This story is based on a conversation with Barbara Face, 70, a former training manager from Phoenix. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I’ll never forget the first time I drank alcohol to excess. I’d had the occasional, tiny taste of it when my parents had it with a meal, but this experience was different.
We were at a church retreat, and a boy had sneaked in a six-pack of beer. He stashed it in a pile of snow to keep it cold, and we opened the bottles with glee.
After a while, I started to feel happy. However, it was accompanied by a sense of numbness. Things were tough at home, and I forgot about my problems for a while.
Drinking made me feel better
My friend and I started drinking sweet, fortified wine. We had to rely on older kids to buy it from stores, who mostly used fake IDs.
I couldn’t help notice that my high school friends drank less than I did. They wanted to have fun, but it was more than just a joyride for me. I just wanted to feel better.
On my 18th birthday, a friend drove me over the border to Wisconsin, where the legal drinking age was 18, compared to 21 in our native Minnesota. It was thrilling to be in a bar.
My parents didn’t want me to go down the college route. They thought it was wrong for a girl to do so. It damaged my self-esteem, and my outlet continued to be drinking.
Still, I’d describe myself more as a social drinker in my late teens and early 20s. I got married at 19, but divorced five years later. The break-up hit me hard.
It was painful to be so hungover
I ran with a fast crowd, and weekends were about drinking. One night, in my early 30s, I filled a flask with vodka. I was swigging it while dancing. I don’t remember driving home, but I crashed my car into a barrier.
Somebody came by and took me home, and my friends helped me pick up my car the following day. I was so hungover, it was painful. The fact that I’d blacked out scared me to death.
A therapist referred me to a 30-day treatment center where I dried out. The clinicians were so worried about me, they would only release me to a women’s halfway house.
I joined AA and became a sober person for a few years. Then my mental health deteriorated again. I went back to my old ways and drank up to two bottles of vodka every weekend.
Then, after being accepted into a Master’s program at Ohio State University, I began to drink hard liquor every night alone after school. I had terrible hangovers and felt ashamed and guilty.
I wrecked my car on the way to a casino
I moved to Birmingham, Alabama, after taking a job in a call center. The hangovers made me angry and resentful. It was always someone else’s fault, not mine, and I was reported by a supervisor for erratic behavior and swearing.
Somehow, I managed to hold onto my job and move with the company to Phoenix in my 40s. I was drunk and headed to a casino, when I totaled my car.
Fortunately for me, it was on a Native American reservation, and the police officer who attended didn’t have the jurisdiction to breathalyze me. I refused, and it got me out of a DUI.
Two decades went by. There were days when I didn’t want to wake up in the morning.
My blood pressure was very high
“I’ll have a small glass of wine at 3 p.m.,” I’d tell myself. Then it would be 2 p.m. I drank one or two bottles of wine a day. My dinner was inevitably liquid. It wasn’t the taste I was after; it was the emotional release.
The wake-up call came in September 2024 after an annual check-up at the doctor’s office. My bloodwork results were dangerous. My blood pressure was very high, and I was also verging on pre-diabetes.
The doctor asked about my blood sugar levels and whether I liked sweet things. She asked about my drinking, and I lied about the amount because I was ashamed. I said it was about two glasses of wine a day. “You should try to cut back,” she said.
It was around that time that I received a marketing email from an app that offers advice on both reducing and eliminating alcohol intake. I downloaded the app and read how much my brain was being affected by the effects of alcohol, particularly at my age.
I attend online groups
I started to reduce my drinking by 10%, and then more. I’d measure out my glass of wine, which I’d sip during my evening meal. There were podcasts and readings about how much a woman should be drinking at my age. Then I joined some of the online groups, which were non-judgmental and supportive.
Cutting back lifted my depression a bit. I started to sleep better after years of insomnia. The endless cycle of negative thoughts slowed down.
Next, I began weaning myself off altogether. The first day I was able to go without alcohol was super exciting for me. It was a huge accomplishment.
I was concerned about my 70th birthday party
One day without drinking turned into two, then three, then a week. I’d never been proud of myself, but I was on top of the world when I had my last-ever drink on December 9, 2024.
I had anxiety ahead of my 70th birthday party in late January 2025. “How will I be able to celebrate without Champagne?” I thought to myself. I managed fine.
Then, my sister-in-law and I went on a cruise along the River Danube. Everybody was drinking, but I stuck to my cranberry juice and tonic water. It felt good to travel without being hungover.
I had my bloodwork redone last April, and there was a marked improvement. I was no longer at risk of being pre-diabetic. My blood pressure had lowered.
In the meantime, I look and feel a whole lot better. My face no longer looks bloated. I’ve started doing yoga and feel a lot more fit.
People ask me if I’m worried that I might go back to drinking. What’s stopping me is the thought of a healthy future. As I approach 71, I’m in the last stages of my life, but I still find it worthwhile to be alcohol free.
Read the original article on Business Insider
The post I started drinking at 14, and it became a dangerous habit for more than 55 years. I’m finally sober at 70. appeared first on Business Insider.
