I knew when I gave up booze that it was going to be a challenge, and this was purely because I had let alcohol sneak into so many areas of my life – that trusty plus one. Who was I without alcohol? What would happen without my friend? What would change? What would I lose? What would I miss out on? What would I lack?
It was a foreign concept to me, going on about my business without my main companion. I’m not going to lie.
The journey wasn’t easy. But it was the best time I’ve ever had. And the rewards outweighed the – well – there were no risks, but it took a while to realise that.
And here’s how it felt…
My last drink was a gin and tonic. It was about 3am at The Saint Hotel in St Kilda. I don’t think I even enjoyed it. I had definitely enjoyed the two or three I had started on – almost 12 hours early at 3 o’clock in the afternoon at home, surrounded by good friends. But then I had gone on a drunken-non-event style journey and ended up in a bar and was ordering the same drink hours later – why? – because I needed it. I woke up with a hangover, again.
I spent my day sculling water, moisturising my face, brushing my teeth, chewing gum, spraying perfume, cancelling plans, eating junk food, watching shit TV, hiding from the world, watching the clock, feeling anxious about work, wondering whether I would make Pilates at 6am, dreading 9am and Monday morning WIP at work. What a rosy way to spend a sunny Sunday. Not.
And then, it was no more.