Summary

An individual reflects on the profound impact of quitting alcohol, highlighting the priceless gift of rediscovered optimism and a renewed sense of purpose after 225 days of sobriety.

Abstract

The author shares a personal journey of overcoming alcohol addiction, revealing the transformative effects on their life. After six months without alcohol, they experienced a mix of melancholy and newfound clarity, recognizing the wasted time and disengagement from life that alcohol had caused. The decision to quit sparked a significant shift in their perspective, leading to a rekindled passion for writing and a stronger sense of identity. The process involved confronting feelings of being a 'loser' despite external success, and it resulted in a reinvigorated professional purpose and the development of a business providing passive income. The most valuable outcome, however, was the return of optimism, a feeling absent since the author's late 20s. This optimism has paved the way for excitement about the future, a stark contrast to the hopelessness felt during addiction.

Opinions

The author initially felt that quitting alcohol would be a loss, but eventually realized the immense benefits it brought to their life.
They express a sense of wasted time and opportunities due to alcohol-induced disengagement and fatigue.
The author identifies a turning point where they grew tired of not reaching their potential and decided to embrace their identity as a writer.
They found the act of writing on the platform to be therapeutic and a key factor in their sobriety journey.
The author believes that alcohol consumption was linked to making bad decisions or leading to indecision and inaction.
Quitting alcohol led to improved health, energy levels, mood, and interpersonal relationships.
The author values the intrinsic rewards of sobriety, such as self-pride and professional fulfillment, over financial gain.
They emphasize that a better life is attainable and closer than one might think when overcoming addiction.
The author encourages readers to engage with their content by subscribing and expresses gratitude for the support received.

The 1 truly priceless gift quitting alcohol gave me

I recently, without noticing it at first, passed the 6-month mark since quitting alcohol.

As I wrote in a piece last month called I quit alcohol but 1 thing is making me really sad, it hasn’t all been sunshine and roses.

In fact, I’ve been downright melancholy about the whole thing at times.

The problem with quitting alcohol is that, once you get it out of your life, you start to come to terms with all the time you’ve wasted either numbed out on the couch or just tired and generally disengaged from life.

But lest you think I’m a Negative Nelly, I thought now would be a good time to talk about the most priceless gift quitting alcohol has given me after 225 or so days.

It’s a new dawn for ol’ James. (author’s digital self-portrait)

Something clicks

I can’t even begin to tell you how low I felt in the middle of last summer, but here are a few examples:

I felt like I spent enough time in bed every night, but I never felt “rested”.
I felt like I was going to the gym a lot, but I was never really “healthy”.
I felt like I was going to work every day but I never had enough money.
I felt like I needed to start my own business to feel fulfilled but I never had the energy or drive.
I felt like my relationships with everyone were always just OK.

And then, all of a sudden, something just clicked.

I think I finally reached a point where I was tired of being a loser.

Like, not in the traditional sense — I am a great father and husband with a good job and people would look at my life and be like “this guy seems to be doing OK” — but in terms of my view of myself.

I was tired of just going through the motions of life and not reaching what I considered my potential to be in any way whatsoever.

A shift in perspective

I think a big part of that “click” was the fact that I’d always run away from my identity as a writer.

Yes, it came easily to me, but I always wanted to be something else, like a poker player or a stock trader or a graphic designer or an artist, or whatever else could hold my ADHD mind’s attention for more than a few months.

All the while I was drinking though, and drinking leads to either:

a) bad decisions

b) indecision/inaction

Up until late last summer, I was just going through the motions of life and drinking away my nights because I was either bored or unhappy with myself.

In that haze, I just couldn’t fathom a life where I was actually proud of myself.

Love rekindled

Around the same time I decided I no longer wanted to be a loser and started the process of quitting drinking (again), I found this site.

Starting to spill my thoughts and feelings here was very therapeutic for me.

It also rekindled my love of writing and my identity as a writer.

People going through the same challenges as I was seemed to really like what I was putting out there and started responding in a positive way.

Suddenly, I felt like I had professional purpose again.

This was huge.

Quittin’ time

I published my first two articles here on August 24. In the weeks leading up to those posts, I captured the start of my latest quit alcohol streak in my notes app.

I’ve always felt it was important during my previous quitting jags to write down how I was feeling.

It was helpful in and of itself, but it could also serve as a record of my previous attempts that I could mine for information about my own feelings and behavior.

Here’s what I jotted down:

Day 1

Didn’t notice too much. I was still on poor sleep and dehydrated after dad’s visit.

Day 2

This was actually encouraging. Typically Day 2 is horrible, but I’m really motivated this time. Listening to Simon Chapple’s book was really helpful. I listen to these on the stairs at the gym and it’s very encouraging.

Day 3

Pretty uneventful. No cravings really this time around. I think my mind is very set on quitting.

Day 4

Much more patience with the kids and I feel calmer overall. Getting higher-quality sleep probably has a lot to do with that, as well as my body not being angry about not having its drug.

Day 5

Big day for me. Went to a restaurant and my brain was pushing hard to order a beer but I didn’t. I also found myself laughing more easily again and generally being nicer and more patient.

Day 6

I think all my neurochemicals were depleted, I wasn’t sleeping well, I was dehydrated. I feel like my health is returning to where it should be. I saw my reflection in the mirror and I already look younger. My skin is smoothing out. I went for a walk at lunch and I was actually singing. Very unlike me.

I’m also a lot more patient with everyone today, looking people in the eye when I speak, not struggling behind a veil of sadness and fatigue.

Day 7

Pretty uneventful.

Day 8

Quit caffeine today too, so I’m under a bit of stress for sure.

I’ve had to take a couple of breaks to reset my mind the way I had to with alcohol, but I do feel fewer floods of anxiety so we’re on the right track. I think I need to eat more right now.

(later) Actually, I’m back from night gym now and did a hard workout yet I’m still full of energy.

Pretty wild how much life drugs were killing me.

The 1 priceless gift

I could point to so many positives from quitting after 225 or so days (I actually forgot to write down the exact day I quit so I’m ballparking that number).

You can see from the journal above all the health benefits that were kicking in.

Better energy, better body, better mood.

I also felt motivated as a writer and an entrepreneur, and since those dark summer days of feeling like a loser who wasn’t accomplishing anything, I’ve built a business that, lately anyway, pays me some $50+ per day in relatively passive income.

But money is just money.

Quitting alcohol gave me something far more valuable, something I would even refer to as priceless.

It gave me something I hadn’t felt since probably my late 20s.

Optimism.

Mid-summer, I just couldn’t fathom a path for the rest of my life that didn’t involve going through the motions, stagnating professionally, working for no other reason than to pay bills, drinking my nights away, and turning into the tired, ill loser I always dreaded becoming.

Today, I look back at the past 7–8 months and then I look into the future, and for the first time in literally more than a decade, I’m excited.

When you’re in the depths of addiction, you think a better life is so far away.

Well, I’m here to tell you it’s much closer than you think.

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