Last time I got sober, I wrote a blog post about how I did it, analogizing the method to prepping for a nuclear-event-style doomsday disaster, riding out the worst of it in a bunker, and emerging from said bunker prepared to survive the nuclear fallout. It’s one of my favorite blog posts, and sometimes I go back and read it and pat myself on the back for having been so witty and pithy.
In a nutshell, I advocated hiding away in your home, cutting yourself off from your drinking buddies (represented in the post by scab-ridden radiation zombies), and emerging yourself in a load of in-home pastimes until you’re over the worst of the cravings. Only then can you safely tackle getting back to normal life… or what’s left of it.
Getting sober this time has been a little different. Sure, I haven’t exactly been a socialite, but then again, when I got shitfaced all the time, I wasn’t either. Early-early sobriety this time has meant shifting my addiction from booze to something else: big-ass energy drinks, which I’d consumed last sobriety run, but to which I’ve exhibited religious-level dedication this time around, just like alcohol.
I’ve been so successful at this, that I have no idea why, when life got tough, I turned to paint-stripping-strength gin and tonics instead of chronic-jaw-pain-inducing levels of caffeine and something guarana. Whatever the hell that is.
The buzz of alcohol, and why I enjoyed it so much, is a mere ghost of a memory, and when I have a shitty day at work or when someone gets the seat on the train I’d had my eye on for four or five stops, I don’t immediately think of how many beers I’ll drink that evening, but how far I can make my eyes bulge out of my head from getting high as a motherfucker on caffeine.
Clearly, this is only a temporary solution for my recovery from alcoholism, as my dentist will get shit-angry with me if she has to extract my sole wisdom tooth, and I hear sleep’s a good thing to experience. When I googled it, sleep had quite a few cheerleaders.
But so far? I can’t recommend this method of getting sober enough. I’m five weeks in and getting this far has never been easier. And, boy, have I gotten familiar with advanced-strategy Worms game play.
Before I started writing this post I thought of compiling a five-point list of my favorite oversized energy drinks, but decided against it, in part because I wouldn’t be able to make it humorous, and in part because I figured there probably aren’t that many other countries other than Norway that consume one of my favorites: Super Fart!
(In Norwegian, fart means speed. And super? Yeah… that means the same thing.)
The result is I’m sitting here, sipping on a can of Super Fart!, wondering what the hell I’m writing about, which is a typical symptom experienced while consuming the stuff. Let me just glance at the title again. Yep, I’m back on track.
This is a dangerous way to quit boozing. Sure, energy drinks are way less destructive to my life than booze ever was, but here at Hilariously Sober, we like to get serious and think about the long term. Honest. So what’s the next step in my sobriety?
Obviously, it has to be not living the life of a depressed, overweight fifteen-year-old whose only escape from his oppressive middle-class family is his Xbox 360 and attention-spam-shortening beverages. I have to move on from this, make another addiction switch to something even less harmful, eventually ending up addicted to something healthy, like exercise or helping old people across the road, or combining them into a crazy new fitness trend I could definitely make a viral video about.
But I’ll leave that for another blog post. This thing’s getting as long as I like them to be, and I have tickets to the cinema I don’t want to eat the price of.
Tune in next week for ‘Five Healthy Addictions to Swap with Boozing Your Tits Off’.
Until then, feel free to put your newfound addictions in the comments section.
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