that happened during the events, too, which is always nice.
2. You have way less regrets
Since I stopped drinking, I’ve yet to wake up and look at my phone, see something I texted, and go, “Ugh, wwwwwwhhhhhy.” I’m in control of my actions basically all of the time.
I think a lot more before I respond to something someone says. If I’m angry, it gives me time to calm down instead of just reacting like a shithead. Drinking definitely helped my inner asshole come out a lot more often.
Now I am better at keeping the jerkier side of me locked up. It still comes out, sure, but at least I have more control over when that happens.
3. People will judge the shit out of you
This one was the weirdest one to deal with. Many, many folks will give you shit for not drinking. Here are some actual things I’ve been told:
“C’mon, dude, just have one beer! It’s not like you’re going to meetings or whatever!”
“I can’t trust someone who doesn’t drink”
“You’re not fun unless you’re drunk.”
“When you don’t drink, it makes me feel bad about myself, which makes me not like you.”
“I can’t date someone who doesn’t want to get drunk with me, sorry.”
I’ve bet I said some of these things back when I used to drink. Because when you’re around someone who doesn’t do something you like doing, you can be taken aback by it.
I’ve had friends who’ve stopped hanging out with me because I don’t drink anymore. I’ve had relationships end (or not even start) because of it. I have been sent screenshots of people I know talking smack about me to other people because I choose to not do a thing.
It’s weird. But it makes you realize the bad relationship with booze other folks must be having. And for that, I have empathy. And I hope they figure it out.
4. You sleep so much better
I haven’t slept this great since before high school. Holy shit it’s fantastic. I could link you to all the studies that show how alcohol affects your sleep, but hey, take my word for it.
5. You get less sad
I don’t know if I have depression, but I used to get bummed out a lot. Days where I wouldn’t want to leave my apartment, or see anyone, mostly because I hated myself.
I don’t hate myself nearly as much as I used to. I’m generally okay with my life and who I am. Positivity is my go-to emotion, even when something bad or terrible happens to me.
It’s like I flipped this switch inside my brain: Instead of going to shittiness, I try to find the reason something is positive. It’s definitely weird to have this happen to me.
6. You develop more empathy for others
A few weeks ago, this guy blared on his horn because I was crossing at a crosswalk and he wanted to turn, and he almost hit me with his car, then he flipped me off and told me to go fuck myself and die.
Old me probably would’ve stood in front of him, not moved, taken a photo or video of him, shared it on the internet, explained, “Hey look at this asshole who tried to hit me with his car!” and felt smug and wonderful about it.
Instead, after an initial moment of fear and anger, I realized this dude is probably having an awful day. Maybe he’s late for an appointment. Maybe he’s trying to get to the hospital to see his sick son who has cancer. Maybe he didn’t have as loving of parents as I did, and that’s filled him with resentment his entire life.
Either way, that guy has something going on, and I wanted him to be happier. Then I felt weird, because my brain has been wired forever to be a little shit to anyone who wrongs me. But now? I generally jump to empathy. I like that it does that now.
7. You save so much money
I bought a condo. I’d like to pretend as though it wasn’t because of how much money I saved not drinking and buying food while drunk, but probably 1/4th of my down payment came from just abstaining from booze.
Yeah. I know.
8. You get tired earlier
It’s pretty hard for me to stay up past 11 p.m. most nights, even on the weekends. When I was drinking, booze was a magical fuel that kept me going, trying to find a new adventure.
Now that I don’t drink, I’m not constantly searching for adventure, trying to find one more fun thing that will fill the empty void inside of me. I’m content with what I’ve done for the day, and my body wants to go to bed. I dig that.
9. You become amazingly productive
When you’re not spending most of your free time at bars, you get a lot of shit done. I read more. I write more. I learn more.
I spend more time working on bettering myself and my skills than I ever would have sitting at a bar, chatting with a buddy or two. I’m much less social than I was previously, but I’m also creating more art and failing a lot more than ever before.
In the end, I know I’m going to die. I’d rather there be a few things of me still hanging around a few years after I’m dead, some sort of expression of myself that others can enjoy. That requires me to put in the time to work on projects, make something tangible and real for others to enjoy.
That seems, now, like a better use of my time than chatting with some pals at a bar. That conversation may have been great, sure, but in the end, it dies with me and those people. If I can create a few things that last longer than me, it makes my life last longer. It means I mattered a little more.
I’m glad I haven’t drank for two years. Sure, I’ve done a few shots of Malort with people who’ve never tried it. And that one time a dude threatened to kick my ass if I didn’t drink that shot of whiskey he bought me to congratulate me on “being so funny” after hearing me tell jokes about how I don’t drink anymore.
If you ever think, hey, this drinking thing isn’t fun anymore, it’s okay to take a break. I just quit. For me, it’s been relatively easy, and I know it isn’t easy for everyone. But just know I’ve found countless rad people who can have fun without booze. And you can, too.