I quit drinking a year and a half ago. At the time I was suffering from insomnia and every sort of anxiety known to man. During a 3am Google deep dive I came upon an article about how alcohol could be keeping me awake, so I poured out the vodka. 

I’m not sure if it helped right away, but little by little I got hold of the anxiety and I began sleeping better. 

It turns out I didn’t miss the booze. The funny thing is other people did. At our Friday card night, I didn’t order my usual vodka soda and there was a collective gasp. “Not drinking tonight?” No, I was not drinking tonight. I explained that I was giving it up in order to sleep better. It satisfied everyone that night but the next week I had the audacity to not order a vodka soda again. “Still not drinking?” “ Nope.” I said. “Oh,” they said. 

I’ve gotten the same treatment from everyone I have known ever since. For instance, I told my sister I wasn’t drinking anymore because I found that I sleep better. To which she replied, “You’re just not drinking enough.” I suppose there is some logic there but with drinking that much comes a hangover, and back when I was doing my share of drinking, I didn’t handle the hangovers well. 

To deal with the stress of the pandemic I drank more than usual and spent a fair amount of time wondering if it was a hangover or just Covid. During the lockdown I had myself convinced that I had contracted the virus only to remember that it could have been the half bottle of Jameson that I downed with one can of ginger ale. 

To be honest, I’m not a good drinker. I am not good at it at all. I always overdid it, said stupid things I regretted, and, more often than not, hurt myself falling. I also had my dad’s affliction of feeling “ten foot tall and bulletproof.” I once tried to fight a grown man in a bar over an electric keyboard. It wasn’t even my keyboard. 

In the year-plus since I quit drinking, I discovered that when you don’t drink at a party it makes others that do drink nervous. Perhaps I’ll turn off the music and make everyone go home? Will my sobriety make it easier for me to bear witness to the number of rum and cokes you consume? Even worse, will I remember everything you said while you struggled to pull yourself out of the rose bush? 

Here’s the good news: I am perfectly fine with you drinking and having a good time. I don’t care. I happen to be having a good time too. You can count on everything I say as being genuine and, as an added bonus, I won’t throw up in your car on the way home. I may even give you a ride home. There is also a good chance I won’t try to beat you up just moments after confessing my love to you. 

For me, not drinking is good news. For all of you with doubts, please remember that I threw live skunks across my yard at 3am completely sober, proving that without alcohol anything is possible.

Cassina Farley can be contacted at cassinaandzachfarley@msn.com