It's not me, it's you: Why I've broken up with booze

I broke up with alcohol because it lied and cheated on me.

After many decades together, I thought we had a mutually beneficial relationship. But I got to the point where I realised alcohol did not have my back, and there wasn’t one benefit in sticking with it.

There were lies all around. Alcohol-induced lies. Lies I told myself. Lies society kept throwing at me at every turn, on every street corner.

Alcohol’s a reward. You’ve had a big week, mate. And a hard-earned thirst needs a big cold beer.

Alcohol will help you relax.

Alcohol is good for you in moderation.

Alcohol is the perfect distraction for the busy mind.

Alcohol makes you more fun, and you have more fun.

Alcohol represents success. Bond, James Bond. Nice watch. Bespoke suit. Martini in hand.

These were lies I accepted. But realising the runway of life is now much shorter than when I began my relationship with alcohol, I needed to be honest with myself.

So, I questioned the fundamentals of the relationship and came away enlightened. Alcohol wasn’t a reward. I was poisoning not fuelling my body.

Research told me there was no safe level of alcohol, nor any proven health benefits.

As for a great distraction and reward, well, why was booze the best option given what I was learning?

That went for the so-called connection between alcohol and fun. I’m a sociable guy when I’m sober. Why do I need to get buzzed to have fun?

On the social cachet associated with drinking, again, it was all smoke and mirrors. Nothing more than a creation of advertising and marketing. As I realised all this, the lies fell like a house of cards.

So, I told alcohol we were going to have a break.

Two years ago, I gave Dry July a go. It seemed like climbing Everest. One breathless step at a time. One alcohol-free day at a time marked off on the wall calendar.

But I did it.

Then, as a precursor to a UK holiday, I did it again last year. I even raised a bunch of money thanks to the support of friends and family.

Having proven to myself I could do it, I called alcohol’s bluff. This was more than a break to reset ourselves.

The days without the jungle juice became weeks. Became months. Now, I’m pushing towards a year – a milestone I would never have imagined.

And you know what? The longer I’ve gone, the less I’ve missed alcohol and the more the benefits have kept me going.

From the get-go, my sleep was divine. Deep, deep undisturbed sleep that sets me up each day to be in the best condition. That’s meant no ‘hangxiety’. You know, that toey feeling as you try to get your thoughts in order and get on track for the day even if you’ve just had a couple the night before.

My heart health and blood markers have improved, meaning I can pull back on medications. I feel quantifiably better.

So do my finances. In a cost-of-living crisis, going alcohol-free is as good as putting money in the bank.

But the biggest plus – my absolute number one – has been the extended battery life I get each day. I get more done and squeeze more out of life, greeting each dawn ready and raring to go.

Our society doesn’t like it when you don’t drink. It’s not normal. And many of us have not questioned our choice to drink since we entered adulthood.

The reaction of friends and colleagues showed me how embedded alcohol is in our lives.

They’ve been curious about why I did it, how I did it and will I keep at it. Some have been so impressed they’ve felt inspired to follow my course. Others are dumbfounded and look at me as if I’ve become a monk or joined a cult. No, I made a lifestyle choice.

For me, it’s not about what others think.

The truth for me was I was in an abusive relationship: alcohol lied to me.

So I got out and I don’t see any reason – not one – to get back together.

Breaking up can be hard to do. Alcohol will do what it can to change your mind. Here are five tips that helped me.

• I rationalised why I was going alcohol-free. What was the impact of the relationship? What would the result be if we broke up? How would life change? How would it improve?
• I identified trigger times and developed new habits. I equated finishing a big week as a time to pop the cork on the bubbly. I realised there was a 10-minute window where I had a craving, and I needed a distraction. That meant doing something different. I turned on the TV, walked the dog and substituted a champagne flute for a glass of mineral water or diet ginger beer. Guess what? It worked.
• I noted the benefits of breaking up. You are unlikely to escape internal and external pressures to drink. I countered this by reminding myself of alcohol’s lies and why we broke up in the first place. I mentally clock situations in life that I know I handle better because I am clear-headed and 100% on my game. Also, curious friends have helped me to verbalise why I freed myself from alcohol’s grip in the first place.
• I sought help. Over the years, I’ve discussed my drinking with health professionals. When I broke up with alcohol, I joined communities of interest like Hello Sunday Morning where I shared my experiences and listened to others. The Headspace app helped me find ballast in my life, too.
• I rewarded myself. With my booze budget eradicated, I’ve had extra cash to buy the occasional small luxury or special dinner. I have more energy and the days are longer. That means I’ve had more time to smell the roses, jump on my gaming console, and pursue experiences that give me joy. I learned alcohol wasn’t much of a reward anyway and just complicated life.

Stuart Howie is a Canberra-based media and communications specialist and author of the award-winning The DIY Newsroom. This is his third Dry July.