Just about five years ago, I decided to end a long and tumultuous relationship—not with a person, but with alcohol. It was an on-again, off-again struggle that many could label as typical, yet it was profoundly personal for me. This wasn’t just about giving up a substance; it was about redefining my life.
My Relationship with Alcohol
Alcohol was more than just a drink for me; it was a companion through the toughest of times. It was there during moments of celebration and despair, offering comfort and a false sense of security. At parties, it was my social lubricant. At home, a nightly glass of wine became my reward—a “victory lap” after enduring the day’s challenges. It was my ritual, my relief.
However, what started as a casual glass of wine gradually became a necessity. One glass turned into two, two into three, and soon enough, an entire bottle became part of my daily routine. I justified this increase as a need to feel the familiar buzz, a way to manage the stress of parenting young children. It felt normal, encouraged even by society’s lighthearted memes about wine and motherhood. But deep down, a nagging feeling persisted—was this becoming too much?
The Turning Point
It was a Memorial Day gathering that pushed me to confront my reality. As the day ended and I found myself searching the internet for signs of alcoholism, the truth became harder to ignore. The articles echoed a chilling sentiment: if you’re questioning your relationship with alcohol, you likely already know the answer.
The following day, I confided in my husband, who was surprised but supportive. Our conversation led me to seek professional counseling, where I initially tried setting boundaries around my drinking. These boundaries were continually broken, underscoring a painful truth—I was unable to control my intake once I started.
Breaking Free
Determined to regain control, I imposed stricter limits: only one glass of wine per month. Yet, even this proved too lenient for my escalating dependency. Every social occasion became a loophole to circumvent these self-imposed rules. It was clear that moderation wasn’t an option for me; total abstinence was necessary.
My therapist posed a question that struck a nerve: “What will happen when real tragedy strikes? How will your dependency on alcohol escalate then?” It was a perspective I hadn’t fully considered, and it terrified me.
Realizing the potential dangers of continuing down this path, I made a definitive choice to break up with alcohol. I was done letting it control and consume my life.
Life After Alcohol
This decision marked the beginning of a new chapter. The journey hasn’t been easy, and navigating social situations without alcohol has been challenging, but the rewards have been immense. I’m truly present in my life, experiencing the full spectrum of emotions without the numbing effect of alcohol. I’ve discovered healthier ways to cope with stress and relax, and my relationships with my family and friends have deepened.
Perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned to turn to God rather than a bottle. My faith has strengthened, and I’ve found true comfort and safety in my spirituality, not in temporary escapes.
Conclusion
My story is not unique, nor is it the most dramatic depiction of alcohol dependence. Yet, it reflects a common struggle many face in a culture that often glorifies alcohol consumption while ignoring its potential pitfalls. For anyone questioning their relationship with alcohol, know that you’re not alone, and it’s okay to seek help.
Breaking up with alcohol has allowed me to wake up to the joys, pains, and realities of life, and I’ve never felt more alive. I’ve replaced my evening glass of wine with a prayer for strength and union with God, finding peace in His presence rather than the bottom of a bottle.
