"You're not going to change him." - Charles
For decades, alcohol was my co-pilot. It wasn't just something I enjoyed; it was practically woven into the fabric of my identity, especially amongst my closest friends. I was the "funny one," the life of the party. Looking back, I realize I was playing a role: the Drunk Clown. And honestly? I was good at it. I reveled in the laughter, the camaraderie, the feeling of being the center of attention. But beneath the surface, a nagging question lingered: was that all I was?
My recent journey toward sobriety—I have been nearly 5 months
alcohol free (144 days but whose counting) – not a drop, to be honest—it started with a stark realization, a
post-Nebraska reckoning. The trip itself, a long-planned boys' getaway with my
best friends—guys I've known for 18 years—was…well, let's just say it wasn't my
finest hour but it was pretty typical. These are my drinking buddies.
Our shared history is practically marinated in hops and barley.
Think about it: we've done everything together, from all
night running races fueled by pre/during/post race beers to the infamous Beer
Mile (don't judge – I’m a champion). We even brewed our own concoctions in a
club we hilariously named Ridicule Brewing – where we had lots of 4th
placed beers. Alcohol was the constant,
the glue, the punchline. It was us. It was me.
So, Nebraska was…predictable. I slept in my clothes on a
couch every night. I missed dinner the first night because I was passed out
drunk. I was the Drunk Clown, performing my usual routine. The laughter was
there – I’ll always have a thing for Ms. Pacman, but this time, it felt
different. I had had enough.
The trip, although it was a fun escape and I wouldn’t change
anything, became a glaring reflection of my relationship with alcohol. It was a bigger part of my life than I wanted to admit. And honestly, I
was tired. Tired of the hangovers, the blackouts, the feeling of constantly
needing to perform / escape.
The biggest takeaway from Nebraska? It wasn't the
camaraderie or the laughter. It was the shame. The realization that I was
relying on alcohol to be someone I wasn't, to mask insecurities and avoid real
connection.
So, two weeks after the Nebraska trip, I woke up (actually,
I had been switching to NA beers several weeks prior to the trip – the summer
had been filled with mild debauchery) and decided enough was enough. I was done
being the Drunk Clown. I was done with the hangovers and the missed dinners and
the feeling of being a caricature of myself.
So, I have up and pulled a Keith. I still have questions.
What will future gatherings look like? Will the dynamic shift permanently? Will
I still be funny (and more importantly, will I still be myself) without
the crutch of alcohol? I don’t have any
plans on dancing with the girls on Frenchman Street. I think this is
permanent.
Since quitting alcohol my blood pressure has returned to
normal. My cholesterol has returned to
normal. My baseline happiness has
(mostly) returned to normal. I remember
everything, for better or worse. My
weight has… well, stayed the same – I
still need to drop a few pounds.
I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this: I’m not
the Drunk Clown anymore. I’m something…else. Something more authentic, more
present. I have learned that drinking
did not make me more interesting, it made others more interesting. I’m still pretty darn funny but fewer bodily
fluids hit the floor now.
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