Jenna's House of Idiosyncrasies Version 10.0 [Focus.]

Many people have asked me how the month of sobriety went, or even stranger, “how the not-drinking is going”, present-tense. It made me realize that I never wrapped it up, never gave it a conclusion in the narrative of my life. Someday, I may have a publicist for this sort of thing, but for now, I'll have to make the announcement myself—and ramble out some thoughts on the whole matter.

Starting in late January, I quit drinking for about 5 weeks. I started again about a month ago. I didn't fall off the wagon, this was always the prescribed course of action at the initial outset. I didn't do it because I thought alcohol was ruining my life. I did it because I have spent so much of my adult life doing exactly what I want to do. Going where I want, saying what I want, drinking whatever and however much I want. It's not that I don't own my consequences, because I do. It's that I thought I was incapable of stopping what was just good for me and doing what was actually good for me.

I was in so deep at the time—meaning, so much of my social existence revolved around drinking—that nearly everyone who heard of my plan told me they didn't believe I could do it. I was floored by the sincerity of these comments. People really didn't believe I was capable of stopping even temporarily. However, I did precisely what I set out to do.

The main thing I did was to avoid my favorite bar, my regular haunt. Sometimes, when I think about that strategy, it seems like I took the easy way out. If I didn't go to where the drinking was, it would be a relatively easy thing to not drink. But then I think about how not even going in, especially considering I pass it every night on my way home from work, and I realize that it was a major part of the overall battle. I didn't set out to just stay sober. I set out to do things other than drink—even if, presuming I could convince my favorite bartenders to not serve me, I was just avoiding club soda after club soda until last call. I wanted to do something else with my time.

I put out an informal call to my network. If anyone wanted to do something that was specifically not hanging out at a bar, especially a daytime activity, they were to call and invite me along. This had mixed results, mostly because when you're a drunk, you primarily make friends with other drunks. I don't begrudge my friends for keeping up their good time. The world didn't stop turning and the bars didn't close because I was staying away, but I do have the feeling that this, at least briefly, decimated my social life. It was a lonely time.

It was also not as a productive of a time as I had hoped it would be. I had fantastically grand plans in place, assuming that because I wouldn't be drinking, I would be more responsible. I wouldn't stay up til 4 and 5 in the morning and I wouldn't spend whole days sleeping it off. The biggest lesson from this whole experience is alcohol is not my problem. I have a general problem as a self-starter, and removing the variable of whole nights out drinking did not help in the slightest. In fact, I would venture to say it got worse. I still stayed up all night, except now watching DVDs and coding instead of being with people. Without the a high blood alcohol level, I didn't pass out at 4:30 but instead was wought with insomnia that kept me up until the break of dawn. And then I would sleep. And sleep. When I woke I would remain in bed, half-awake, drifting in and out of consciousness until late in the evening. When I would finally pull myself from my bed I would be more tired than if I hadn't slept at all.

I honestly thought nothing of it at the time, but in retrospect, this pattern of behavior was probably depression flaring back up. I hate to say this, but without my weekend routines of going out, socializing, and yes, drinking, I had dismantled my own support system. Instead of getting up and conquering the world as I had planned I found I simply didn't want to get out of bed. Other than my completely erratic sleep I usually felt okay, but if that had gone on for too long, I worry about where I would have ended up. I know I would have started drinking again eventually—except alone.

I wasn't all bad. I went out and saw live music sober for the first time in two years. It wasn't better or worse, but it was different. I got the bulk of a major geek project done that is only exciting to developers—but trust me when I say it was a lot of work and is a great accomplishment.

Most importantly, I found that I could do something I didn't want to do, that was hard, that took a substantial amount of will on my part, and I did it even in the face of major opposition. I can't remember the last time I did something like that, or if I've ever done something like that. I feel like a new person.

Even if the new person gets wasted on Fridays and acts like a fool. She's a happier, healthier and more confident fool than than a few months ago.