Thoughts On A Year (And Then Some) Without A Drop Of Alcohol

Welp, I did it. I successfully went 365 days without imbibing.

Actually, make that 375. Because as I write this, I’m still on the fence about what my relationship with alcohol will look like in the future. I’m essentially in substance use purgatory until that becomes clearer to me.

My hopes for this post are to not only share my experience but to help make some sense of it all.

Why I Went Alcohol Free (AF) In 2025

I’ve never been an everyday drinker. In fact, I’ve always preferred to save it for the weekend or a special meal with friends during the week. However, over time, I found that those three glasses of wine on Friday left me moody and blue on Saturday, which led me to drink maybe five glasses of wine and a cocktail that evening. By Sunday, I would find myself in a sad stupor, dreading the week ahead and holding out for the weekend, when I could have my next drink.

If you’ve ever read This Naked Mind, you understand this is the vicious cycle that alcohol creates, as it dims all other sources of dopamine in its favor until it becomes the ultimate reward, leaving everything else to pale in comparison.

So, fast forward to the 2024 holidays. One morning, after too much sugar, booze, and other various refined carbs the evening before, I asked my partner if he wanted to do Dry January or go three months like we had done earlier that year. He obliged, but after a pause and some thought, I upped the ante: What if we go the whole year?

As soon as I asked, I had this sudden pang of “there’s no way we could do that.” I thought he’d balk at the idea, but he agreed. I have to be honest, I was a little bummed he didn’t fight me on it. But alas, the plan was set in stone. I did feel like absolute garbage at the moment, so this was probably for the best.

Months 1–3: The LFG!!! Start

After getting over my New Year’s COVID episode, I did everything I could to get myself excited about the year ahead. What could I accomplish? How good could I feel? Would this fix my unexplained mental and physical ailments? I became genuinely curious about what my brain, body, and entire being would be like without this substance that I regularly used (and sometimes abused) over the last 20 years.

I listened to books about quitting and the harmful effects of alcohol for the confirmation bias I needed at the time. I meditated each morning, got on a good sleep schedule, started having super productive workouts, and even implemented sauna sessions for a detox boost. After a couple of weeks of grieving what felt like the end of a relationship, I felt great. I had more energy, my emotional highs and lows leveled out, I was more focused, and I felt more present in daily life.

I went to Ireland and solo explored, sipping NAs and the most delicious coffee as I made my way through the south. I even went to the Guinness Factory to learn all about the beer-making process and the evolution of the brand before enjoying an AF draught at the end of the tour. I remember being so impressed with how much I got to see in my short time there since I woke up refreshed each morning and did not need to sleep off even a minor hangover.

Months 3–9: The Boring (In A Good Way) Middle

I don’t know about anyone else, but the positives in terms of my mental health sort of peaked in the first twelve weeks. This is not a bad thing at all; in fact, it means that the benefits can be gleaned fairly quickly for those who quit or decide to take a break. Still, having done three months AF before, I think I was expecting more during this phase.

Instead, it was sort of business as usual. I felt pretty comfortable in my sobriety. I think I had come to terms with the fact that it was off the table, so I danced at weddings, chummed it up at social gatherings, and traveled without abandon.

Interesting tidbit: without alcohol to keep me artificially energized late into the night, I left events to get to bed early, guilting myself on the way out the door for being lame and old. The previous year, I would have applauded myself for practicing such self-care. Funny how all of that works. This would become a theme, which I’ll delve further into at the end of this post.

Fall (aka bonus summer, since we had sun and warmth up until the first snow) rolled around, and it was much of the same. Plenty of time outdoors, early nights, cards with Carmen. It was around this point that I started exploring inner work, specifically around trauma and nervous system healing. I attended a women’s retreat focused on rewilding with nature, implemented breathwork, and explored coaching in lieu of traditional therapy.

Months 10–12: The Anxiety Cresc-end-o

As it always does, that extended summer eventually came to a jarring halt as CLE winter descended upon us in one fell swoop. Gusty snowstorms and icy rain arrived in early November, and with them, of course, the debilitating gray we experience this time of year. Did you know that this time of year is called “cloud time,” since nearly 75% of the days are sunless? There’s only so much my 10,000-lux SAD lamp can do here.

I think less time outdoors, declining vitamin D, and—oh, did I mention I lost my job?—contributed to my cravings. Let me clarify: I did not want to get drunk to numb myself out or anything. I think I was just bored and wanted a little mood booster.

I also started to dig deeper into some of my trauma work at this time. They say this gets easier, but I definitely felt the overwhelming, “Oh shit, this is gonna be hard, and I have a lot of baggage to sift through.” That drink was sounding even more appealing. Maybe I really did want to numb?

Between the boredom, the self-deprecation of not having a job, holiday gatherings where booze abounded, and the feeling that I needed to decide whether or not I ever wanted to drink again, things felt heavy.

I got extremely nervous at social events, going back and forth in my head, asking myself if I wanted this sober life forever. That person over there has their shit together and drinks occasionally…that means I can too. But even one drink would compromise my sleep and dull the emotions I am trying to process fully.

It was extremely overwhelming to be around people drinking at this point. It was a constant reminder of what I was missing out on and the clear benefits of an AF lifestyle all at once. Think devil and angel on each shoulder—but it’s a glass of wine on one and a cup of antioxidant-packed tea on the other, with me caught in the middle.

Regardless of how I felt about it, the end of the year came. And as it went, I decided to keep the sobriety thing going for a few reasons. First, my partner decided to as well, as he’s curious about the benefits beyond a year. Second, I clearly have some more processing to do on this and don’t want to make any rash decisions. I am going to wait for some calm and clarity to come.

And finally, like other aspects of my life, I want to stop putting myself in a box. I don’t want to identify as sober or not sober, drinker or non-drinker. I want to be a person who is known for being kind, adventurous, etc. Whether or not I enjoy a drink from time to time needs to become small (almost non-existent) potatoes in my overall identity. I wish I were there, but I am not.

Anywho, I plan to write more about this topic as things unfold, particularly something that covers evidence-backed benefits of a life without alcohol and the changes (and challenges) that sober-curious folks can expect when they start the journey. However, I promise this blog will also be about other things, like my self-healing progress, travel, and the little musings that keep me up at night—even though I’d prefer they didn’t, since my sleep is oh-so important right now 😉