Quitting nightly drinking is tough. But if you want to cut back, you can.
Sauvignon Blanc was my drink of choice, which I’ve been consuming for well over a decade. My husband prefers Chardonnay. I consider us to be social drinkers, but is that true or a clever bit of denial? We’ve never had a DUI, but have we driven buzzed? Yes, and we’re lucky to never get pulled over. Sound familiar?
Overindulgence in alcohol is a threat to everyone’s health.
In 2005, I was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive lymphoma. After months of grueling chemo, a blood poisoning that almost killed me and a psychotic drug reaction, I still needed a bone marrow transplant to survive. While this arduous year of treatment gave me back years of life that I wouldn’t have had, my immune system will always be compromised. But don’t get me wrong, I feel good. So good I never worried that wine was hurting me.
Chronic alcohol consumption can depress the immune system – along with a litany of other health hazards. And many of these are sub-clinical, meaning they occur without our being aware of them (until it might be too late). Google is a blabbermouth if you want to learn about the risks of chronic drinking.
In January, we decided to have a dry month. Some nights were a real battle to resist a drink; still, we did it. Well, we did it at least until Jan. 31 when we jumped off the wagon. We joked that we should have chosen February with only 28 days.
Then we asked: What did that dry January mean? Would we go back to our previous habits, or would this be a new pattern? We chose the latter. We would not give up drinking but only indulge on “special” occasions. In February, there was Valentine’s Day, my husband’s birthday and a couple of glasses raised on “the 19th hole.” It was fun, and we’d cut down from more than 60 drinks a month to three “Happy Hour” occasions, with two-drink maximums.
How will you define your special occasions? Maybe it is finally getting those bags for Goodwill out of the garage. Maybe it’s after you fertilized the house plants or organized those deductible receipts. You’ve got to decide. Just be careful of “It was such a lousy day” or “I need to relax.” Those can be slippery slopes.
Giving up Happy Hour, without an end in sight, can take a mighty big resolve.
After months of struggling to cut back, I still feel the occasional urge to drink. But it’s transitory. Most afternoons around 5 p.m., I do have a twinge of longing. I feel deserted by my friend, Ms. Sauvignon Blanc. But alcohol is a flirt. The desire for it comes, then leaves.
And here’s a big win. Some mornings when I wake up, I feel ridiculously happy – light and clean. I want to raise my fist and cheer (sometimes I do). And Happy Hour, I realize now, is just that: one hour. The lift that alcohol brings is temporary. The benefits of cutting back last years.
I don’t plan to stop drinking. I will still enjoy birthdays, dinner parties and the 19th hole with friends. But every night? No.
Cutting down was doable for me and my husband because we had each other as well as good reasons to abstain. Perhaps you can find your own reasons and your own pal to join you. It’s a battle, no doubt; and my husband and I are not done fighting. But it does get easier with time.
Happy Hour comes and goes, but good health lasts a lifetime.
Susan Keller, of San Rafael, is the author of “Mostly Sober: A Love Story and a Road Trip.”
