On the normal, the mundane, the undisturbed rhythms of predictable days.
Winter’s hold is starting to weaken. Every morning a little lighter, every evening a little longer, and the birds chirping with renewed cheer and vigor. That intangible fog permeating the perception of our days is slowly lifting and a certain vitality is rushing back to our bodies and minds. The days shine brighter and spring seems to be on the move.
Alcohol has weakened its hold on my habits and routines – incremental changes here and there paired with more fundamental developments over time. Back when I was still drinking (all of eight weeks ago), my single biggest problem was the disruptive nature of alcohol. This is probably a surprise to no one, as most people have had to deal with a hangover at least once in their life. God knows I’ve been ocean deep in mine.
At some point the consequences of heavy drinking started weighing on me preemptively. When going out, I would cancel all my plans the day after, knowing well beforehand I’d be worth nothing when waking up. This soon came to a point where if going out for dinner on a Wednesday night, I would postpone my Thursday morning workout, reschedule any important meetings, and most likely write off the rest of the week while I was at it. I simply wouldn’t be in a state to handle it. Alcohol weakened not only my body but also my resolve, discipline, and any obligations I felt for everyday life or a larger sense of purpose.
This became a vicious cycle – me lacking the discipline to take my life seriously, which put me in a severe depressive mood. It’s not light, the burden of being a millennial who hasn’t quite caught up to the ideal of himself he was promised. Drinking helped carry the weight, but intensified the spiral downwards, resulting in a bodily and mental ache that disengaged me even further from my own sense of urgency.
Every now and then a brief hint of clear-sightedness would emerge. The cycle would break, and I’d come up for air, realizing I was throwing so much time and life away. Reversing fully, I’d now immerse myself in self-improvement systems and practices, overextending my productivity to catch up on lost time. This would inevitably leave me exhausted only a few weeks later. All this hard work and effort made me crave a little night off. So I’d go out, get drunk and wake up the next morning to find myself right back on the other side of the spectrum. This went on for so many years, bouncing back and forth to either end of a very unbalanced life, wearing myself out in the process, reinforcing my melancholy and depression.
Although I still worry and struggle with some aspects of this, I’ve removed alcohol from the equation, which has proved remarkably effective. There is no continual interference anymore. At no point do I worry about having to cancel plans when going out the night before, or endure the feeling of letting myself down for not living up to a perceived potential. Motivation and discipline are still a challenge in many areas of life, but this struggle is a completely different and far more manageable beast when alcohol is not involved.
Last Friday, having dinner with friends but no alcohol, I reaped the benefits immediately next morning, as I could get up early and play a volleyball game, with no ramifications from the night before. This evening I am going out with a few other friends, but still getting up tomorrow morning to work out, take care of myself and my commitments throughout the rest of the day. In the last two months, I haven’t lost a single day to alcohol, and although I’m not exactly ‘crushing life’ or punching through the roof, the momentum I’m building in my discipline and habits is uninterrupted and gaining. There are still setbacks, like a poor night’s sleep or a heavy day at work, but in the grander scheme, these barely put a dent in my routines, whereas alcohol would have left them in ruins.
Every day now feels, in the best way possible, like the day before. Normal. Undisturbed. Open and filled with more effort and care than I’ve managed to put into my life for a long time, and this brings me great comfort. I treasure it deeply. Who knew that Groundhog Day could be so fulfilling for the soul?