I Quit Drinking because Everybody Told Me I was such a Fun Drunk

Now I’m boring, and it’s awesome

Around 2015, I was deep into my drinking phase. I was spending way too much money hanging out at bars, gaining a bunch of weight, and waking up feeling like garbage. But none of that bothered me, and in a weird way, I reveled in it. I was young and having fun and didn’t see any problems with that lifestyle.

Tom was a sober friend of mine. Not a close friend, but a nice and fun guy who I enjoyed seeing around when he came out. One time I overheard him talking about me, “Rick makes drinking look like so much fun.”

You would think I would have taken it as a compliment. Tom certainly only meant it as a good thing, there was no backhanded maliciousness on his part, and I don’t think he knew that I overheard. But for some reason, it irked me. I’m not even sure I have the exact words to express why. But something about a sober person, someone who previously struggled with abusing alcohol, saying that I made drinking look fun… it made me feel icky.

Not icky enough for me to stop, of course, I continued to drink. But I started to notice a pattern of people telling me similar things. People would say how fun I was when I was drunk or that they loved me when I was drunk—and every time, what they meant to be a compliment ended up making me feel gross.

I think it’s because drinking had become my identity in their eyes. And it was a fair assessment. I was always drunk with them, so why would they think anything else? Even if it was the reputation as the ‘fun drunk’, it still meant that I had a reputation as being the drunk, which is not a good reputation to have. I decided to cut back a bit on drinking.

But I wasn’t gonna be sober; that was for people with problems, and I didn’t have a problem. I was the fun drunk! I wasn’t starting fights or cry calling my exes. I was having a good time.

I decided only to drink on weekends, which is a very fair assessment. The weekends are when you are supposed to decompress and go out. This was it. I was finally becoming an adult and making responsible decisions. Except drinking every weekend didn’t feel like a big difference. I had already mostly been going out on weekends; after all, people have jobs. I wasn’t hanging out with the crew daily. I should cut back even more.

I decided only to drink on special occasions—holidays, birthdays, and formal events such as weddings. Guess what? There’s a holiday pretty much every month, and with enough willpower, it's possible to find somebody with a birthday almost every weekend.

I decided birthdays were out of the picture. Only holidays and special occasions now. Against what would be naturally assumed, this is actually when my drinking was at its worst. This is the phase in my journey when I craved drinking. When I missed it the most. I was now drinking about once a month. I would hang out with friends and jealousy would arise while I stood around with some dumb little cranberry juice. I resented them for drinking and resented myself for this rule I chose. But on those rare occasions when I did drink… Oh boy, did I drink?

It was a blast. I was drinking like I was being paid for it. And those days were bliss. But the mornings were a disaster. And not just the mornings but the entire next day was a wash. I was lying in bed, miserable. I don’t know if it was because my body wasn’t used to the alcohol anymore or because I was getting older, but the fun that alcohol brought me did not match the amount of pain that followed.

In 2023, I once again made a rule. I decided that I would only drink ten times for the whole year. It was a big commitment but I wanted to challenge myself. Also, I would no longer binge drink like I was a college student. This was a challenge at first. I would attend parties and not drink. I felt judgement from others, wondering why I was being such a square. My anxiety when I saw people was up and I felt like I was no longer fun.

But then sometime in the middle of the year, I’m not sure exactly when… it was probably a gradual process, I realized I didn’t crave it anymore. I remember one day being surprised. I was hanging out with friends sober and it didn’t feel weird not to have a beer in hand. My anxiety was not as bad as it was, and I realized that my friends did not care at all that I wasn’t drinking. In fact, they never did. It was all just in my head. Was I less fun than I used to be? Probably. But a train-wreck is always more fun than a train on the tracks, it doesn’t mean people want a train-wreck.

And honestly, being a boring guy is better than I thought it would be. Boring kinda means more productive and goal-oriented, so in a way, boring kinda rocks.

I don’t remember how many times I drank in 2023 because I stopped counting around five probably.

This year, I set a new goal for myself. If last year I was going to drink less than ten times, this year I was going to drink less than ten drinks. It's a fair goal. And unlike last year, when it sounded like a challenge, this year, it felt like it would be a cakewalk. This year, I might have well not even made it a goal because I knew that without the goal, I was still going to achieve it.

I’ve had three beers so far this year. They were all in situations that I don’t regret because they felt natural and relaxed, and I had no problem stopping at one. Honestly, I think I had them more so the people around me would be comfortable drinking, not because I wanted to.

I’m not sure if I will have a fourth beer this year. I don’t have a desire to be sober, but I also have no craving to drink. Might I, on occasion, if the situation feels appropriate? Perhaps. But my wallet and my belly definitely thank me for the progress I’ve made.