I often get asked why I decided to quit alcohol, and this is often followed by a comment like “well, you must not be much fun”. I like to challenge that question by saying “I now get to have fun with my friends. I get to remember my night. I get to play with my baby boy the next day and go for a run because I feel fresh. What’s not to love!?”
You see, I used to drink to get drunk. I didn’t drink because I loved the taste – in fact I loathed the taste. I drank to escape life; essentially to run away.
Many years ago, I worked behind a bar in Munich. I remember going from sober to drunk in literally five minutes. Towards the end of my shift, I free-poured myself the biggest, strongest, and quite honestly the most disgusting glass filled with vodka (which was my drink of choice) and sugar (simply to ensure I could stomach it) and I downed that baby in two seconds flat. ‘Cause I needed to “catch up” to my already-drunk friends.
This was a regular thing for me. I wasn’t confident in my own abilities so I felt I needed alcohol to make my personality shine.
Another time I was at a nightclub and was so p*ssed I lost my bag, wallet, phone and dignity. At the time, I would brag about how funny this was. Looking back, again it wasn’t.
Not really surprisingly, this destructive behaviour landed me in hospital. I woke up one morning, peering open my eyes to see a doctor standing over me. I looked at him and said “I knew this would happen one day” and fell back to sleep. I made this situation into a joke and told everyone this “funny” story about that time I completely wrote myself off and landed in hospital.