Of all of the things alcohol was to me, predictable had to be my favorite.  I knew what it would taste like, how that first fuzzy head rush of the first drink of the night would feel, and how it was completely accessible from pretty much anywhere.  It was predictable in other ways, as well.  It would make the stress of the day melt away, it would relax me, it would make me open up and socialize.  Alcohol did things for me nothing else in my life could.

My life was separated into two distinct parts: when I was drinking, and when I was not.  By quitting drinking, I had to give up that predictability.  I knew I would have to learn how to live a different life, somehow finding a way to get through the day without the knowledge of the 6pm finish line.  I wondered how I could possibly go through my day with no reward in sight.

There is one conversation that has always stayed with me, between myself and a patron at our bar about two months after I had first gotten sober.  We were discussing our draft beers, and I mentioned casually that I no longer drank.  The look on his face was one of incredulity.  It took him a couple of moments to stir himself from his brief shock.

“How do you relax?” he asked me.  His tone suggested he genuinely wanted to know.  I found this question confusing at the time, and was rattled by it.  So much so, in fact, that I had a difficult time coming up with an answer off the cuff.  How did I relax?

Having revisited this question, I’ve found my answer.  How have I filled the gaping hole left by alcohol?  How do I relax, wind down, and open up?  The answer is: Now, I don’t have to.

A year ago, my life was divided in two.  There were the hours between 6pm and 2am where I was oblivious, numb and “relaxed”.  Between 9am and 6pm, I was doing whatever I had to do to get to the end goal: the first drink of the day.  Daytime hours were excruciating, full of work, stress and have-to’s.  Nights were filled with drinking, relaxing and want-to’s.  I was a girl, a life, divided.

Now, I’ve taken my oil and vinegar life and shaken it.  My day is full of seconds, minutes, and hours of both stress and relaxation.  The bad times are leveled out by the good, with neither one having a strong foothold over any extended period of time.  I don’t have the guaranteed blissfully numb nights, but I also don’t have the guaranteed shitty, hungover days.  I can genuinely enjoy moments in the daytime, without them paling in comparison to the satisfaction I knew I would find at night.  I don’t have to find a way to be relaxed, because I already am.

I’m once again reminded that this is not necessarily the problem of an alcoholic, but a human problem.  Are there things in your life you’re leaning on to get through the day?  Are you living a life divided?  You might be surprised at how easy it is to stand on your own once you recognize those things you might be leaning a little too heavily on.

Habits and consistency are incredibly comfortable.  I generally knew what to expect daily when I was still drinking.  Get through the day to get to the night.  Cleaving myself from my old life, and my old habits, was the hardest thing I’ve done.  But this transition, this drastic shift, has paid off in a beautiful, messy, blended way.