Lyn and I went to the pub last night to celebrate the birthday of a friend of ours from the cafe. I hadn’t been into a pub since I stopped drinking about four months ago, and I was rather worried about it. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to resist the temptation to have a beer; but I also knew that, were that to happen, things would come down like a house of cards and bad habits would return in the blink of an eye. Sat there, surrounded by friends, part of me was getting rather grumpy, demanding to know why I couldn’t just have one beer, like a ‘normal’ person. But I knew that one would lead to two, two to three, and so on. The psychological gates would have been opened, and before I knew it I’d be falling out of my chair again, if not last night then tonight, tomorrow or soon. That was not going to happen*.

This situation came to an end, however, as soon as I ate. We were there before dinner, but, getting there to find food was on the cards, Lyn texted Dom to come help us. All thought of alcohol left my brain as soon as that burger hit my lips, and after that I was right as rain, chatting to people, showing off my thesis and blog on my Ipad. It turned out to be a great evening, and I think Lyn and I made a few new friends. I stuck to Kaliber, nonalcoholic beer; Lyn was on juice. We got home just before eleven. I was feeling tired, but really pleased with myself. I had done it: I’d spent an evening in a pub without drinking a drop of alcohol. Given the state I was in before giving up, I think that’s quite an achievement. What’s more, now I know I can do it, and that I don’t need a drink to enjoy a party. I have no hangover, nothing’s been damaged: alcohol-free certainly is the way to go.

*As a strategy, I imagined Captain Picard had given me a direct order not to drink, using his deepest, sternest voice. It seemed to do the trick.