Dry January

the beginning

It's the morning of January 1st 2019. New Years Day. The beginning of the last of the twenty-teens. This, however, is not a sentimental looking back on the what-could-have-beens and who-would-have-thoughts nor is it an optimistic eye on the horizon line of the year to come. In fact, the starting of a new year is irrelevant here. It's the beginning of the month that's important. The month that's beginning is also important to this story.

January.

A month that has always shouldered the burdens of good intentions and now bears the weight of mass virtuosity. I'm already vegan so there's no point jumping on the bandwagon of the almost unpronounceable Veganuary. Instead, I'm sentencing myself to Dry January.

I don't have a drinking problem. I have no problem drinking at all.

The festive season, of course, sees the units of alcohol ingested skyrocket and, as a modest drinker, the effects are felt. A few mornings ago I noticed that my usual joie de vivre had waned and I trudged to my coffee machine instead of bounding into my gym (read: dusty garage… I’m a writer, remember!). The day after I felt like I'd taken a sledgehammer to my organs. Yesterday an old injury threatened to rear its ugly head, the ache and pain began like an ancient titan waking from a ten thousand-year slumber. I knew it was the indulgence. Particularly the imbibation.

I saw out the old year with a nice (bottle of) wine but it felt like the forced, awkward end of a failed relationship. I was glad that it would be the last bit of booze for a while.

Excitement is the most accurate description of my feelings for the month ahead. I want to clean myself out and freshen myself up. I'm keen to see and feel the difference by the end of it.

Excitement is also a pretty odd feeling to have for an impending period of abstinence. Maybe I need to readdress my relationship with alcohol. This month may not be a time of abstaining at all. I'm wondering now if every time I drink I'm actually abstaining from being my best, healthiest self.

the end

Well, there it is. An entire month of sobriety comes to an end. Actually, the month has come to an end but the sobriety will likely continue for a while. Perhaps a very long while. I honestly thought I would arrive at this point and be gasping for a proper drink. I imagined a glorious moment in which I reverentially took the single malt from the shelf, held it at arm’s length with a loving gaze and greeted it warmly – welcoming it back into my life as a dear friend returned from far away travels. However, as I arrive at the finish line I don’t feel exhaustion (of willpower) nor am I overcome with relief. In fact, as the challenge went on it became easier. With each day that passed, the notion of drinking seemed almost nonsensical. Both physical and mental health improves noticeably with the absence of alcohol. Clarity and consciousness, I have come to realise, are gifts that we should not jeopardise so wantonly.

All that being said…

The timing of this challenge skews the perspective. January is an obvious choice for a new beginning or challenge but following on from such an indulgent festive season is a cop-out. People usually give it a rest at the start of the new year anyway. Gym memberships are up and nights out are down. A true test would be Dry July. Long summer evenings and holidays would surely be the abstainer’s kryptonite. Keeping the drink cabinet locked was a decision made with feather-lightness. I was all too aware the weeknight whisky and lunchtime wine was a naughty treat I was allowing myself for the season. Christmas spirit (and all other spirits) flowed freely with the comfortable reassurance that the new year would bring its inevitable health kick and revision of habits. By the end of December I was practically forcing myself to drink; convincing myself that I was “making the most of it”.

The point of course is not to test the limits of willpower. It’s not about torturing yourself or denying yourself. It’s about recovery, recuperation and proving to yourself that you don’t need to alter your state of mind to have a good time or even just relax. The January challenge is actually an open invitation to enjoy the rest of your year with a healthier mind, body (especially liver) and relationship with booze.

The official Dry January app is fantastic and gives you much more than just a place to track your progress. I chuckled each time I logged a dry day and my phone lit up with a celebratory message but footnoted in tiny font with “I had a drink…” as one last chance to ‘fess up.

I’m not sure when my next alcoholic beverage will be. I’m sure it will hit me like a freight train when I do have one. Either way, I enter February feeling fresh and with quiet pride and gratitude to myself for completing the challenge.