We’ve all seen the funny videos of when the squirrel eats a fermented fruit and gets instantly hammered. This is an experimental take on that. Last week (yes, while indulging in some beverages), I came up with an idea with a friend. No drinking for 1 week. Truth be told, I didn’t think I’d make it. This isn’t a “road to sobriety” story, nor is it heralding a “look at me” moment. Just observations about my personal experiment to see what I noticed and what I felt.
Day 1: Work was work, nothing too off the wall, nothing major really happened out of the ordinary. But about halfway through the day, the first thought came to mind, “I can’t wait to have a beer after work and decompress from today.” Noticing my crutch was a pretty obvious sign. This was made worse in that it was my weekend for the saturday shift. Another “I really want a drink to relax before this next shift” moment. Queue the dinging bell, that is: “You have a crutch.” As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t fail my own experiment less than 24 hours in. I wouldn’t let myself do that. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t sleep all that much or that well this night.
Day 2: Early Sat wake up, busted sleep and zero motivation other than a personal need to excel in what I know I can despite any adversity. I tend to make myself prove everything and everyone wrong, including myself; based on the signs I saw on day 1. My mind changed from “just enjoy your beverages and relax” to “YOU say you need this, but do YOU?” I made it through that shift, still a little out of it, still tired, still tempting myself with every opening of the ‘fridge, passing by the house bar, and noticing the extra case of beverages in the garage while taking the dog out. But headstrong as ever, I didn’t relent and made it through.
Day 3: Sunday, nothing scheduled, nothing planned. Should be easy, right? Have you heard about how smokers tend to snack or have toothpicks or something that mimics the behavior they are used to? I guess I had a similar experience. I noticed I got “fidgety” and couldn’t stay still. I could sit and have my mind occupied (phone, tv, book, computer, etc.), but I was either hungry all the time or was constantly drinking something. Water, gatorade, tea, anything just to keep moving in some facet. This turned to a need to be productive, keep my mind off the realization; or just keep moving. Which of these I am not sure, but basically got 80% of the house cleaned. I suppose that is a bonus of whatever anxiety I’m trying to suppress. Still staying strong. Yet another night of not great sleep.
Day 4: Early wake up to go to the office. I feel sore, all over. I figure it is a byproduct of the house cleaning I did, but I can’t shake the feeling that it shouldn’t be this noticeable. Either way, make it through the day relatively uneventfully, at least had work to keep me moving and focused. Thankfully, there is no headache; and I get through the day. Manage to ignore any further temptation that night and fall asleep for a few hours. Progress is progress. I chalk the day up as a win and carry on.
Day 5: Sleep was better than the previous few days; but not a great quantity of it. Either way, another office day before an even longer night tracking the team. Uneventful work day, followed by what I can only describe as a painful mental test. I’m now fighting a headache and have a distinct lack of motivation for much of anything. One of those alone throws my mood off, but both? I didn’t even feel like me. I felt like I was watching things go by; and all I wanted to do was be anywhere but there. I played lackluster but won, so that’s cool. I am frustrated with myself for being unable to enjoy what is normally my greatest hobby and passion. Knowing full well that I phoned it in and just went through motions, I mentally beat myself up. I survived another day and am very thankful for that. Another night of pretty awful sleep, I hadn’t given in and didn’t plan on doing so. Another victory day.
Day 6: Another day of work ahead; research to be done and ideas to get through. Manage well enough. A new level reached in that I was able to go to the bar last night and stay strong with the no drinking. With this experience in hand, I make it through the evening fairly easily. It’s become easier and easier not to even notice the beer in the fridge or the bar outside the kitchen. Still nagging soreness and headache phantom pains, but I stay strong. I end up sleeping a few hours after work due to the lack of good sleep catching up to me. I wake up roughly dinner time, out of it, but slowing coming around to realize that I’m hungry again. Make some food, eat, and basically start crashing as soon as I take care of the dishes and sit back down. Realizing I’ve made it this far and haven’t really had the urge to crack a beer or have a whiskey, I’m pretty happy with my state of mind, despite the body pain. I let that carry me off to meet the wizard for the night.
Day 7: I wake up more tired than I had been in the last week. Just as if not more sore than the previous few days. What a joy that makes the morning. Thankfully, my prescription got refilled; so I have the motivation to leave the house. Taking some time for my mental well-being, I hit the bookstores after Rx pickup. A few books later, I’m back home waiting for the evenings matches. Home stretch now, so it seems. Can’t shake this tense feeling in my muscles, but I am surviving. Manage to squeak out another win, much less of the “going through the motions” feeling. Home at a reasonable hour for once, eat food, and collect my thoughts to type this out. I made it. 0000 Friday. Full 7 days, midnight Friday to the following Friday midnight. I have a celebratory whiskey and reflect on it all for myself and potentially help someone still reading.
Results:
1. I can do this and set my mind to something, nothing riding on it but my own pride for myself.
2. I can stay away from the crutch, and I can focus on the here and now without needing my senses dulled to cope.
3. It feels good to have a goal and accomplish it. Not to gain or win something, earned yes but no “reward” to speak of. I didn’t give myself a cookie, didn’t go overboard when that goal line hit, just taking solace in the fact I can survive, no drinking and reflecting on my progress as a person.
I take this as a new option of self-healing. Not sure when I will once again go for a week (or more) stretch and re-run this experiment but to have “done it once” I am sure I can do it again as long as I have the right mind set. I did get a little lost on the way, but after the fog cleared somewhat, I was able to get back to a happy center and recognize some trees. Maybe my own hidden acrons that I’m searching for have created some saplings in this area; and I can bed down for a while here in safety. Hopefully, I can make a fluffy bed like my pup does with all the blankets (even if he has around 6 beds in this house) and calmly return to my search for my acorns and keep the happy center I’m currently enjoying.
Thank you all for reading. It really does help to get these things off my chest. If this helps someone out there to keep moving forward, please keep tabs on these pages for more. I know I’m not the most consistent of authors (if I even qualify as that), but I do try to make what I do post mean something.
-LostAcorns