At the end of last year, I decided to give up alcohol. It wasn't some dramatic rock bottom moment or huge life announcement. It was more like a growing awareness that I couldn't ignore anymore. I realised drinking had become automatic. A habit I was no longer questioning. I was reaching for it most evenings without even thinking about it, and deep down I knew I didn't actually want that to be my normal anymore.

So I stopped. And for a while, it felt really good. Everything felt clearer, simpler, lighter somehow. I felt calmer in my own mind, more present, more connected to life again. Then Christmas Eve came around and I had a glass of prosecco at my sister’s house. And that was that. Not in some dramatic, chaotic way. I didn't suddenly spiral or lose control. Life just carried on. But slowly, over time, drinking started creeping back in again. Not to the level it was before, but enough for me to notice that little conversation in the back of my mind constantly coming up again. Maybe I should stop completely. Maybe I'm overthinking this. Maybe I can just moderate it. Maybe I just need more discipline.

Part of me kept wanting to make it simple and final. Just stop completely. No grey areas. No negotiating with myself anymore. But another part of me resisted that because I didn't want everything to feel so extreme. I thought maybe I could keep it minimal, stay aware of it, and just pull myself back if I noticed it creeping up again. And for a while, I actually think that mindset helped. Taking the pressure off made me calmer around it. I stopped treating alcohol like this huge battle and instead just tried to stay honest with myself in real time.

But yesterday I decided that was it. I didn't feel great yesterday, and I didn't even drink loads on Friday. But it was enough to get that feeling of, okay, this isn't working for me anymore. Because if I'm being really honest with myself, it's been creeping up again. And lately I've started noticing more and more how much it affects me, not just the next day but the day after too. Mentally, emotionally, physically. It lingers in ways I can't ignore anymore. And deep down, I think I've known for a while where this was heading.

Recently my thoughts haven't been great. I've felt more anxious and more frustrated at myself. And when I drink, even casually, I can feel how much harder it becomes to show up properly for myself and for other people. I don't think I can be the person I want to be while alcohol still has a place in my life. I don't think I can help people the way I want to help them or be there for the people I care about when I'm constantly battling the noise in my own head afterwards.

Right now they feel heavy. Hard to switch off. Almost impossible to ignore. But underneath all the noise, it feels like there's this deeper part of me, this quieter inner wisdom saying, come on Sarah, enough now. You already know what you need to do. This has to be it. You need to stop completely. You need to slow down. You need to give yourself the chance to properly reset instead of constantly trying to push through and carry on like everything is fine.

And I think that's the difference this time. I'm learning to listen to that inner wisdom instead of getting pulled into every thought in my head. So right now I'm stripping things back a bit. I'm taking a couple of weeks away from constantly pushing myself and using that time to properly focus on getting sober again. So here I am again. Day two. And honestly, I don't know exactly what this attempt will look like yet. I hope it sticks this time, I really do. But more than anything, I just know I need peace more than I need another drink.

I'm also starting to see all of this through the eyes of my future self. Like, what would the version of me ten years from now want me to choose today? What would tomorrow’s version of me thank me for? Probably not another drink. Probably the quieter things that slowly build a better life. Going to bed earlier. Drinking water. Preparing lunch for the next day. Getting through the evening sober so tomorrow feels lighter instead of heavier. Because in the end, that's really what this is all about. Taking care of yourself.

And when you genuinely start taking care of yourself, it doesn't just change your own life. It ripples outward into every relationship around you. Your family. Your friendships. The people you care about. The energy you bring into a room. The way you listen. The way you show up. I think sometimes we forget that looking after ourselves isn't selfish at all. In many ways, it's one of the most loving things we can do for the people around us too. 🩷