We already know what alcohol is doing to us. We can see it in our sleep, health, mood, relationships, work and the promises we keep breaking. And many of us have had mornings when we meant every word of, “I’m not doing this again.”
Then later that day, or a few days afterwards, we drink. So we start wondering whether we really meant it. Maybe we’re weak. Maybe we don’t want it enough. Maybe there’s something wrong with us. But we did mean it.
The problem is that wanting to stop doesn’t make all the old reasons for drinking disappear. That’s the drinking trap.
Why more reasons to stop don't always change anything
Most heavy drinkers don’t need another list of what alcohol can damage. We might already be frightened about our health. We could have lost trust in ourselves, worried the people around us or watched drinking take over more of our life. Those are strong reasons to stop.
They tell us why we need to get away from alcohol. But another part of us might still see the drink as our way to handle evenings, sleep, stress or social situations. So one part of us is trying to leave while another part still sees alcohol as giving us something. The back-and-forth in our thinking can be exhausting.
More fear and more self-criticism won't necessarily sort that out. So we have to get honest about what still makes the drink appealing.
We weren’t born wanting alcohol
There was a time when none of us needed a drink to get through an evening. We didn’t naturally connect stress, celebration, boredom, dinner or Friday afternoon with alcohol. Those connections were learnt.
We drank, felt a quick change and our brain remembered it. We repeated the same thing in the same situations and the connection became familiar. Over time, the thought of alcohol could come up without us deciding to think about it. And when the thought came with a strong physical or emotional pull, it could feel like this was just who we were.
But we weren’t always this way. The desire grew over time, so we can look at what kept it going.
What alcohol does to our brain and body
Alcohol can create the discomfort we later drink to escape. As it wears off, we might feel anxious, restless, irritable, flat, shaky or unable to sleep. Then another drink brings relief for a while. So it seems to work.
The thing is, the relief doesn’t last. We drink, feel better briefly and then deal with the next round when that alcohol wears off. This can become one of the strongest drinking loops, especially once tolerance and dependence have started developing. By then, we may not be drinking for fun or even for a buzz. We could be drinking because not drinking feels worse.
So alcohol starts to feel necessary, even though each drink is keeping that need going.
We still believe alcohol gives us something
Then there are all the reasons we still think drinking will help. Maybe we believe it relaxes us, makes us happier, helps us cope or gives us a reward at the end of the day. And they don't feel like beliefs. They feel true because we can remember times when we drank and felt different.
But we often give alcohol credit for the first change and leave out everything that came afterwards. We remember the relief and forget the anxiety. We remember the first hour and leave out the argument, the poor sleep and the wasted day. The Belief Bucket covers ten common beliefs that can keep alcohol looking valuable.
And we can have personal beliefs as well, from things we’ve been through and the way alcohol fitted into our life. If we still believe alcohol gives us something important, stopping can feel like giving something up, even when we know how much it is taking.
Our thoughts start running on their own
Then there are the thoughts we’ve had so many times that they start coming up by themselves.
“I’ve had a hard day.”
“I deserve a drink.”
“I’ll only have a couple.”
“I’ll stop tomorrow.”
Often, it doesn't feel like we're making a fresh decision at all. The familiar thought comes up and we go along with it. The first drink may be poured before we’ve really questioned it. We don’t stop to question it because it feels so familiar. We’ve practised it many times.
And every time we go along with it, we practise the same response again.
Why willpower feels so exhausting
We can force ourselves not to drink while our body feels uncomfortable, alcohol still looks like the answer and the usual thoughts keep showing up. So we spend the day arguing with ourselves. We avoid places, count the hours and try not to think about alcohol while thinking about it constantly.
That takes a lot of effort. And if we eventually drink, we take it as proof that we have no willpower. So all we’ve got is willpower trying to hold back a desire that has been building for years.
The real problem is the desire
If we only focus on not pouring the drink, it can feel like a battle we have to win every day. We also need to look at why alcohol still looks like it gives us something or feels necessary. So we start looking at what is really going on. Is our body reacting as alcohol wears off? What do we still believe the drink will do? And what thought gives us permission?
We don’t have to hate alcohol or frighten ourselves every morning. We need to stop seeing it as something that solves our problems. Alcohol can give us a short break from discomfort while creating more of the same discomfort afterwards.
That short break makes alcohol look like relief, a reward or an escape. But it also leaves us with more of the feelings we were trying to get away from.
Start looking at what happens before the drink
The next time we look back at a drinking session, it helps to go further than, “Why did I drink?” What were we feeling physically? What did we believe the drink would do? What thought gave us permission to pour it? And afterwards, did alcohol really do what we expected when we count everything that followed the first drink?
These questions tell us far more than making another promise to try harder. We kept drinking because alcohol still looked like the answer. But when we look at what has really been happening, it doesn’t look like much of an answer anymore.
— Brent