53 Days Sober (and Feeling Good as Hell)
Today I am 53 days sober. It’s been a while since I started worrying about my drinking. Like many others, it’s been on my mind far more since the pandemic — but if I’m honest, it started a few years before that.
The pandemic was significant because, for the first time, we were confined at home for most of the day. For me, that meant the beginning of a pattern of drinking at home by myself. It wasn’t the first time I drank at home, but it was the first time it became a substitute for any other social activity. Living in a topsy-turvy world meant that all bets were off. Nothing was normal, which gave me an excuse to drink at will; after all, we could all be dead in a week!
The Many Excuses We Make
We’re good at that, aren’t we? When I say we, I mean people who drink too much. There’s always an excuse to top up that glass — stress at work, grief, road rage, the bad guys winning the election, or even poor substitutions in the online grocery shop.
Then come the good times: birthdays, holidays, promotions, or even getting an answer right on University Challenge. It seems no celebration is too small — or complete — without a glass of something.
Not even a quiet night in front of the TV is safe. The sparkles of Strictly always seemed to be better with something fizzy, and even watching with a cup of tea wasn’t safe. If I had a pound for every TV show where Nicola Walker opens a bottle of wine straight after work, I’d be a very rich woman. They fail to show the reality: woman falling asleep on the sofa, half-cut in front of the telly.
When “Normal” Drinking Isn’t So Normal
From the outside, my drinking didn’t look that dangerous — after all, I grew up in a drinking culture and most of my friends drank the same amount. But deep down, I knew it was.
I wasn’t putting vodka on my cornflakes or drinking in the morning, but I was steadily increasing how much I drank whenever I did. A bottle of wine didn’t even get me “drunk drunk” anymore — just tipsy. I lied to the GP about how much I drank, telling myself everyone does that. But at night I’d wake up worrying that I’d end up with breast cancer like my mum, who was an undiagnosed alcoholic.
Not every story of problematic drinking ends in rock bottom. Many of us just muddle along, patching our lives together as best we can.
The Breaking Point
There are only so many lies you can tell yourself. Deep down, you always know. And if you’re an overthinker like me, it preys on your mind.
So every now and then, I’d try something — Dry January, “just weekends,” or moderation plans. They’d work for a bit, but never stuck.
Then last October, my father died after a short illness. In my grief, I drank more than ever. I wasn’t out throwing up on pavements, but to feel drunk I needed a G&T after finishing a bottle of wine — sometimes even opening a second. Quietly, and without anyone really noticing, my drinking was out of control.
Discovering Just The Tonic Coaching
One day in late spring, while doom-scrolling on Facebook, I spotted the Just The Tonic Coaching ad. What grabbed me was the focus on getting control over alcohol, rather than being told I had to go totally sober forever.
Sandra sounded normal — Scottish like me — and I was drawn to her description of “high achievers” who wanted to regain control. A little vanity and self-esteem still flickered underneath the self-loathing of not being able to control my own actions.
Step one was signing up for the emails. I wasn’t ready to go all-in yet, so I gave myself “one last boozy summer.” But the emails hit hard. “Did you drink that bottle of wine on Sunday night and wish you hadn’t on Monday morning?” — Yes! How did you know?!
That’s when I took the plunge and booked my breakthrough call. I cried, and I signed up straight away.
Learning to Stay Alcohol-Free (and Human)
For the first few days, I worried about the cost and whether I’d fail. But I followed the program — the modules, journaling, posting, and calls — and I kept the faith.
Some people go dry straight away, but I didn’t. I still hoped moderation might work. I used the cut-down method, increasing my alcohol-free days each week. By the fourth week, something shifted. The alcohol-free days were getting easier.
By the time the 30-Day Challenge began, I was ready. What I hadn’t realised was that my 30 days included a pre-booked long weekend in Barcelona with my teenage son — my first ever alcohol-free holiday.
And it was brilliant. We had proper, deep conversations. He was my biggest motivation for doing this. Sure, there were moments of temptation, but nothing serious. One of the tools that helped me through was the “20-minute high” — just wait it out, and the craving passes.
Finding Joy in Alcohol-Free Rituals
One of my favourite discoveries has been the pursuit of grown-up alcohol-free drinks. I’ve replaced wine and gin with 0% versions, and even tried 0% tequila for spicy margaritas.
I make syrups, muddle mint, and even bought dehydrated fruit slices so my drinks look like they’ve been created by the best mixologists. Making them — and serving them in a proper glass — has become a lovely ritual that replaces alcohol. Better still, there are no hangovers.
If you’re looking for creative alcohol-free drink ideas, check out BBC Good Food’s mocktail recipes.
Life After 30 Days
By the time I finished my 30 days, I realised moderation isn’t for me. I’ve now pledged to 100 days — and hopefully beyond. But I’m not worrying too far ahead. The easiest way is just to stay alcohol-free one day at a time.
As Sandra says, “The only time we know we’ve stayed AF forever is when we’re dead.” And that’s not something I’m planning on doing anytime soon.
Jude is a proud participant of the Just The Tonic Coaching program who is learning to live an alcohol‑free lifestyle. She shares her personal journey and insights to inspire others to regain control over their relationship with alcohol.