My first week off alcohol: out with the wine, in with the self-help books
My social experiment has provoked some strong reactions, and no shortage of recommended reading
Last week in The Irish Times I began a minor social experiment. I swore off drink for a month. If all goes according to plan this will be the longest period of my adult life without alcohol.
The reaction to that article was strong. This demonstrates to me that wherever you’ve got a lot of people drinking you will also have a lot of people worried about their drinking.
People haven’t even been saying hello to me, they’ve just been shouting, “How could you do this to me?” or, “Gin and tonic!” (Except for Drinking Friend, who shouted, “Never have your photo taken from such a low angle again.” No wonder I love her the best.)
- The sobriety diaries
- The Sobriety Diaries – week two: ‘I arrive in Donegal gumming for a drink’
- The Sobriety Diaries – week three: ‘I’m not counting the days until I start drinking again’
- The Sobriety Diaries: What I learned in one month without alcohol
- Alcohol and me
Other people have started telling me they haven’t had a drink in a year; or perhaps that they’ve been drinking two bottles of wine a day for a year.
The Soberistas website, mentioned in the article, reported a surge in new members last weekend, most of them Irish.
And there was a significant online response from Irish Times readers. I have read every one of those contributions, and we plan to print a selection of them next week.
Thank you for taking the time to write your stories of giving up alcohol, resolving never to give up alcohol, and wishing that you could give up alcohol.
A country of big drinkers has a lot to say about drinking. The old binary system, under which you are either an alcoholic or not, appears to be softening: it has to soften because drinkers and drinking are more complicated than that.
For me the week was marred not by being alcohol-free but by the death of a friend. Which puts being forced to drink mineral water into perspective.
On Friday I had a bit of an, er, intense time at work and was crushed when I remembered that I could not look forward to my first glass of wine of the weekend at 6pm. (It is often earlier.) I had to eat industrial quantities of Easter egg instead, two-fisted, to assuage the stress. Dignity, always dignity.
I went out as usual but drank a litre of mineral water. Nobody bothers putting a slice of lemon in a mineral water – it is a nondrink, so you get nonservice. Then home to watch Gogglebox.
On Saturday most of my drinking friends were too hungover to talk, but they selflessly sent texts. One took me to the off-licence to buy some nonalcoholic beer. So kind.
The nice nonalcoholic beer we wanted – Baltika – was not in stock, so we got a beer the woman in the off-licence identified as low in alcohol. Let’s call it Schleswig-Holstein.
Within an hour a nondrinking friend had read the label on Schleswig-Holstein, found that it was 4.6 per cent (more than Heineken or Bulmers cider) and banished it to the back shed. This made me think of Harry Enfield’s 1950s sketch: “Women know your limits!” Drink sellers, know your low alcohol beers, please!