Your new life is going to cost you your old one*
* by Brianna Wiest
These are the first words of an essay by the wonderful Brianna Wiest that I have been carrying around with me for the past week like a talisman.
Here is the rest:
"Your new life is going to cost you your old one.
It's going to cost you your comfort zone and your sense of direction.
It's going to cost you relationships and friends.
It's going to cost you being liked and understood.
It doesn't matter.
The people who are meant for you are going to meet you on the other side. You're going to build a new comfort zone around the things that actually move you forward. Instead of being liked, you're going to be loved. Instead of being understood, you're going to be seen.
All you're going to lose is what was built for a person you no longer are."~ The Mountain is You
Ever since I quit drinking on December 31, 2021 I've been undergoing a transformation. I wrote about what the first 100 days have been here, because to be honest, it was harder than I thought it would be. Not physically, thankfully - I was never physically addicted to alcohol. But wine had been my friend and my crutch for many years, and at first I missed it terribly. I wanted it when I had something to celebrate, commiserate, when it was the weekend, the middle of the week, at the end of the day and at lunchtime when I had a day off. I craved alcohol when I was bored, happy, unhappy, when I was alone and when I was with people.
No evening was complete without a glass of wine welded to my hand, and picturing vacations, holidays, good news or bad without alcohol was unthinkable.
Now that I'm almost 9 months into my new alcohol-free (AF) lifestyle the cravings are 99% gone. I've experienced many firsts without alcohol: my first party, first vacation, first time hosting friends and family, celebrating a new position without champagne. Every time you do it it gets easier, because the pathways in your brain that associate all these things with booze slowly grow over with weeds the longer they are not used. New pathways are formed instead, so that these days I'm looking forward to drinks I never had much time for in the past: homemade lemonade, watermelon juice, iced tea, AF Corona, bubly sparkling water, peppermint tea, and of course my beloved coffee.
The list of benefits is satisfyingly long: my anxiety has decreased significantly, I've become a way faster and more prolific writer, the sleep is out of this world amazing (seriously, quitting booze is worth it just for the quality of sleep alone), my negative self-talk is almost non-existent, and I no longer wake up at 2 am with regret and self-hatred. I'm told that not everybody suffers from that, but for me it was inextricably linked with drinking: if I drank, like clockwork I would wake up at 2 in the morning riddled with despair, remorse and severe self-hatred. I'm assuming this somewhat dramatic side-effect is connected to my mental illness, and let me tell you, it takes the fun out of it. Not having those dark, hopeless nights anymore is one of the greatest gifts of my new life.
Physically I've noticed that my skin is looking luminous, I have way more good hair days than bad, and Rich swears that my cellulite has gotten much better (I doubt it, but then again I don't look at my ass as much as he does 😉).
But there are a few consequences of my lifestyle change that I'm struggling with. I know that they will be positive in the long run, but in the short run they're uncomfortable, painful and lonely.
There is a noticeable shift in a few of my relationships. To put it blandly: I can't stand a couple of my friends now that I'm sober. Turns out, the only thing we had in common was drinking together, and now that I stick to my delightful assortment of AF drinks I have difficulties tolerating them. While I realize that this is a clear indication that we were never true friends to begin with and that it's about time I found that out, it's still sad. My husband still hangs out (and drinks) with them, and I'm left with two options: either I suck it up and come along (which is never much fun for me), or I stay home alone.
Do I feel left out? Yes.
Do I know that any friendship that requires a mind-numbing agent as the glue that keeps it going is not a healthy friendship? Also yes.
Is it hard? Double-yes.
And that's not the only drastic change that's come with my new life. The thing about drinking is that you don't properly deal with your feelings, problems and realities of your life. That's the whole point of it for many of us: we want to escape the harsh reality of our life and numb everything out nicely.
Trouble at work? Wine about it.
Something isn't right in your relationship? After two or three drinks you won't worry about it anymore.
Problems with someone? Ignore them by drowning them out.
Once you stop running away from your problems you have to deal with them, and it's uncomfortable as hell. Again, I know that this is a positive, healthy, and very important step towards a positive, healthy and happy life. But man does it suck as you have to go through it.
That's why I keep quietly chanting Brianna Wiest's words to myself: "Your new life is going to cost you your old one. All you're going to lose is what was built for a person you no longer are."
My new life has been manifesting all year. There are changes we have been working on that will hopefully start to happen soon, and I'll share more about that in an upcoming newsletter.
But for now I'm still in the agonizing in-between stage: waiting, hoping, biding my time, trying to learn to be patient and to grow and evolve and transition from my old to my new life. Nothing big is happening overnight, and accepting that is the biggest lesson of this year for me.
So I whisper to myself: "My new life is going to cost me my old one. And it will be so worth it."
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Vol. 78