The Difference Between Existing and Feeling Alive
How curiosity, capacity and clarity grow without alcohol
One of the things I remember most about my drinking years was how, after a night (or weekend) of drinking, I just wanted the next day to be over so I could feel better again.
I can remember mornings after drinking where my body (and mind) felt pretty horrible. Not just hungover and tired, but also dulled out - like my nervous system had been flattened overnight.
My mind immediately started scanning about the day ahead, but instead of feeling open to it, there was a dread and resistance underneath it all.
I could muster the energy to do only the simplest things. Laundry. Make meals. Make sure the kids’ needs were met. Nothing more.
Doing something fun or creative? Not a chance. Just the the path of least resistance, please. Mostly…“I can’t wait for this day to be over so I can wake up and feel better tomorrow.”
Looking back now, it’s surprisingly easy to see how exhausting that way of living actually was. It felt like there was a body moving through the day, but less interest in the richness and vividness of life that was right there waiting to be experienced.
Fast forward to today.
It’s not that I never get tired. Sometimes I stay up too late at a concert or simply have a perimenopause-related crappy night’s sleep. I’ll feel draggy the next day. But even then, a power nap can revive me in a way that never would have been possible with a hangover.
Sobriety has restored not just energy, but capacity.
Capacity to participate.
Capacity to connect.
Capacity to stay curious.
And curiosity, at least for me, seems to be where life starts opening again.
Such as…I would have never hosted a silent retreat during my drinking years. I wouldn’t have believed I had the confidence or clarity for something like that.
I might not have ever started this group where we engage in activities with other women that require no alcohol at all. I’m so grateful for the women here in Sober Sisters in STL!
I love learning new things…currently, I’m testing my skills with the game Mahjong now. I was oddly resistant to it at first, but a friend talked me into trying it, and I’m also teaching my boys to play. It’s totally overwhelming in the beginning, but we’re getting the hang of it.
I’m reading more books than I used to. Tonight, I’m attending a forest bathing experience at the Missouri Botanical Garden.
The golden hour of my day is between 5–7 a.m. the time when I feel most alive and open to life. Running a few days a week has come easily lately, too.
Even driving my new car around has been oddly joyful. My old Jeep finally died, and having a car with a radio and updated technology makes me feel sixteen again.
In summary: life is fun, and I’m here for it.
What strikes me most is realizing how strongly I once believed that fun required alcohol.
What is fun without alcohol?
How do adults relax without alcohol?
What even is a social life without alcohol?
And now?
The opportunity for fun seems to be everywhere.
In conversations.
In ordinary Mondays.
In trying something new.
In feeling clear enough to actually experience your own life while it’s happening.
Giving up alcohol feels less like I removed something from my life and more like a veil was lifted from it.
Clarity.
Curiosity.
Capacity.
What a gift.