So. I did a thing. Kind of a crazy thing.
I quit drinking.
I know. Of all the weird things I’ve done in my life, this one ranks right up there.
Since quitting, I’ve been looking over my shoulder, expecting the sober police to come and grab my arm and forcibly remove me from the Great State of Wisconsin. I even considered sporting a foam Cheesehead to throw them off my trail. I am aware of where I live, after all. Wisconsin has more bars per capita than almost any other state in the nation (Cheeseheads off to you, Montana and North Dakota, for taking the honors there.). My alma mater, UW-Madison, has ranked repeatedly as the top party school in the US. Our largest town is nicknamed Brew City, for Pete’s sake.
I was also afraid that I wouldn’t be considered fun any longer, or that my friends wouldn’t want to hang out with me. So I hid my alcohol abstinence for a bit with an insulated cup of undeterminable contents or a non-committal response to a drink offer, until I remembered one simple, freeing truth – other people aren’t thinking about me. Like, at all. (Plus, I wasn’t that much fun in the first place, and I didn’t have time to hang out with friends anyway. Any spare time I do have is allocated to watching Ted Lasso on my couch. Or maybe I just didn’t have that many friends to begin with. Either way, I do have a ridiculously comfy couch.)
I’m not sure why I stopped drinking. I mean, there was a bad hangover after a girls’ weekend earlier this year. But it certainly wasn’t my first hangover. (I did just tell you that I went to UW-Madison, after all.)
I decided, however, that it would be my last.
That girls’ weekend aside, I wasn’t a particularly heavy drinker in recent years. Not for someone who came of age in Wisconsin and entered motherhood during the height of “mommy wine” culture. Nights out with friends are few and far between in this frenetic stage of my childrearing (read: taxi-driving) life, and my hubby and I only sneak in the sporadic, well-earned date night. I suppose I could have decided to just stick with one drink on the rare occasions I found myself in a bar. However, I realized that even one glass of wine would disrupt my sleep and cause my mind to spiral the next day.
So I don’t think alcohol was necessarily a “problem” for me, yet it was a problem for me. Because anything that makes me feel less than stellar is a problem. I just don’t have time for it. (Granted, I have a bit more time now than I did a couple of months ago, since I also quit something else – namely, my job. But that’s another post for another day.)
Bottom line: It’s been almost five months now, and I’ve found that I haven’t missed drinking. Plus, my anxiety has dissipated, I have started sleeping better, and I have become more focused.
Then, something even better happened a few weeks ago! I started losing weight. Without even trying. Not a ridiculous amount, but enough for me to notice a difference. Now, you may be thinking that perhaps the aforementioned focus, rest and stress reduction should be valued more highly than dropping some lbs., but we aren’t here to evaluate my priorities, folks. Don’t get judge-y on me now.
And I’ve had a great summer, with the aid of neither spiked seltzers nor sauv blanc. I still love a boating day, still go out to eat, and even still attend the occasional party (We already covered my less-than-active social life, so “occasional” is the most one can expect on that front, drinking or no drinking.). My family and friends still enjoy adult beverages, and I enjoy hanging out with them when they do. Because free entertainment.
So you drink your Busch Latte, I’ll sip my Topo Chico, and we will all be friends. As long as you keep your hands off my Topo Chico. That stuff is surprisingly hard to find for a beverage so tasty. Although I’m hearing reports now that Topo Chico may not be good for you, either. Gah! I mean, it’s bottled water. Come on already. If Topo Chico is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
Will I drink alcohol again? Oh, I don’t know. Life is long, and chances are probably good. But right now I’m grateful for the changes that abstaining has brought to my weight, er, I mean…to my overall health and well-being. So please don’t drive me out of Wisconsin. I still like cheese curds. I can even pronounce Weyauwega. And Giannis. (I used to pronounce Aaron Rodgers just fine, too, but that one is sticking in my throat a little these days.) I’m still a Wisconsin girl, just with a lower BAC than most.