I quit drinking for a year

DYNOMIGHT best Underrated reasons to be thankful Plans you're not supposed to talk about Better air is the easiest way not to die Bourdieu's theory of taste: a grumbling abrégé Grug on diet soda and autism I don't like NumPy topics AI air bourdieu computer conspiracy data discourse economics effort experiment forecasting health history life lists math philosophy policy psychology random science writing follow RSS mastodon bluesky substack go about if (screen.width > 768){ document.querySelectorAll('nav details').forEach(menu => { menu.addEventListener('mouseenter', () => menu.open = true); menu.addEventListener('mouseleave', () => menu.open = false); }); } I quit drinking for a year dynomight · Apr 2026 · life In early January 2025, a family friend was over for lunch. One of my many guilty midwit pleasures is a love of New Year’s resolutions, so I asked her if she had made any. She said no, but mentioned that she had some relatives that were doing “damp January”. In case you’re not aware, Dry January is a challenge many people do to quit drinking alcohol during the month of January. These folks were doing a variant in which, instead of not drinking, one simply drinks less. For some reason, this triggered me. I thought, “Are you kidding? You can’t even stop drinking for a single month? Do you know how pathetic that is?” And then, “Fuck you! Fuck you for doing damp January! You know what, I’m going to stop drinking for a year!” To be clear, these thoughts were directed at people I’ve never even met. In retrospect, I wonder what was going on with me emotionally. But I take resolutions seriously, so I felt committed. We are now 15 months down the timeline, so I’ll make my report. It was easy This will sound odd, but I swear it’s true. Not drinking was so easy that it was almost easier than my previous baseline of not-not-drinking. Before starting this resolution, I didn’t drink much—perhaps two or three drinks per week. But I often thought about drinking. Every time I saw friends or went to a restaurant, I thought, “Should I have a drink?” Usually I decided not to. But making that decision required effort. After a few weeks of not drinking, that question never even came up. Drinking was simply not a thing I did, so I never needed to negotiate with myself. Theoretically, you could allow yourself one drink a month instead of zero. Theoretically, that should be easier. But I’m pretty sure I’d find it harder, because alcohol would still be an option, a thing to consider. Sometimes I need a thing Early on, I sometimes wanted a drink. But gradually I noticed that I didn’t really want a drink, I just wanted a thing. I can’t find a precise name for this concept in psychology, but often, some deep part of my brain seems to scream, “I WANT A THING.” It could be alcohol, but I found dessert worked just as well. I suspect that a new shirt or meeting a new dog would also work. I was not able to stop my brain from doing this. When it demanded a thing, I gave it a thing. I just substituted a non-alcohol thing. So, over the year, I became interested in desserts and even-more interested in tea. The struggle was The Chocolates. Shortly after I made this resolution, my mother gave me a bag of chocolates that each contained a bit of whiskey. In general, I don’t keep chocolate at home. If anyone gives me chocolate, I immediately eat all of it and then text the giver, “Thanks for the chocolate, I ate it instead of dinner, it’s all gone, this is what will always…

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