The Stages of Dry January

From denial to acceptance

In past Decembers, I had considered Dry January then bailed out for one reason or another. In 2021, I did three weeks, then drank for a friend’s 40th birthday. Last year, on January 4th, I got very indignant about how I didn’t need to do it because I had already taken a break during December (not for the full month, but enough to make friends ask me if I was pregnant, so I guess I figured it counted). Since my mid 20s, I had done self-imposed months of not drinking. But it always felt like it was out of need: I felt like I was overdoing it. I said something stupid. I dropped a platform on my leg and got a thigh length bruise. Etc.

I come from a family where drinking just meant something was happening. A birthday? Drinks. Thanksgiving? Drinks. Someone got a DUI? Drinks. My parents owned a bar. Drinking was just a part of life.

The occasion for drinking here is that I am outside.

Over the past few years, I felt diminishing returns on drinking. It wasn’t novel like it was when I was underage. It wasn’t seemingly essential like it was in my 20s. I got a lot of headaches. I got hangovers after two beers. So, I cut back. All in all, 2023 was not a banger drinking year for me. I only remember being really drunk once. I drank casually with friends. Not one platform dropped on leg.

I was proud of myself, and thought I was maybe keeping alcohol around purely as window dressing. That I didn’t actually enjoy it anymore. Perhaps I was actually more advanced than Dry January. But, since it had been so long since I’d gone 30 days without alcohol, I figured why not. And whoops, looks like it was harder than I thought it would be.

Denial

Thursday, January 4: Not drinking is very easy. I’ve been able to attack a lot of cleaning. I’ve cleaned out my closet. I did a Crest Whitestrip. I looked up what a baseboard was and cleaned that. I am also exercising every day. This month is going to be amazing, and I will look better than ever. Sidenote: I have not left my house since January 1. No one has asked me to go anywhere with alcohol, and I have not been offered any. But if those situations arose, it would be fine because I am very clean and very fit, and won’t want to ruin my temporarily whiter teeth.

Anger

Sunday, January 7: I am so fucking bored. I have absolutely nothing to do.
If you have nothing to do, alcohol sure does solve that dilemma. It kills so much time. Jake (who is also doing Dry January) and I go to a bar and order mocktails. Mocktails are stupid. They are just 3 fruit juices with ginger ale and cost $12 for some reason. I drink three of them very quickly, then my stomach hurts.

We get so bored that we start The Morning Show. The Morning Show, like drinking, kills a lot of time without adding much substance. It’s Cocomelon for adults. Don’t like one plotline? No worries. It will not matter in two minutes. Always something wild going on.

Monday, January 8: I kept hearing how good my sleep was going to be without alcohol, but to be honest, it has been average to bad. I am having stress dreams. These could also be brought on by the fact that I also decided to go off my antidepressants in the past few weeks. No alcohol, and no meds. Really raw dogging life. In a way, I have never been more “me,” and it sucks that part of “true me” is having stress dreams and being tired. So me.

Depression

Saturday, January 13: Well, well, well if it isn’t the weekend once again. We go to a birthday party at a karaoke bar. They have Diet Coke on draft (from the gun, the best kind), so I can always have something in my hand while talking to people. I drink five of them in an hour because I’m both anxious and very tired. So me.

I sing Oops I Did it Again to tepid responses. The Birthday Girl sings along, but most people are drinking and talking. These are some of the experiences I don’t feel like it’s worth it to be sober for. Years of bombing at open mics has given me the strength to power through, but I’m not sure I needed to relive that in this moment.

Monday, January 15: It’s a 3 day weekend so I take myself to the movies to see “American Fiction.” I get an XL Diet Coke. It’s too big, and seals my fate that I’ll have to get up to pee multiple times. But! it comes from one of those machines where you can mix in cherry and vanilla. You can also mix in ginger and mint now! Shit is truly wild. I worry I’m going to bring this up in every interaction for the next few days.

“American Fiction” is good, btw. I didn’t see the ending coming, and Sterling K. Brown is shirtless for pretty much the whole thing. It’s nice.

Tuesday, January 16: I have an Eye Thing where a small part of my left eye is always blurry suddenly. I go to get some food right before my eye appointment. The place has a killer happy hour: free beer with purchase of any entree. This is personally very offensive to advertise this to me at this point in my life.

I somehow make it even worse for myself and order a smoked salmon quesadilla, as if to declare that if I can’t throw up from drinking, I’m throwing up from something.

My Eye Thing is dry eye. A part of my eye got so dry, it stopped working. It also is a very easy fix: eye drops you can buy literally anywhere. I worry this is going to replace the Diet Coke flavors topic in all of my interactions.

Bargaining

Thursday, January 18: After two days of talking about my Eye Thing, we leave town. The same friend whose birthday I broke Dry January for in 2021 is somehow having a birthday again, and we’re going to Joshua Tree for it. How dare he. I have committed to myself and Our Lord that I will not drink, but I’ve heard that *other stuff* will be present.

When we arrive and meet everyone at the house we’re staying at, I am sweating with anxiety. Everyone is drinking all of my favorite beers and talking about topics I am not confident in, like war, and movies about war. I wish I could drink and then wax ignorantly about what they’re talking about. I want to be where the people are.

I drink four tallboy Liquid Death sparkling waters and three Untitled Art nonalcoholic beers (the Juicy IPA is very good). By the end of the night, my stomach is at capacity, and I cannot drink any more bubbles. But, none of those bubbles were beer, so I guess it’s a win.

Acceptance

Sunday, January 21: Other than tummy bubbles, I never felt sick or hungover the whole weekend. And after the initial “meeting everyone” anxiety, I didn’t have to worry about anything I’d said or done while I was drunk. They also transitioned topics from war and war movies, so I had mostly solid things to say.

For being in a house with several other people and staying up late, I also slept quite well. I am…proud? of myself?

Sunday, January 28: We go bowling with some friends. Bowling feels like a sport made for people who like drinking to pretend like they aren’t solely drinking. It’s so conducive to drinking. You’re mostly sitting and all of your conversations are short due to the nature of the game, so you don’t have to retain too much. The food at bowling alleys is, coincidentally, the same food at bars. It goes together well.

Today, no one in my party is drinking for one reason or another, which makes not drinking a breeze. My friend orders a Dr. Pepper mixed with Mountain Dew, insisting it’s a great combo. One of our friends is a guy named Sam. For the bowling lineup, he goes by BoySam. I go by GirlSam. Everyone else goes by “TheirName-Sam.” We have fun.

Thursday, Feb. 1:

We made it. As of writing this, Jake and I have discussed where our first drink will be like we’re discussing where to lose our virginities.

I have to say, I’m really glad I did this. It proved that drinking is such a small part of “the hang” if you’re with the right people. I feel like this Redditor really summed it up well:

“Spending a few hours at a brewery with a group of friends is damn near a peak experience,” is something I relate to hard. Also, dancing in the living room with my wife, Jake. There are little moments where the alcohol and company mix just right and create perfect little moments. I’d like to be able to more intentional about when those happen, instead of just hoping it happens every time. It doesn’t. And it doesn’t need to. Because then it wouldn’t matter when it did.

Not drinking also made me see clearly that I am still a very anxious person. I do not know why I thought that had changed, but I guess it’s good to check in every once in awhile, and maybe treat it with some anti-anxiety medication. Being “pure me” for a month made me realize that there are some things that make you stronger to endure (i.e. not drinking for a month, watching all of The Morning Show) and some things that maybe you don’t need to do to yourself (wake up every day in a new state of anxiety, sing karaoke sober).

Here’s to doing hard things, and how far NA beers have come.

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STUFF I’VE BEEN V INTO:

CHAPPELL ROAN - THE RISE AND FALL OF A MIDWEST PRINCESS

Best tracks: Casual, My Kink is Karma, Femininomenon

An album that does both dance pop and indie sad songs well. I cannot stop playing it.

APARNA NANCHERLA - UNRELIABLE NARRATOR: ME, MYSELF AND IMPOSTOR SYNDROME

I love a good memoir, and this one is quite groundbreaking in a lot of ways. Aparna addresses impostor syndrome, anxiety and other mental illness with both anecdotal and concrete research. Plus, it’s so funny and well-written. I’ll probably read this again in the near future.

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CHECK ME OUT ON THIS PODCAST!

I did my friend Jessica’s podcast Creator’s Cafe where I talk about Substack a lot, along with grief and drinking, coincidentally. Jess is a great host and I loved doing this. Jake did an episode too! Check it out here. Like and subscribe!