When I quit alcohol back in 2014, I was crawling out of a 5 day binge. I had been drinking constantly, day and night had blurred into one. I hadn’t been into work, I was alone in my house, drinking to blackout, waking up and drinking again.
I knew this couldn’t go on and that I had to quit. I’m often asked what my thought process was at that time. The honest answer is that I could scarcely string together a coherent thought together, but the one thing I did know was that I could not go on like this. Come what may, through good times and bad, I could never drink again. That was a Saturday. On the Monday I had to go to Cardiff with work. I was on the train still feeling awful and I saw out the window a little country pub nestled in the countryside.
It was like getting a jab to the solar plexus when you aren’t ready for it.
I immediately imagined the inside of it, cosy and warm. Getting a pint and sitting on a sofa and letting all my worries dissolve away.
All the doubts started. How could I never drink again? What about holidays and Christmas and birthdays and weddings, difficult days and happy day and boring days? Seeing friends and travelling, brightly lit bars and hotels, flutes of champagne, cocktails and cold beers and fine wines. Dive bars in strange cities where all you have in common with your fellow man is the desire, the need, to drink. All my resolution to never drink again seemed to just evaporate. It was like holding a handful of dry sand; the harder I held on to it the quicker it seemed to slip through my fingers.
When you quit any drug, be it nicotine or alcohol, you start of with a firm resolution to quit, but then the doubts start to creep in. Look at the picture of the maze. You are the mouse, the piece of cheese is the freedom from your addiction, and the walls to the maze are all the doubts and uncertainties, the cravings, the reasons you might want to go back to your drug of choice. The walls are the ‘now is not a good time to quit’, ‘just this once’, ‘you’ve got to have some pleasure in life’. The walls are those idyllic situations that you can’t quite imagine going through without a drink or a cigarette or a vape. They are having a tough day ahead and feeling like you just need something to get you through it. Those walls are when you are utterly dejected and miserable and need something, anything, to just take the edge off things.
One of the things I struggled with when I returned from my tour of Iraq back in 2006 with the Parachute Regiment was the difference in mindset between the military / Parachute Regiment, and the mindset in the civilian world. In the civilian world if you ask someone to do something they may well come back to you and say it cannot be done. They may have many good, valid reasons why it couldn’t be done. It may be perfectly reasonable for them to do this. But in the Parachute Regiment things don’t work that way. If someone gets tasked to do something, it gets done. They may have to wreck vehicles, destroy buildings, or break the rules, but it gets done. It’s the difference in mindset between ‘This objective is going to be achieved no matter what’, to ‘I will try my best but it may be impossible’.
When you quit you are at the start of the maze. The cheese is at the other side of it. You have a choice. You can let those walls dictate your course, to sidetrack you, to delay you, to stop you from reaching your objective. Or you can just bulldoze your way right through them, to refuse to be sidetracked or delayed or distracted by them. Those walls are not real, they are psychological barriers only. But refusing to take a drug is a real, physical thing; and something which you have complete power over. No one and nothing can force you to take a drug; that decision is with you and you alone.
13 responses
Thank you for this post along with all the others you have written recently. Never doubt your impact on those of us that are working on become free of this poison.
Loved the way you used the concept of a maze to get your point across! Is it possible to actually be afraid of the thought of what being completely sober will feel like?
Awesome
Thank you William. I could not agree with this more:
“ No one and nothing can force you to take a drug; that decision is with you and you alone.”
And you have to be absolutely ready to change your life. If you’re not ready to change, change will not happen. Circumstances and people cannot force you to self-destruct —only you can do that. About two years ago, I was so ready to change —to completely stop drinking—and I did. And I remain committed to being a non-drinker. It’s now easy because my beliefs about how alcohol benefited me in any way have changed. So the desire for it is gone. This Decision to change my lifestyle was one of the best decisions I have ever made!
After that 5 day binge was that your last drink or did you go back?
Great post, William and thanks also for the 8-day series
So well analysed William. Exactly how it is. Helps change the mindset. Thank you for all your work and support.
So true and love the maze analogy to demonstrate this thank you
Love your style of thinking and writing. Very motivating.
Insightful article! It explains how the solid core of certainty needed to give up a socially condoned anaesthetic came to be marbled throughout your great book Alcohol Explained. I’ll always be grateful to you William, for sharing your insights so clearly and truthfully in your book, without muddying the learning with personal stories about your own experience. Now I see now how your unique approach is not just coloured by your legal training, but the grit you carry from Service. When I started reading Alcohol Explained in 2017 I was simply curious about the link between drink and tiredness; motivated to feel more rested in my middle age and to have more energy to play with my young son. After finishing it however, I knew that I would never drink again. I felt lied to, decieved, tricked and angry that the culture that had bourne me up and into family life had been lying about something which, until I read Alcohol Explained, I truly believed was a net good thing. I also felt a certainty that I could do whatever it takes because I had learned how it worked. As you predict, an infinity of reasons continually entered my mind to counter my decision, even years after. They ranged from from the trivial (How will I ever enjoy a good steak without wine?) to the serious (what if not drinking undermines my relationships and even my marriage?). But armed with a new knowledge of exactly how alcohol works, I was able to confidently stick to my decison. Nearly eight years on I can say every aspect of my life that I once feared might suffer without alcohol has improved, and continues to improve.
Thank you William. Your work here is so important. God bless you.
That final line is so powerful- and with Christmas around the corner, it was a perfect time for me to read it. Thanks William!
William – this one for me took me back some time – when you received the Mission: you and your team did the estimate (1/3 – 2/3rds rule to allow others time) ran the COAs, and then put the plan in place – robust and flexible ensuring the ‘Main Effort’ and the ‘in order to’ unifying statement. Stayed dry and productive but after over half a year I stopped the AA meetings – wasn’t interested in the shares about feelings, hugs and tokens – just knew I had willpower. I was fit, had read Diet Explained too, was in the gym, off sugar and wheat and eating loads of fruit and vegetables. I had a plan to perform consistently, until there was the odd pint – exactly as you describe. No drama. One glass of good red with that ribeye. And then 2 weeks ago, alone in the house, one glass became a bottle, and then a late walk through the woods to the petrol station – better get 2 two just in case. I caught myself – but it took a good week to taper off and then 5 days of rubbish feeling before finally the brain fog cleared, the heart rate came down along with the blood presssure. The sleep got better as I took the B 5 and 12 plus re-hydrates. These e-mails help – they really do. And whilst you warned about FAB, I got complacent, arrogant even. Now I’m humbled, keen to find a way to stay the course – for the rest of my living days. Back to AA.