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I’m going to let you into a little secret.
A secret you’ll hear nowhere else.
It might be difficult to comprehend.
And some might disagree (and that’s perfectly OK…)
The most difficult day that I faced in my alcohol-free journey wasn’t Day 1, Day 27, Day 90, 180 or 270.
It was Day 366.
This is the day that very few people talk about. The day that gets overlooked, cast aside and which passes with a lack of fanfare. It’s the Boxing Day of the alcohol-free journey: a day that’s viewed as being sort-of-OK but really everyone is a bit worn-out because of the big celebrations the day before.
But why is it the most difficult?
The Morning After
First, let’s remember that every alcohol-free journey is different. But considering that Day 366 can be a difficult and confusing time for a lot of people, I thought it high-time to give it some proper love and attention.
Let’s be clear, it’s not like the previous 365 days were a walk in the park. I can only speak for myself, but:
Day 1 was the darkest day. When I knew I was bouncing along rock bottom like a dead pigeon on a runway, and something needed to change.
Day 3 was the most depressing day. All I wanted was a drink, it seemed like the whole bloody world was getting drunk and having a marvellous time, and I was sitting on the sober sidelines on my own. I had to lock myself in the toilet (ironically, a regular occurrence when I was drunk) just to keep myself away from temptation.
Day 17 was my most stressful day. I sat in a work meeting in a nondescript, beige office with my sweating palms face down on the plastic surface of the desk as I silently struggled through a panic attack. It felt like all the drunken mistakes, all the skeletons of my past were coming back to haunt me. I had to lock myself in the toilet again (familiar pattern emerging).
Day 90 was my most uplifting day. When I had proved to myself that - for the first time in 20 years - I had been able to take a substantial break from the booze. That was the moment I started to understand that I could follow-through on the promises I made to myself. I didn’t have to be the drunken disaster zone people thought I was. I started to believe that anything really was possible.
Day 365 was a day of celebration and emotion. I’d achieved my goal of going a year without alcohol. I’d come through the darkness, the hard times, and some pretty stressful situations. I’d voluntarily locked myself in so many toilets that people were starting to wonder if I needed to go see a doctor. But I’d finally done what has seemed impossible for so long: I was one year sober.
Day 366 was the day of confusion, bewilderment and abandonment. Because I had no idea what to do next.
And that is why it was the most difficult of them all.
The Party’s Over
Joining the 365 club is the pinnacle of everyone’s alcohol-free journey.
For so long (about 364 days, to be precise) we give envious glances to those on the other side of the velvet rope. We imagine ourselves in that luxurious VIP area of sobriety whilst simultaneously doubting whether it can ever happen to ‘someone like me’.
And then, lo and behold, after the slips and trips and stumbles, thanks to a bucketload of grit, determination, bravery and self-belief, that momentous day arrives. The burly 365 bouncer unclips the rope and ushers you into a brave new world.
And joining the 365 club IS such a bloody wonderful achievement. There’s no way to cheat your way there, it’s not like someone can do it for you, nor can you pay a bit of extra money to skip days 150 - 275, for example.
It’s hard, it’s tough, it’s a journey of rediscovering who you were back in the days before you started putting sambucas before self-respect. And journeys can be painful as well as uplifting.
But once you hit that 365, you have the celebration or the quiet moment of reflection. And the smiles or the tears. And the cake or the alcohol-free drink (or both) or however you decide to give yourself a bloody well-deserved treat…
...and then, you’re let out into the wildness.
Like Morgan Freeman in the Shawshank Redemption when he finds himself released from prison, out in the big wide world with no support structure around him.
This is how I felt.
Day 365: great times all round.
Day 366: a day feeling lost, confused, unsure of what to do, but I did know one thing….
I really fancied a beer.
A New Kind of Hero
Now don’t get me wrong, the majority of the sober support should be focused on the first 12 months of anyone’s alcohol-free journey. After all, the first sober birthday, Christmas, anniversary, meet up with the lads or weekend with the girls is always the hardest.
But why must sober support stop when we hit the 365 milestone?
It’s not just me who found it a difficult and scary time when I achieved my goal of a year alcohol-free.
There’s actually some science behind it as well.
Setting a goal such as going a year without alcohol can give us a powerful sense of direction and order. It also helps us to break old habits and thought patterns, because we are aiming at a new target and can make ourselves feel good as we progress and reach our mini-milestones of 30 days, 90 days, 250 days, etc.
As we hit those milestones, we get those little dopamine hits (and who doesn’t love a dopamine hit when you’ve been used to the booze buzz for so long?!). We pat ourselves on the back and it feels good.
But then the ultimate goal is reached and we get the one last hit of dopamine, then…
... Nothing.
No wonder our brains are frantically looking for something to take the edge off.
This is why Day 366 and beyond are so overlooked, and it’s frankly absurd that there is so little support out there for people who are a year alcohol-free and beyond.
I say this as someone who is over two years sober.
The cravings still arrive.
I still miss the buzz of that first drink.
I still tell myself, “you’ve proved your point, you’re allowed a drink every now and again”...
I still worry about social situations and events.
I still have days where all I want to do is press the f*ck it button and drink vodka from the bottle.
But there was so little support out there for me.
Maybe the fake sober gurus and the wannabe-wellbeing entrepreneurs ran some calculations through their crazy marketing spreadsheet and decided I no longer fitted their ICP (ideal client profile...still sounds wanky second time around).
Perhaps they think it’s easier to target ten hungover and desperate people than one person with a year of sobriety under their belt.
Well, it doesn’t matter to me whether you’re one day sober or beyond one year sober, I love you all the same and I’ll share my insights with anyone.
This is how you get through the most difficult day...
Unlocking The Door
Let’s get the easy one out of the way first.
1. Setting a new goal. We work best when we have a goal to work towards, especially as it restarts the drip, drip dripping of that sweet, glorious dopamine once again.
What goal should you pick? Well, whatever you like. It could be alcohol-related (I mean set a goal for another year sober, NOT a goal for how many Jaegerbombs you can down in a minute), fitness related, it could be that book, or the art-class or perhaps going on holiday for the first time in forever.
When setting a goal, however, make sure it is SMART (that stands for Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Realistic and Time-based). This will give you the structure you need to achieve it.
SMART goal examples are: ‘Within 6 months I will be able to run 10km in under an hour’ or ‘In the next 90 days I will have written the first 5,000 words of my book’.
Goal examples that are not SMART include, ‘I’m gonna get ripped for the summer’ or ‘I’d maybe like to do a bit more travelling sometime’.
2. Work out what you want. I know this is blasphemy in the ‘hustle’, ‘grit’, ‘smash your comfort zone’ world of wellbeing and motivation, but....
It’s not all about the goals.
Goals are great. And, as you saw above, SMART goals are even better.
But they are not everything. Achieving goals might be great milestones along the journey... But they are not the key to happiness.
Don't’ believe me? Find anyone who ever said “I’ll finally be happy when I achieve that house / promotion / pay rise / relationship / one year sober (oooh, controversial)”, and ask them how it worked out.
Why not take this time to reflect what happiness really means to you? True happiness isn’t found at the bottom of a bottle (and you believe it is, then it’s probably time you listened to a few more episodes of Over the Influence) but nor is it found purely in external achievements.
Write down what your perfect day would look like: Where you would be, what you would do, who you would spend it with, how you would feel…
...now how you can make that happen.
3. Helping others. If you’re feeling lost on day 366 and beyond, then why not focus some energy on helping others who are a few months behind you?
Maybe you could talk to people about your journey. Or offer an ear to a friend or stranger who needed it. Or help at a local alcohol-awareness charity. Or volunteer for a suicide helpline. Or talk to kinds in your local high-school about alcohol. Or visit that old gentleman down the road who lost his wife to Covid.
In short, try giving back. Without expecting in return.
That will make the most difficult day feel a lot easier.
One Day
So yes, Day 366 can be a strange, confusing, bewildering and, dare I say it, difficult day.
But remember, it’s only a day.
All days pass. Some will be good, some will be bad. Some easy, and some difficult. And being alcohol-free can’t change that.
Passing that one-year AF milestone is something akin to giving birth (and I say this with limited first-hand experience):
For months beforehand, it feels like you’ve been talking and thinking of nothing else.
Then you have the screaming and the yelling and the fear before the final push.
And it’s a beautiful new beginning.
And then you get through the front door, sit down on the sofa, admire the fruit of your labour and say, “Oh shit, what do we do now?”
Scary as it seems, this is the start of a fabulous new chapter.
And remember, the best is yet to come.