# 6 Why I gave up alcohol

Before we start, please understand this is not a preaching session. I don’t give two hoots if you drink alcohol or not – that’s your journey and your story. This is mine.

I’ve always had an issue with alcohol, and when I mean an issue, it hasn’t necessarily been with me and my relationship with alcohol, it’s been the people around me and their relationship with alcohol that fuelled my story.

When I was around ten years old, my Mum and stepdad went through a fairly intense time in their marriage. You know; the fighting, the yelling, the slamming doors. My older siblings had either left home or were never home, so it was my two younger siblings and me. I won’t go into the actual details of what went on during those times, but let’s summarise those years being dominated by stress, fear, tension, and for me a feeling of helplessness – that everything was out of my control.

I don’t hold any blame towards my Mum or stepdad for those times as I have learnt through my own work that they were merely doing their best – they were doing their best with the tools they had, and that is that.

Alcohol was a dominant player in those years – for my story – the memories of my siblings are somewhat different. That is the interesting part of the stories we tell ourselves and our perception of our outer world. Two people can be exposed to the same situation and walk away with two very different experiences. From those years my story in relation to alcohol was attached to abandonment, loss of trust, fear, anxiety, and this feeling that I had no control.

As a teenager I wasn’t big into drinking, however, I did drink as alcohol consumption around adults was quite normal. I would drink the low alcoholic drinks like West Coast Coolers – oh who remembers those days!!! haa haa – and to be cool to drink a spirit it would be Malibu (what was I thinking?!). I got drunk very easily, which wasn’t a surprise based on my size and the health issues I was suffering at the time.

When I moved into the city as a 19-year-old, my alcohol intake upleveled. Clubbing was the scene and getting drunk was the deal. Even though I don’t think I drank more than my friends, I was certainly more wasted than them every time. And OMG, the hangovers, I would spend all day the next day in bed as my flatmates bounced up and went out and enjoyed their weekend. I didn’t get it; how could they do that when I thought I was literally dying. 

I persevered though; I am a bit stubborn like that! I had so much fun going out and drinking, and not just drinking – getting drunk. The quiet introverted version of me disappeared and the uninhibited version ran supreme! Dancing on the top of tables, singing loudly (with the illusion I could actually sing!), and generally running a muck. I had many close calls – in terms of personal safety – and looking back I am so grateful the universe kept me ‘mostly’ safe. This behaviour continued until my mid-20s.

In my mid-late 20’s I entered a relationship with someone who actually had an addiction to alcohol. Seeing this behaviour from the perspective of a partner, my relationship with alcohol changed. It was no longer a fun escape from myself, it became a trigger to my childhood wounds. I didn’t stop drinking, I just rarely got drunk. I was by default the designated driver and I started putting my walls up against this person who always needed alcohol to be part of our plans.

I started shutting down due to the triggers and became resentful towards this partner and his reliance on alcohol. This period caused immense emotional pain, and although I knew that my pain was attached to childhood trauma, I thought by trying to ‘change’ him, I would start to feel better. How did that go for me? Not very well! Again, I persevered, however, this continued to bring me more pain as internally I was associating his unwillingness to limit his drinking with me ‘not being enough’ for him to do so. This partner was a functional drinker, and he was not aggressive or violent, I just couldn’t deal with being in a relationship with an addict.

After the ending of that 8-year relationship, I very quickly entered another relationship. Of course, I had not learned the lessons the universe was trying to teach me and this partner was a daily drinker … and a narcissist. Throughout this relationship, my coping mechanism resulted in me dissociating. I started drinking more, which truth be told was more out of fear as he would ridicule me if I didn’t drink with him.

During all my adult years, the other thing I noticed was I was extremely uncomfortable around drunk people. I had a huge fear of being around people when they were drunk, and I had difficulties with self-confidence and my ability to set boundaries. I struggled associating and having fun with people who were drinking when I wasn’t. Which is probably why I mostly drank when others did. I didn’t know how to be safe when I was sober around non-sober people.

When that relationship ended and I found myself back on my spiritual, self-discovery path, my alcohol consumption decreased. However, I would have these occasional ‘blow-outs’. Where I would get drunk, be extremely hungover, and have extreme anxiety over the fact I got drunk. I realised that I really, really, didn’t like the person I became when I drank. I also realised that my body seems super sensitive to alcohol.

So over the past few years, I gradually drank less, until last year, I stopped altogether. My decision to stop drinking isn’t about feeling superior or holding myself to some higher standard - it’s simply what feels right for me. I don’t judge anyone who chooses to drink; I just know that alcohol and I are no longer a good match, and I won’t be inviting it back into my life.

I also know that I still have healing to do around what alcohol triggers in me, and I am ok with that. I know I am not perfect, and I recognise that my actions over the years requires me to do more work to uncover more within myself. My view on the essence of healing is to recognise the patterns, learn from them, and keep moving forward, even when things feel difficult.

Healing isn’t linear - it’s a journey with ups, downs, twists, and turns. Some days, you may feel like you’ve made massive progress, and other days, old wounds or triggers resurface, making it seem like you’re back at square one. But even setbacks are part of the healing process.

Healing happens in layers. Each time something resurfaces, it’s an opportunity to address it from a new level of awareness. Instead of being a straight path, it’s more like a spiral - coming back to similar themes but with deeper wisdom and understanding each time. I am very grateful for the journey so far!