Why I stopped drinking alcohol
There was a flurry of new subscriptions this week, and I have no idea why—but welcome to all of you: Dani P., Robin B., Chris F., Fanny Bea W., Muhammad N., Hung Q., Shalini P., nscprez, Katharine, RENY, and MAV. I suspect at least one or two of those are pseudonyms, but I’m welcoming you just as you are because that’s how we roll here at Release and Gather!
Thanks for signing up for this weekly missive, where I cover all sorts of things like donating stem cells for my brother (who turned 50 this week!), overwhelm, eyebrows, job interviews, bad books, bumps in the night, elk viewing, failure, front yard urination (almost), rainbows, boudin, depression, inspection sticker fiascos, being a rulebreaker, everyday miracles, connection, unexpected produce, addiction, and how I became a grandmother at 35. What I learned a long time ago is that life is full of interesting people and situations, and focusing on one topic in my writing is simply boring. So you get this insane mashup of subjects as the weeks roll on.
This week I’ve been making my way through
’s storytelling course for bloggers (he’ll be releasing an updated version later this year) after he graciously offered the course to paid subscribers over at . (Also, Mike has audio versions of each lesson, and I am hooked!—even though I generally prefer to read rather than listen. His voice reminds me of Winnie the Pooh. Don’t believe me? Just head over to his post this week, which has a voiceover.)I’m only a few lessons in, but so far I appreciate how it’s making me consider my motives here.
Who is Release and Gather for? What am I giving my readers? How do I want you to feel here?
I started writing because I believe our stories make the world a better place, regardless of where you’re from, what you look like, what language you speak, or how you live your life. Humans are insanely interesting, and when we get curious about each other, we learn and grow.
So I hope to give you stories of resilience, growth, patience, kindness, and discovery, and I want you to leave feeling inspired, understood, and not alone. My goal is for these stories to grow in you what they have grown in me—empathy, love, acceptance, and curiosity about others.
In turn, I want to hear from you. Please email me at hollyrabalais@substack if you’d like to share your story or join the discussion in the comments. I gain new perspective each time I hear from one of you!
If you’d met me in my late teens or early 20s, this song wouldn’t have been my anthem…but only because it was released about five years too late.
Alcohol, my permanent accessory / Alcohol, a party-time necessity / Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself / O Alcohol, I still drink to your health
…
I love you more than I did the week before / I discovered alcohol / O Alcohol, would you please forgive me? / For while I cannot love myself / I'll use something else…
I grew up in the American South in the Bible Belt.1 I won’t dive deep into that subject, but the important takeaway is that except for those crazy coonasses in South Louisiana,2 everyone I knew went to church on Sundays, looked a certain way, and refrained from consuming alcohol. If you loved Jesus, you had to appear to be perfect and you certainly didn't drink. At least not in public.
I remember my parents drinking a bit when I was very young, but they quit before I reached the age of 10. I can’t tell you when it happened—it wasn’t announced with any fanfare, but at some point, there was no longer any beer or wine in the house. Later they each told me their reasons.
My mom grew up with an alcoholic father, and one evening as she made a drink, she realized her cocktail had become a habit, something she looked forward to every night. She immediately poured the drink down the kitchen sink and didn’t touch another drop. My dad used to keep beer in the fridge to enjoy after an afternoon of yard work. Someone asked him how he would respond if one day his children said they wanted to drink beer like him. Considering his influence on his children, he stopped drinking, and that was that.
So I grew up in a house without alcohol. Most of the people I knew didn’t consume it or weren’t public about it if they did. In high school, I didn’t go to parties like some of my peers, so I never had to decide for myself if I wanted to drink. Then I went to college.
(Such a cliche, isn’t it?)
I’ll spare you (and myself) all the drunken details, but I partied like there was no tomorrow, living life fast and large until I became pregnant at 23 with my first biological child.
Noah comes from the Hebrew word נוֹחַ, which means comfort or rest. I only learned this a couple of months after he was born. Rarely are newborns associated with rest, but Noah indeed brought rest to my life. Rest from my constant striving for attention. Rest from a life of empty, meaningless pursuits. Rest through my return to God.
Through the years, I still drank, but the older, wiser, and more fulfilled I became, the less I drank to excess.
In the March 2023 Collection, I wrote:
Along with cleaner eating, Mike and I decided about a month ago to stop drinking alcohol. Not just for Lent. For good. We’re not heavy drinkers—normally a craft beer or two with pizza at our favorite brewery, a margarita with some Mexican fare, or a couple of glasses of wine over a charcuterie setup. So why did we stop?
So here I am, answering that question.
Mike and I are middle-aged, and our bodies hurt more when we drink at this age.
We don’t sleep well after having drinks with dinner.
We considered why we drank and discovered that alcohol simply wasn’t serving us well.
Consuming alcohol wasn’t propelling us toward the purpose God has for us as parents, friends, and part of our community.
Oh, and alcohol is hella expensive!
Our community was a huge motivator for us to stop drinking. People here idolize partying—young people, old people, brown people, pink people, rich people, poor people. It’s as if no one knows how to have fun without loads of alcohol, and that’s contributing to the myriad of health issues (mental and physical) that so many of our friends and neighbors battle.
Lest it should seem I’m pointing fingers, let me be quick to admit that while I haven’t drunk to excess during this season of life, there were many days all I wanted to do was forget about the difficult day I had by going to the nearest Mexican restaurant and consuming a big pile of calorie-laden nachos and a margarita. Food and alcohol had sort of become a coping mechanism, a crutch, a bandaid, a distraction, an escape from reality, and whatever other analogy you can think of. I wasn’t drinking until I fell out of my seat, but I was drinking to not have to deal with life for a bit. ←Not healthy!
One of our close friends here in Woodville is eight months clean from drugs and alcohol and has begun to lead the charge to help others in our community who struggle with addiction. We want to stand with him in showing others there are ways to live a successful, happy, fun life without substances. And, of course, there is our son, Jonah. While his drug of choice was not alcohol, we still want to support him by choosing a cleaner life as well (he’s 10 months sober today, by the way!).3
This idea to cut out alcohol completely has been brewing (pun totally intended) for a while, and I’d like to note some others who have helped in our decision to quit.
In January, Tobias over at
published a piece titled "Stop Drinking." A rather bold imperative, I thought, so I checked it out and found a compelling argument for going dry. It was fuel to the growing fire of our decision.Last year soon after I began this newsletter, I met (virtually) Randall who writes
. His thoughts and stories about his own recovery and 's guest posts there have impacted the way I feel about substances and those who cannot take one drink without becoming addicted. What if my offering a friend a glass of wine with our meal starts her down a course that spirals into chaos? Something to consider.And then there is the ever-so-brave
who drew me in with this post over at :
She began last January with a mission: “…in 2022, I will be doing everything that terrifies me for an entire year.” And one of those things was to experience life sober. Her posts often challenge those who are “sober curious” to try it—dare to experience life fully aware. Challenged accepted!
Today I’m 48 days sober. What have I noticed? I’m cooking more since we’re not going out for dinner and drinks, so that means healthier meals and a healthier bank account. I’m sleeping better, which isn’t just in my head because Fitbit data proves it! Cutting out alcohol and sugar and gluten has proven to make my body happier—fewer aches and pains.
At the end of my work day at my job in IT, I’m more motivated to shift my focus to our small business. In the last six weeks, requests to book our event venue have skyrocketed, and we’re on track to leave last year’s numbers in the dust. It hasn’t been easy—I really would love a frosty margarita after a long week of work at the day job. But I’m committed to treating my body better and showing others that life without alcohol is not only possible but fun!
YOUR TURN
Give me all your favorite non-alcoholic mocktail recipes, please!
How has your relationship with alcohol evolved through the years?
Has alcohol proven to affect you differently as you get older?
Were you a party animal in your 20s, too?
https://www.thoughtco.com/the-bible-belt-1434529
“Coonass, or Coon-ass, is a term for a person of Cajun ethnicity. Some view it as derogatory, however many Cajun embrace the name. The term is believed to originate from the French word "conasse" meaning a fool.” (Wikipedia)
Also, I married one and lived in south Louisiana for most of my adult life, so I use that term with endearment.
Thank you so much for this post! A dear friend of mine has --after many years of blackouts and dangerous situations--decided to go sober. Last night, over non-alcoholic beers, we were discussing the insidious nature of alcohol in our country. It's everywhere; it's inescapable! And it's a huge killer! 50 years from now, I wonder if we'll look at alcohol consumption the way we look at tobacco. I say this as someone who still drinks occasionally, so no judgement. Still, I can see myself going down the path you and your husband are on, Holly.
Quitting alcohol is one of the best things that ever happened to me. There can be so much back-and-forth and semantics-parsing when you’re in the thick of struggling, but there is so much relief in acceptance. I think if you know, you know. I’ve never regretted my decision (in 2010!) to quit. Thank you for sharing this.