No More Wine, Thanks

I originally wrote this piece for Perspective: The Blog. It’s a vulnerable share about my relationship with alcohol. Spoiler, it’s a complicated one that is forever changing. And after speaking to a few people recently, it seems I’m not the only one.

I love wine but wine has decided it no longer loves me.

In fact, just one glass can see me being violently sick within a few hours. I get aches in my neck and pain across my face followed by a crippling migraine thrown in for good measure. My body’s way of telling me something, perhaps.

Alcohol is something that was present in my life from a young age. My parents would have wine with dinner, my grandfather favoured a whiskey and water after work and my grandma a vodka laced tonic or tomato juice. A bottle of wine almost always served with dinner and Champagne brought out to toast or celebrate whenever the occasion arose.

My 20’s were soaked in alcohol, social drinks after work, night’s out on the weekend. My boyfriend and I would often reach for a few glasses of something in the evening, be it wine, beer, or gin. Yet, I always saw alcohol as a reward and less as a fix for feeling low. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew that to be a dangerous path. There was a period of time in my teens where my Dad had some trouble with alcohol, using it as an emotional crutch. So, while I could absolutely be known to ‘wind down’ with a glass of something at the end of the day, it wasn’t ever used to take me to, or pull me from, some place dark.

But for celebrations, it felt like alcohol was expected. You ‘have’ to have a drink, it’s so and so’s birthday, blah blah has gotten engaged, hey… it’s the last day at work. The list goes on, you fill in the blanks.

There was always an excuse, and I was always happy to dabble. So why has my body now suddenly started to reject the stuff?

I initially sought guidance from my GP. Her advice? ‘Just stop drinking’. That didn’t sound appealing. It also didn’t give me any indication of why my body had suddenly developed the aversion. I spoke to friends and family. I amped up my Google search. The most common answer pertained to a possible allergy to certain preservatives, used in the making of wine most commonly. So, I tried sticking to organic and preservative-free wine. I would take a sip and wonder if I was about to spend another evening with my head down the toilet. By my count, 50/50 chance.

There were days when I managed a few G&T’s and feel great. Other days I would end up with my head down the toilet being violently sick. I continued to experiment, all the while looking to find the right combination that would enable me to keep drinking alcohol, even it to just keep up appearances. I tried only drinking when I was super hydrated and full of food. Sometimes it helped, other times I would be right back to the toilet. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

The trial and error became exhausting and ultimately the risk wasn’t worth the reward. The anxiety I felt as I took each sip, wondering how my body would react, really started to affect my mood. I’d have a drink and feel a heavy shadow fall over me as I waited to see how it would make me feel. Some nights I would stick with one or two and feel fine, but I increasingly began asking myself, is it worth it? What am I really missing out on?

So, I stopped drinking.

Occasionally I have something on a special occasion but only if I really feel like it, never because social pressure deems I ’should’. Initially, those boozy nights out started to end much earlier. Turns out it’s not that fun being around friends who are too drunk to hold down a conversation. That part was hard at first, feeling like I was on the outside of something. But I quickly realised who my true friends were. Eventually, I was able to relax, knowing that I wasn’t going to suddenly feel ill and that I could still have fun, without relying on alcohol to get me there. 

Ultimately my body has made the decision for me. I’ve spent more and more time listing and tuning into what my body is telling me it needs. It’s got pretty good at making itself heard. It’s been an unlearning process, changing old habits and replacing them with more conscious decisions that feel right and not getting dragged into what feels ‘normal’ for everyone else – even if I’m met with a million questions.

Don’t get me wrong, I still drink from time to time. But I’m far more conscious about why, when and what. It no longer bothers me when people ask me why I’m not having drinking. Honestly, I think my why is my greatest saviour. It’s the right intentions that matter. I have found putting positive energy into my actions yields better results. 

The peer pressure is real, but my body has made it very clear that she has no time for that. And with that, I have found some peace.