100 Days Sober: What happens when you stop drinking alcohol for 3 months?

why I stopped drinking alcohol

First, here’s my why for going ‘alcohol free’.

Everyone needs (and will have) their own ‘why’ for going sober. Not that a stint of sobriety really requires much explanation to anyone else, or that it’s something all that radical, in reality. Read any fairly current issue of Grazia and it seems to be the wellness trend du jour. It’s the corner of self-care millennials were bound to reluctantly get round to at some point; we were just too busy making avocado toast and plant-growing A Thing first before we fetishised something else obvious and easily achievable (once we’d finished our Espresso Martinis). But, for context, here’s why I stopped drinking alcohol.

My sober girl summer commenced without much fanfare; alas, Gonzo journalism at its finest this wasn’t. No military-precision planning, no pre-game to end all pre-games (literally, as ‘the game’ was sobriety). It just kind of happened after one too many days over a year or two (also known as ‘the pandemic’) when I thought, hangovers are a bit ‘meh’ for moi. If you really want to know, my metabolism started to reject alcohol in a big way this year and then I got REALLY bored of being over-familiar with the inside of my toilet bowl. In all seriousness though (not to diminish the trauma of the toilet bowl, it really wasn’t pleasant), I increasingly suspected it would be a really good idea to see what life was like without alcohol featuring in it. I was pretty convinced that it was making me unhappy in many ways and that sobriety held exciting secrets to becoming ‘my best self’, if I could only manage it.

So I had thought about trying out going sober for a while; but I finally decided in a fairly uninteresting fashion that it was high time I did something about it. The plan was simple; I was going to wait until I actually craved a drink to have one; and was curious about how long that craving might take to appear. I didn’t think it would be so long; the low-key ‘test’ was simply intended to gain more control over when and why I drank alcohol. So, totally unintentionally, the last time I drank was a lovely evening having a Rioja or three in an Airbnb overlooking the Welsh coastal hills, on the June bank holiday. I didn’t know when I might want to drink again but I felt pretty sure that I was ready for a break; and wanted to find out what that would be like. It turned into a much bigger experiment than I imagined.

The benefits of giving up alcohol

Alcohol anxiety: bye Felicia

There’s no disputing that, yep, alcohol is good for reducing anxiety. Sigh. This suspicion was confirmed pretty quickly for me (doctors will be pleased to know I have verified their hypotheses; all further studies can be called off). I was diagnosed with generalised anxiety disorder a few years ago and have tried a combination of CBT, talking therapy and a deep-dive into the virtues of mindfulness, wellness, all the good -ness-es. Yet alcohol undid all the hard work and didn’t feel aligned with how I was looking after my mind more/generally combatting stress in recent years.

These days, I was only drunk once in a blue moon and had long-since begun cutting down alcohol so that, often, it was just a glass or two of red every other Saturday (which I still enjoyed). The problem was, every once in a while I’d be attending a significant social event and still believed I wouldn’t look like I was participating properly unless I got drunk and stayed until the end, even if that’s the last thing I felt like doing…then the self-berating would commence upon waking. My run-of-the-mill musings about my diminishing enthusiasm for alcohol ranged from something along the lines of ‘this probably wouldn’t be my preferred state of mind for my precious Saturday/Sunday of free time’, to more amped-up existential meltdowns of the ‘who even am I’ and ‘what am I even doing’ variety. You know the ones.

I just got a bit bored of feeling fed up with myself/life/my pathetically maturing liver enzymes for 24-72 hours. I was bored of telling myself I might try not feeling like that anymore; then not doing. Which resulted in more anxious feelings of hopelessness and being stuck in patterns that felt hard to break. To confuse things, the feelings of misery weren’t exactly guaranteed, either - I can remember a few occasions over recent years where I had a merry night and it was fun, pleasant, worth the risk of existentialism; with mainly positive thoughts the next day. But I wanted to stop rolling the dice, as the anxiety over the possibility that the hangover might be slightly traumatic was starting to create stress before I’d even commenced a night out.

Hell, even if it wasn’t a bad hangover, I was becoming so sensitive to how drinking made me feel - having also paid more attention to my thoughts and physical feelings of stress in recent years (#mindfulness) - that I knew it was making my anxiety worse on a sliding scale, whether I’d only had a couple or several more, plus shots. In particular, guilt and shame are feelings I commonly struggle with and are an even more prominent feature of my alcohol-addled mind, so the less of this, the better.

Let me be clear; anxiety is still very much something I experience and have to keep on top of most days, with some more successful than others. I do feel I have far less anxious thoughts, however, and the ones I do have aren’t so soul-crushing. I become less overwhelmed by the unhelpful thoughts that occur and feel I have more control over them, with a stronger ability to quickly get back to a calmer place. And that is a significant improvement for any anxious mind.

I can sense the collective eye-roll of Gen Z-ers from here, but yes, it really did take me until the age of 35 to figure out there is only one answer to the torturous, decade plus-long dilemma of how to stop my anxiety after drinking alcohol. Duh - just don’t drink it (insert irrelevant emoji I’ll never get the hang of unless I spend more time on TikTok).

Increased confidence: well hello, self-esteem

Confidence was a big focus for me this year. So going alcohol-free felt like a natural evolution to becoming more comfortable in my own skin. I undertook a group coaching course called Confidence Now, with the brilliant motivational speaker Kirsty Hulse; as well as a course of one-to-one mindset coaching with the equally brilliant Briony Gunson. You might say I was going round the houses to reach self-confidence but, let’s be honest, it takes a village to raise a confident ADHDer with co-occurring generalised anxiety disorder (more on the former later).

For me, one of the biggest benefits of not drinking alcohol was 100% my increased confidence (which of course, goes hand-in-hand with feeling more empowered to manage anxiety too). I was nowhere near feeling as confident as I wanted to be when I was struggling to navigate my relationship with alcohol. In addition to the morning-after anxieties and all of their insecure, self-doubting qualities, I have historically told myself I don’t like myself when I’m drunk. Which, obviously, is a bit sad; is, replaced, then, by a much happier state of affairs when you find yourself thinking sans alcohol, ‘You’re alright, you!’ - I mean, liking yourself more is one of the keys to a good life, isn’t it? As well as, you know, helping others, eating your greens and not murdering.

A big goal of mine was launching live events for Same Shit, Different Brain and I was, naturally, nervous about it. A certain amount of nerves are good; necessary for motivation, even; but I was feeling a little too debilitated to even more forward with putting my plans into action. I did a lot of prep around my mindset and self-confidence in order to take SSDB into the real-world. The negative thoughts I would experience after drinking were not conducive to helping me believe in myself and my business. So it was the perfect time to have gone sober, testing this new, more capable version of myself who did things she’d never done before.

And would you bloody believe it, I hosted my first ever live panel talk for SSDB last month! What’s more, I didn’t even think about needing a drink to get me through, which is pretty wild when a) public speaking was one of my biggest fears and b) a red wine had previously been a reliable source of support for settling nerves (well, sort of - I don’t *think* I ever drank before a theatre performance in my acting days, but that was different - I was playing someone else). Don’t get me wrong, the thought of a wine did cross my mind the night before the event, when I was stressing about last-min prep. But it was more of a huh, I’d usually pour a red wine now; feels funny not to be doing that kind of realisation, which I soon forgot with a hot bath (I know, bore off).

A new approach to socialising (sober)

One of the biggest lies I’d been telling myself was that my social abilities would be impaired without alcohol. However, rather than being more boring in sobriety, I felt more enthusiastic than ever about socialising. As I’ve generally had more energy and a more positive state of mind since quitting alcohol, my worries about saying/doing something stupid or having a hangover were out of the equation when it came to planning a meet-up (OK, I haven’t lost the ability to say something stupid entirely, and yes, I’m still prone to dwell on it if that happens - I’m still human).

I love talking to people and can happily, enthusiastically do this on nights out without a time limit on when I’ll become more incoherent/my thoughts will become less well-formed/my motor skills heavily reduce. Plus, without alcohol blackouts, I get to keep the memories of a great night (disclaimer: great nights still not guaranteed whether you’re sober or not; still, you also get to remember who not to go out with again, when necessary…). If I do say so myself, I felt more witty (at least, if I found myself funnier that’s still a bonus, right?), infinitely sharper and more interesting when I started going out sober (although, with my ability to feel/remember anything improved by default while on the wagon, perhaps I’m being unfair to drunk me).

I realised you care less about what other people think when you get used to explaining you’re doing something that feels strange and new/going against the majority. That something can feel quite isolating; though you do soon realise you build it all up in your head and nobody actually cares as much as you think about whether you’re drinking or not. At the very least, you place less of your self-worth in the hands of others.

I also got to develop a seriously handy skill: how to sneak alcohol into a festival. Because I’m a sucker for making a challenge even more, well, challenging, my alcohol-free beer also has to contain gluten-free alcohol (damn you, wheat sensitivity). So even when a festival has AF beer, it’s never GF too - there’s usually one brand on offer, and that’s our lot. On the bright side, there are an increasing number of great alcohol-free beer (and spirit or sparkling wine alternatives) options out there now, which I’ve enjoyed trying out. Some are even made of mushrooms - what a world we live in (not an ad).

You start to realise how many nice drinks there are to choose from, which helps ease the feeling that you’re depriving yourself. And you definitely appreciate how good hydration actually feels during/after a night out (a very unexceptional observation, yes, but believe me, hungover dehydration was becoming pretty traumatic and boring for me). Plus, kombucha as an alcohol alternative makes you look quite the hipster (honestly, it’ll start to taste good if you stick with it).

Better physical health

Rather lovely were the changes I noticed in my physical health, which were further benefits of giving up alcohol (I mean, you’d damn well hope so wouldn’t you?). I definitely have more energy now - I used to find myself craving afternoon naps at the start of the week, or on car journeys after weekends away. That doesn’t happen now, as long as I’ve slept well the night before (let the passenger-seat Instagram scrolling commence uninterrupted, yippee!).

On that subject, I have also found I’ve slept better in general, with no more waking in the night feeling all charged up in my nervous system; hallelujah. This is a big change from my more anxious periods in recent years. A strong sleep routine is massive for everyone; the biggest pillar of good health, research increasingly concludes. So, I’m more sensible these days around staying up to watch three extra episodes of something then feeling pissed off that I’ve sacrificed an hour or two of kip. Sleep deprivation can feel very similar to a low-level hangover, so what’s the point of abstaining if I’m not even trying to catch enough Zs?

Because my coping strategies for stress have been switched for healthier ones, this inevitably has a better knock-on effect on how I feel. Stopping what I’m doing, taking off the pressure and resting is nearly always the most immediate solution to feeling anxious these days; with no after-effects, of course. I know, *yawn* - it really is the basics that work best though, we just tend to overcomplicate things (I know I do). For other quick fixes where a glass of something strong would usually be relied upon to save the day, add in seeing a loved one/friend, exercise, journalling, meditation or a favourite hobby to those basics in your mental health ‘toolkit’. For the latter, my preferred activities are gardening, playing guitar, going on a walk in nature or laughing at a sitcom (currently People Just Do Nothing, if you’re wondering).

I largely eat more healthily now, rather than going all-out with food on weekends to self-soothe, then feeling even more rubbish on a Monday due to bloating/sluggishness/stomach ache…I still treat myself, I’m not a masochist; it’s nice to indulge on some level, for a little light and shade (I’m yet to kick my daily chocolate consumption and I know sugar isn’t great for us either but one thing at a time, jeez). I just don’t go quite as crazy in the absence of hangovers where I indulge in/try to resist bottomless sugary or salty highs, without a hope in hell of achieving satisfaction. Gut health is very buzzy right now, for good reason. But rather than following fads, it’s really about what personally works for you, getting to know what hurts your stomach, or impacts things like your mood and sleep.

I’m not above admitting that the superficial aspects of sobriety appeal to me too - is there anyone so absent of vanity that clearer skin and shinier hair aren’t a big sell? I won’t lie though, I thought I was going to achieve Gwyneth-levels of visible wellness…the uptick in glowiness wasn’t all that dramatic (*goes to double-check and compare old selfies*).

ADHD and alcohol: how does alcohol affect adhd for me?

So to expand on the matter of my ADHD, my personal experiences with alcohol can’t be discussed without mentioning this. I received my official diagnosis of ADHD this year and it only deepened my determination to be a little more involved in managing my own health and getting to know my triggers for certain symptoms.

I wanted to be less troubled by my own propensity for overthinking and start to feel better equipped to face down racing/intrusive/repetitive thoughts and change negative thought patterns; all that jazz. ADHD also has a big impact on my energy levels, particularly when I tire myself out with hyperactivity, which was another tick in the box of avoiding energy-draining hangovers for a while to see how that felt.

Rejection sensitive dysphoria becomes an ADHD symptom you have to actively manage in strange new ways in sobriety, when you’re the one putting yourself up for ‘rejection’ (whether imagined or otherwise) by doing something that feels unusual or like you’re presenting a new version of yourself to the world, with different habits (alcohol is, of course, the only drug you have to explain not taking). So this is a highly valuable exercise in relying on yourself more for validation, rather than searching for it externally.

Crucially, as alcohol is a depressant that interferes with your brain’s mood-regulating neurotransmitters, it disrupts the levels of feelgood hormones like serotonin and dopamine. These chemicals, involved with feelings of pleasure and reward, as well as functions such as digestion, are already deficient in people with ADHD. Alcohol affects emotional regulation too and - you’ve guessed it - this is something ADHDers are already up against, with or without alcohol. Drinking also impacts everyone’s ability to focus and control impulses - so this, too, becomes even worse, as these are leading symptoms of ADHD.

how i quit alcohol

I’m not going to say it was easy to stop drinking alcohol; but it also totally depends on your own personal circumstances. The reasons why people drink alcohol are wide-ranging and complex; it takes some work to even uncover those in the first place. Of course, many people don’t have any issues with drinking at all. But 1,900 people Google ‘how to stop drinking alcohol’ every month in the UK, so it’s hopefully worth sharing my experiences for those who might find it helpful.

For me, it properly started with a series of conversations with my brilliant mindset coach, Briony, which I completely acknowledge is a privilege not everyone can consider. However, there are some great books out there around the psychology of alcohol and the benefits of quitting drinking, if this is something you’d like to learn more about, if only for an experiment and to see what happens when you try something different. This Naked Mind was unbelievably effective. Before I read it, I wondered how I’d ever uncondition myself from wanting a drink to enjoy myself, feel less bored, be more interesting(!) or navigate anxiety. After reading it, I didn’t crave alcohol once (it might have been a bit too effective, as the thought of my previously beloved red wine started to actually make me feel a bit nauseous, rather than trigger the long-familiar feeling of longing).

To stick to the alcohol experiment I’d committed to (particularly when I decided that tracking the number of days would be quite nice, consequently setting the 100-day goal), I paid more attention to what I wanted to feel when I drank. If I had any thoughts such as ‘he might think I’m boring’, I might look weird’, ‘she might think I’m changing too much’ or ‘they might think I’m pretending to be something I’m not’, I started to dismiss them as Letting Others’ Opinions of Me Become More Important Than My Own. The funny thing is, these voices living rent-free in my mind, thinking imagined thoughts, were entirely of my own creation. So needless to say, heeding the voices in your head won’t solve anything. That way madness lies…

Journalling really helps too; it takes a little quiet focus and writing it out to hone in on what’s going on in your mind, uncover deep-seated triggers, experiences and motivations, and feel generally more level-headed and capable of living each day on your own terms. If you try to stop drinking alcohol and your willpower keeps slipping up, don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s all part of the process and will help you become even more familiar with your ‘why’.

I’m no expert and can only offer my own perspective and methods. If you want to armour yourself with more knowledge around sobriety and/or alcohol’s effects, such as what happens to your body when you stop drinking alcohol or the answer to ‘what does alcohol do to your brain’, there are plenty of verified sources of information out there. I’m more than happy to answer any questions you may have and offer support if you need it.

Conclusion

This has undoubtedly been a life-changing experiment for me, drastically changing areas of my life I was unhappy with and helping me to love myself that bit more (cheesy, yes, but remiss not to include this pretty appealing outcome). The alcohol experiment has helped me to isolate other areas I might want to address, in search of inner zen. I have noticed more clearly how my ADHD and anxiety can manifest and have had to try and ensure that I don’t use all my newfound energy to overwork myself/kid myself into thinking I don’t still need plenty of rest to stay in a good place mentally and physically. Without scheduling in regular time to take the brakes off, my anxiety can spiral just as quickly as it can with alcohol.

You do quickly become used to a calmer state of mind, more confidence and energy, and overall increased happiness. So to support this and avoid compromising any of that good stuff, you still have to pay careful attention to how you look after yourself in other areas, as discussed above. I learned that alcohol isn’t the sole cause of stress and anxiety, so I can’t slack off in other areas of my health and habits (dammit). Also, beware of becoming complacent when you start to forget how ‘before-times’ felt and you wonder whether drinking was really all that bad (this will happen). Remember why you stopped in the first place, if your sobriety is something you decided you wanted to commit to long-term.

I also learned it’s not actually that big a deal, in the grand scheme of things. The longer you don’t drink, the less you think about it. You realise how much importance you were giving to what was in people’s glasses and wonder how you ever let it hold so much power over you. Let me state that my views/experience don’t apply to those who need professional support with giving up alcohol - here are some resources if this sounds like you:

  • https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/guides-to-support-and-services/addiction-and-dependency/addiction-and-dependency-resources/

  • https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/alcohol-advice/alcohol-support/

I hope you found my account of going sober for 100 days helpful. I’m not picking up a drink anytime soon; however, I am going on a big holiday soon, so I’ll lay out all my cards and say I *might* have a wine, but I’ll see whether I feel like it at the time. I do slightly worry that if I have one, it’ll be like a house of cards and all of my good habits will go out of the window. But I’m trying to take that pressure off and just do what I actually want to do now (rather than drinking because it seems like I ‘should’) - and that was the whole aim all along.

Follow Rebecca Ryder and Same Shit, Different Brain on Instagram.

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ADHD, Fasting and disordered eating

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Pet Bereavement: Stop the Taboo and See it’s a Mental Health Issue