The Last Drink
I found myself on the bathroom floor, on tiles as blue as the ocean—though just as cold.
It was three in the morning and I couldn’t sleep. Why was I trying to sleep on a bathroom floor, you ask? Ah, here begins an incredible story, a journey of 171 days since the last drink.
Grab your favorite beverage (hell, maybe even alcohol, that fits perfectly), slouch into a couch, and enjoy.
The Worst Night
“Ah shit,” I muttered as the room spun. I stumbled through the hallway and into the bathroom. Acid reflux scorched my throat—like someone had poured acid straight through me. Ech. Familiar agony, only now it had leveled up.
“Please, just let me sleep... for a moment,” I pretty much begged. Not sure to whom though. God? Hah!
And indeed, someone had poured acid down my throat. Me, myself, and I. The alcohol. The devilish, slippery alcohol.
I sank down to the ocean-blue tiled floor. Grabbed a blanket and became a burrito (more on those to come). Still shivered, though. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if it was the cold, or the alcohol. Probably both.
I couldn’t lie down—reflux kicked me. Usually, sitting upright helped, but this time it made no difference. Sleep was impossible, and I just wished the night had never happened. If it could just end right now. If I could just fall asleep and wake up feeling well...
Wait. This isn’t right. This isn’t the beginning. No, no, no.
Let’s rewind!
Before It All Went Sideways
Nineties music blasted. I almost wanted to dance. Almost.
The room buzzed with people in retro outfits: mafiosos, workers, and whatnot. I was there too, blending in, except for my futuristic New Balance (not an ad) sneakers. Definitely off-theme. At the time, I didn’t realize it, until I saw the after-party photo album and everyone pointed it out. I did look hilarious. So, I laughed with them.
A couple cocktails deep, I felt like flying. One or two more, and I had to squint with one eye just to stay focused. Trust me, I get drunk fast. Three beers in, and I’m singing.
…
Ohh, look at those burritos (told you to wait for them)! I grabbed one. I blinked; it vanished. So I grabbed another. Glad they had vegetarian snacks. Shout-out to the burrito chef. Or… maybe not. I might regret it later.
I felt alive. Free to speak, dance, sing and joke around. But I neither danced nor sang.
It was the company Christmas party. And I’ll admit - it was awesome! Until the end of course.
Alcohol loosened me—well it loosens everyone, I’m no different. Not into aggression, but into authenticity. A version of me usually hidden came out. And I liked it. Not the taste of alcohol. Never really liked that—apart from cocktails, those are tasty suckers. But the freedom. The release from overthinking and self-consciousness.
…
The party had games where you earned fake money to play poker later in a mock casino. Winners—those who collected the most cash—got prizes. I didn’t even know about it until the end. I just played for adrenaline and thrill of winning. Well, more like losing in this case.
I hate losing. Always have. But even the greatest ones can’t always win. So at those moments you just flip the table and flip the others and storm out.
After hours of fun, I stumbled to the bar for water.
“Make it two!” I shouted. It was really loud. Or… was it? Hehehe.
The bartender handed me two cold as ice bottles.
Here’s a secret: drinking water while drinking alcohol helps. You feel better the next day. You stay a bit more sober, too, I guess.
But here’s another: don’t chug a liter of icy-cold water quickly.
Oh, but who cares. I’m thirsty and I want to feel better. Right now! Maybe I should’ve pulled the reins a bit. Take a breath or something.
Back to the Bathroom Floor
I left the party in good shape. Or so I thought. My head spun, and I remember nothing of the taxi. That’s a pretty good shape, isn’t it?
At home, I couldn’t even lie down. Reflux-… Not again about the reflux… Yeah, I guess we know this part already.
And here we are. In the bathroom. Asking why I do this to myself. I mean, I’m asking myself, not you asking of me. Relax. Take it eaasssyy.
After 171 days without alcohol, that night was the worst in years. Yeah, it’s 171 as I write this, might be more by the time I hit publish. Might be even 200, knowing how long my complete and reworked blog posts remain unpublished. One day I feel it's great, the next I want to trash it and it stays in a dark room until one day I return to it and smash the publish button. Or not.
I even tried to force myself to throw up for relief. Nothing worked. Or maybe I didn’t try hard enough.
…
The first few hours were sort of manageable. Then came the hiccups. You know the tricks: water, breath-holding, whatever? None worked. And these weren’t your typical, everyday hiccups. These were the heavyweight kind. At some point I thought my chest was about to rip open and the torture would stop.
Secretly, I wished that, as then at least it would’ve stopped. T-w-o painful hours.
Who caused it? Reflux medicine? The cold water? The alcohol? All of it?
You know that saying: “Don’t mix alcohol.”
I’d say: don’t mix these three things either. And for sure don’t drink a liter of cold water.
Small Changes, Big Difference
In the end, I’m glad for that night. For years I’ve searched for things that cause reflux and how to manage them. Sadly, not everything is maintainable; some things just had to go. This night showed me the worst possible case in relation to my reflux problem. And I sure as hell didn’t want to ever encounter this again. A choice was clear.
I swore to never drink again. And thanks to that little night of adventure—I’ve since found other reflux triggers and eliminated them. Coffee, that was a tough one. But I replaced it with matcha. No eating after 8 PM. No more late-night loaf of bread, and a few other minor changes.
Occasionally I still have reflux problems, but they are minor compared to what I have lived with for many years. And I’m very glad I learned so much about my body and what it likes and doesn’t.
One tiny step at a time.
The Afterlife
Life after that shifted. I’ve been to parties, birthdays, gatherings—surrounded by drinkers—yet sober. Sometimes the only sober one.
At first it was weird, like being out of “sync”.
One evening, I sat and talked with my friend. He had a wine bottle open. We discussed the deepest things of life and it felt like a perfect opportunity for wine. Red wine. I can remember it almost as if it was yesterday—the desire that rose within me. At some mid point of that evening, I wanted to pour a glass for myself, to enjoy the moment ‘even more’.
But at that time, I was already like 120 or so days deep. So, I said no (not literally, just in my mind). I wanted to keep the streak going. It’s becoming a sport.
Later I had a similar occasion, and it was much easier to say no. And the next time and then at some point I no longer needed to even ask myself the question: “Should I pour myself a drink?”
A lot of this whole progress was recorded and discussed in my Morning Pages. As with many things, Morning Pages help me understand my true desire, who I am and many other things a human usually never discusses with himself.
Oh, you don’t know what Morning Pages are? Ahh, you’re in for a treat then! It’s a technique I adore. Every morning you write 3 pages (any size) of whatever thoughts you have. Then, you close it and basically never return to them, unless only very much later, if you want to. I’ve written them daily (with one missed day) for over half a year. But that’s a story for another post. Or… You can just Google it. Or better: ask ChatGPT.
So yes, life came back. Sometimes I felt unexplainable frustration around intoxicated people. But I learned that I’m not responsible for anyone but me. We’re all here to make our own choices. Eventually, the frustration faded. Though the smell of alcohol still repels me.
Will I Ever Drink Again?
I say I won’t, because I don’t miss it. By now, it really is a sport (told you so). But really, I’m just happy. Happier than when I drank. Besides, most reflux issues are gone, and that’s a huge win. But who truly knows how tomorrow’s going to look.
And most importantly, I changed a habit. That old habit of relaxing through alcohol. That’s what drives me: overcoming old habits and building new ones. When you succeed, it feels like conquering the world.
Not that I was addicted to alcohol. No. But I was always influenced by society. If everyone drinks, I drink. Otherwise I’d feel left out. Well, no more!
Now I control who I am. I can joke, be social, hold eye contact; without a drop of alcohol. Well… maybe not the eye contact. That one's still difficult.
Happiness & Choices
Some people challenge me: “How can you not drink? Isn’t that the joy of life? Aren’t you saying no to all the fun?”
Their words linger briefly. But then I just feel pity.
If happiness comes from alcohol, I feel sorry, and in a small way, grateful. These people strengthen my resolve. They help me understand who I truly am, and remind me to keep choosing consciously. Not to be better than anyone else, but to be better for me.
I remember a classmate who always said no to alcohol. Back then, I thought he was weird. Today, I believe he was wiser than we were. Not because he said no. But because he had the guts to make a choice of his own—not just follow the herd.
The End
It was seven in the morning as I stood over the sink and said goodbye to the two burritos and hiccups. You could say, ‘Ugh, how disgusting'. But honestly, I felt so much better after that. At last, I was able to return to bed and fall asleep. Half sitting, half lying.
Sweet dreams.
Listened to:
Thanks for reading. Cheers, hehe!