Today is February 1^st and I have successfully completed Dry January. This is not a humble brag but more of a humbling confession. You see, I found Dry January to be a sobering experience, but not in the way you might think. Yes, I didn’t drink alcohol for 31 days, but I did reflect a lot on drinking and what a luxury it is that I can participate in this social experiment without any serious consequences – except for a few grouchy moments. Okay, maybe a handful of grouchy moments. My sober friends, the ones who have been in recovery for many years aren’t afforded this option. Dry January is not a month and done for them and I’ve been wondering if they spent January rolling their eyes at the onslaught of memes and social media posts from temporarily sober braggarts.

Now stop rolling your eyes. I’m not here to proselytize about the virtues of not drinking – for one lousy month – and I am very much looking forward to a glass of red wine this weekend. My dear wife joked that she thought I might have a mimosa for breakfast today. It’s funny, I’m really not in a hurry to break my alcohol fast. I identify as a social drinker, but I do hesitate a bit when filling out that assessment at the doctor’s office – How often do you have a drink containing alcohol? No one wants to be judged, right? And besides, it’s like your weight on your driver’s license – you can be creative.

Like many folks, I decided to attempt Dry January as a reset after the debauchery of the holidays. And to be honest, my drinking frequency had increased during the pandemic and this seemed like a good time to try to return to a more moderate normal. I long ago gave up New Year’s resolutions – they have such a high failure rate and I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. I transitioned to intentions years ago – besides, it’s a kinder, gentler word. And since Dry January only involved a very limited time, I thought I’d give it a shot, pardon the pun. Honestly, the first several days were surprisingly easy – I didn’t even think about drinking. Not thinking about the two boxes of Thin Mints in the freezer was a lot harder. And then I went to a dinner party – my first real test. In preparation, I bought a four pack of Guiness 0 – a non-alcoholic beer. I’m a wine drinker, but I knew I could never tolerate faux wine and the Guiness product promised the same iconic taste as the original brew. Umm, no offense to my Irish mates, but not so much. It looks exactly the same, but that first sip is a real buzz kill. But I was in it to win it and I sipped on my beer while my friends enjoyed some fine wine. The food and conversation were delicious and I didn’t think twice about not drinking.

Note: Drinking non-alcoholic beverages can be a slippery slope for those in recovery – another luxury I had while doing Dry January.

A 2021 survey showed that the average American only lasted 10 days into Dry January and one in ten gave up by January 3^rd. I guess we are a nation of quitters, except when it comes to drinking. This survey also noted the most common “first fail” day was the first Friday and that Fridays in general had nearly twice as many drinkers as any other day of the week. This tracks with me because the hardest day I had was the third Friday night last month. That’s when we had a wicked cold snap. I had made a nice dinner for me and my wife and we were settling in by the fireplace to watch a movie. The only thing missing was a nice glass of red wine. I was craving it – maybe even lusting after it. I wanted that glass of wine, but I remembered that I was three weeks in and highly invested in Dry January by now. I popped open another Guiness 0 and to my surprise, it tasted better than the first one. Still not great, but not bad.

I thought I would sail through the home stretch and the final week or so of this challenge. I was foolish. I forgot that life does indeed come at you fast. The last full week in January, both of my brothers-in-law were hospitalized. My wife’s brother was very ill from complications from his third liver transplant and my sister’s husband had a dicey bout with sepsis from a surgery and ended up in the hospital for a few days. It was a stressful time for my family and I wanted that feeling I get from the first sip of a glass of wine – that gentle hum of relaxation. I really, really wanted a glass of wine. So, I opened the third can of Guiness 0 and guess what? I actually almost liked it. And no, Total Wine did not sponsor this blog post, but if you have any connections, I’m listening.

That week was when I thought about my sober friends a lot – and how they have gotten through years and years of stressful things without having a drink. I’ve always admired these folks and some of them are the most genuine people I know – maybe overcoming great adversity is part of that. I often forget that they are in recovery, but I know they never do. They don’t have that option and I wondered if Dry January made them want to hide some ninnies on social media. So, I reached out to my dear friend Jimmy, who like his darling husband, has been in recovery for many years. Jimmy is a counselor so I should have known that his response would be thoughtful and caring. He told me that as someone who works with people struggling with addiction and recovery every day, he sees Dry January as a good way for folks to experiment with sobriety. He explained that “maybe they have a problem, maybe they don’t, but the experiment could lead to a deeper understanding of their relationship with alcohol. Someone may discover they actually feel better not drinking and make choices based on that new information. At least that’s my hope.” Jimmy is nicer than me and I’m so glad he’s using his many gifts as a counselor these days.

Our conversation made me contemplate how I felt not drinking. I think maybe I didn’t want to admit that I did feel better – that I slept more soundly and had more energy in the morning. I can’t give you any empirical data to support this, I can just tell you how I felt. It’s like that feeling you get in early September after weeks of slogging through heat and humidity and you open your front door and there it is – a crispness in the air. The world looks a bit more in focus and you just feel lighter. For me, not drinking felt like fall. I love fall, but I also love red wine, so I know my sobriety is soon coming to an end. That said, I do think I will be more intentional about drinking – particularly about when and how much – and I feel good about that. And I’ll be damned – I’ve even acquired a taste for Guiness 0.

I guess sometimes, in moderation, less really can be more. Slainte!