Does Quitting Drinking Fix Everything?

That time, I maybe answered too honestly.

A few years back—actually, it was probably way more than a few. My sense of time is all wacky now, either because of the pandemic time warp or the fact that I’m getting older. A while back, an acquaintance asked me, “Does quitting drinking fix everything?” Or something along those lines; I don’t remember the exact wording. 

The question blindsided me as we weren’t close friends or in a setting where we’d typically have these personal conversations. That’s my excuse, anyway, for quickly and emphatically responding, “NO!!!!”

When my awareness caught up to my mouth, I realized this person might be asking about recovery, that she might have a problem with alcohol. In fact, I had witnessed a moment or two when things didn’t look so great. A morning when she smelled of stale liquor and seemed still drunk from the night before. A story she told where she admitted to having too much to drink. When we alcoholics identify a person who may be “one of us,” we say or think, “We are saving a seat for you,” meaning the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) are always open. Come on by! 

So when I realized that this person, knowing I was in recovery, might be putting out feelers, I immediately started back-pedaling my “No, quitting drinking does NOT fix everything” response. 

I said something like: “Oh, of course. When I stopped drinking, things got better. I was clear-eyed and didn’t have a pounding headache every morning. I didn’t wake up with shame and remorse about the amount I drank last night or my actions because I was drunk…” 

I don’t know what I rambled on about. I felt my AA ancestors scowling at me as I tried to repair my blunder. 

But then, I said, because it’s true, and I’ve been instructed in recovery to always tell the truth, “But drinking was my solution for being me. So when I stopped drinking, things got really hard.”

“Alcoholics aren’t people whose problem is alcohol. Alcoholics are people whose answer is alcohol.” - Clancy, AA Ancestor

Thirteen years ago, when I admitted I was an alcoholic and put the plug in the jug, as they say, I then had to face life on life’s terms without the buffer of a vodka bubble wrap.

Some things were easier, of course, as the vodka did cause many problems. I no longer did or said stupid things because I was drunk. I no longer had to figure out how to procure the vodka, how to find time and space to drink, and then how to hide my drinking. Those mental gymnastics were exhausting, and it was a relief when I stopped.

However, when I took away the vodka, I was left with just me. Vulnerable, angry, terrified me. Now I could feel ALL the feelings, and that was not fun. Clancy¹, the AA ancestor previously mentioned, talked about having a recurring spring in his gut that, without alcohol, would tighten and tighten.

When you take away that alcohol, that spring in your gut twists so tight it’s unbearable. Like “I want to be hit by a bus” unbearable. And if you know me and my personal experience with suicide, I don’t say that lightly. 

Part of me is grateful to have had alcohol to get me through high school. I grappled with suicide ideation during those years. The relief I got from drinking saved me from ending my life.

But the problem is alcohol is a temporary solution. Or even worse, a solution that eventually stops working and causes more problems than it solves. 

So in 2011, when I finally admitted I needed to stop drinking, I also knew I couldn’t get through life without something to give me relief. I needed something to fill the void or release the gut spring or whatever you want to call that personal angst that makes you clench your fists, tighten your shoulders. “Restless, irritable, and discontent” is what The Big Book calls it. If my solution wasn’t going to be vodka, I needed something else.  

The people of AA told me I would find relief in the rooms. And, if the happiness they all seemed to be experiencing and displaying in the meetings was real, they found the answer. I begrudgingly decided to follow in their path. I could see no other options.

The Twelve Steps saved my life and continue to help me live, continue to relax that gut spring. You might be rolling your eyes (enough preaching about the Steps!), but I can honestly say it’s true. I’ve written a whole memoir about it. (“Sober Mom,” Coming soon to a book store near you—manifesting…) 

People in AA often say, “I have a life beyond my wildest dreams!” It took me a couple of years in the program before I realized what that meant. It doesn’t mean owning a huge mansion with a pool and three cars in the driveway. Or some other marker of success in our society. Because of AA, life is now something we would have never even conceived of. Because we didn’t even know that’s what we should have been dreaming for. 

AA markers of success, which we call the 9th Step Promises, include: 

• We will comprehend the word serenity, and we will know peace. 

• We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows.

• We will intuitively know how to handle situations that used to baffle us.

That doesn’t mean these things are true 100% of the time. But I have a program of living that I can turn to day after day to help me get through life, help me release that spring in my gut.  

Have you ever heard the term “dry drunk?” It was coined by AA to mean someone who isn’t drinking but hasn’t found other solutions to get through life. Some symptoms of being a dry drunk include: 

• Feeling like you’re always the victim

• Having trouble communicating with other people 

• Mood swings that range from depression to extreme happiness

• Fear that you can’t change

• Anger and resentment towards family and friends 

• Refusing to accept constructive criticism

(“What to Know About Dry Drunk Syndrome,” WebMD, July 8, 2023)

Anytime anyone tells me they’ve stopped drinking, I am happy for them because I do think alcohol causes so many problems. But if they don’t have something else to replace it with, some other sort of program of living or another way to release that gut spring, I worry about them. I’m not saying AA is the only way; I know there are other options out there. But I’m telling you, it’s what worked for me.

Despite my “No, stopping drinking doesn’t fix everything” blunder, the woman who asked me that question however many years ago did get sober, and as far as I know, she still is.         

If you are struggling with alcohol or addiction, AA can help. Visit AA.org to find a meeting near you.

1. RIP Clancy, who passed away in August 2020 at the age of 94 with 61 years of sobriety. “Clancy Imislund, longtime director of L.A.’s Midnight Mission, dies at 93,” LA Times, August 28, 2020