What A Sudden, Aggressive Alcohol Craving Taught Me At Nearly Two Years Sober

A fresh perspective on an old sobriety nemesis.

Created by the author using DALL-E 2

Like the vast majority of my recovery peers, cravings were a dreaded nemesis when I first stopped drinking. I feared them, and I felt like they had the power to control me. It’s a confusing and disempowering experience to be frightened of your internal dialogue.

I’m grateful that time has transformed my experience of alcohol cravings. At almost two years sober, I rarely have them anymore. I can’t remember the last time I had one that went beyond a fleeting thought. But last week, stressful circumstances disturbed my nervous system enough that I suddenly had an extreme urge to numb out.

The intensity of the craving blindsided me. I initially felt defeated and fell into questioning myself. Hadn’t I moved past this stage yet? Is it a bad sign that I still experience addictive thoughts? My thoughts were all fear-based. Then, I took a deep breath and carefully observed what was happening. Despite the discomfort of the moment, what I discovered was reassuring.

In this article, I examine cravings. What they are, what causes them, and what I have learned about beating them during the last two years of sobriety. I also suggest some tips for dealing with those emergency moments when addictive thoughts strike.

What is a craving?

Put simply, a craving is a strong desire to have something — an extremely strong desire. In early sobriety, these feelings can be overwhelming and, in my experience, can border on panic.

Cravings are a combination of mental and physical discomfort. I experienced racing and intrusive thoughts, feelings of depression, anxiety and overwhelm, and intense urges not to be feeling any of it.

I often felt physically restless and found myself pacing the house or fidgeting. Imagine having a strong urge to run yourself to exhaustion but without the motivation to get started. I felt like a cornered animal at times.

When we discuss cravings in the recovery community, some common themes emerge. Due to the cognitive dissonance between our conscious desire to quit and our subconscious desire to drink, they are frequently experienced and described as disembodied but internal enemies.

Wine witch. Booze bitch. Drink demon. Beer monster. The descriptions are usually hostile and combative, which made sense at the beginning of my sober journey. Stopping drinking takes courage and grit, and having an evil enemy to rebel against can be a source of motivation.

Gradually, I began to experience my inner demons as needy younger versions of myself. I could see and feel the memories of my struggling teenage and young adult selves, the ones who stumbled into using alcohol problematically in the first place. Dealing with them became less about combat and more about compassion.

However we experience cravings, they are always challenging. Learning how to cope with them is one of the most essential skills to develop on a quest for sobriety. More about that later.

What causes cravings?

Cravings have both physical and psychological causes. If we have become physically dependent on alcohol, our cravings can become dangerous in the form of withdrawal symptoms. In the most extreme cases, this is a medical emergency which requires professional help.

Even in less severe cases, when it’s safe to detox away from a medical environment, we can struggle with negative symptoms caused by suddenly removing a habit-forming substance from a biological system that has become accustomed to it.

Drinking alcohol alters the neurotransmitters, or chemical messengers, in our brains. It stimulates massive increases in dopamine production in the reward system beyond anything we could produce naturally. This dopamine boost is what provides the hit we chase.

When we drink habitually, we become reliant on the artificial dopamine boost to feel good. When we stop drinking, our brain initially experiences a significant reduction in dopamine supply. Now, nothing feels good, not even things we would usually enjoy. This dopamine slump is why the first days, weeks and months of sobriety can be challenging and filled with cravings.

Our reward system slowly rebalances, and we regain the ability to feel pleasure and contentment from simple and healthy sources. But this takes time; until it happens, sober life can seem flat and grey. It’s during this period that psychological cravings for the absent dopamine boost can be a menace.

We want to feel good again, and we associate alcohol with making that happen. In early sobriety, we find ourselves in a limbo state where we’ve removed our easy option to feel ‘good’ but haven’t yet adjusted to the stage where it happens naturally. It sucks, and it takes an act of faith to move through this stage, trusting that something better waits on the other side.

I promise that something better is waiting, but you may need to play whack-a-mole with your cravings until you get there. I wish I could tell you it would be easy, but it’s not, and it would only provide false hope. Understanding and accepting this part of the process is necessary.

Finding new ways to naturally boost our dopamine levels can be helpful. An increased interest in exercise and fitness is a popular sober hobby as people explore its positive effect on mood and mental health. Developing a sweet tooth, which is not so healthy, is also common. I became a sugar monster chasing an alternative reward hit during my first eighteen months, and like others, I gained weight.

There are many healthier ways to raise dopamine levels, which I will detail in my list of tips.

What I learned during last week’s sudden craving.

After being mostly free from cravings for a long time, last week’s events were surprising and uncomfortable. I don’t handle stress very well and prefer a simple, peaceful life. Sometimes, though, that’s not possible.

We had a roof repair, which ticked most of my stress trigger boxes. The builder was unreliable, not turning up when agreed. He was pressuring us to have more work done on top of an already expensive job. I hate having strangers in the house and the invasion of privacy, which terrifies our cat. To top it off, my partner got stressed with me for being so stressed.

By the time the builder left, I was prickly and frazzled. Old habitual responses resurfaced, and my inner dialogue screeched that I needed something to stop me from feeling like this. It was a familiar, destructive thought that brought so many memories.

I’ve experienced this haunting need to escape myself for as long as I can remember. As a bullied child, a struggling misfit teen, a confused young and then older adult. It’s like a thread woven throughout my timeline. Although it’s been less noticeable for the last year, I was reminded that the numbing urges still lurk and can strike quickly.

I took a few slow breaths and switched focus to my physical sensations and away from my racing thoughts. My stomach and chest muscles were tight, and I felt a dragging heaviness throughout my body. I remembered that although I felt extremely uncomfortable, this feeling would pass.

I knew without a doubt that I wouldn’t drink and that alcohol would do nothing but make the situation worse. I knew how pointless and fleeting any feelings of relief would be. Alcohol is rubbish, and I knew I didn’t want it.

I ate a pepperoni pizza and some giant cookies. I curled up on the sofa with my now-traumatised cat and lost myself in some Netflix and chill. Slowly, my nervous system decompressed, and the internal drama drifted away. After an afternoon snooze, I felt much better about the day’s events.

Most importantly, I felt immense gratitude that I wasn’t waking up to a banging hangover and feelings of defeat and shame. I was thankful I had the knowledge to deal with the craving and the wisdom not to act unskillfully over temporary discomfort.

I learned that having a craving isn’t a failure or a sign of weakness. Although I would have preferred not to have had that stressful day, I found reassurance and confidence in my ability to handle habitual, unhelpful thought reflexes without wanting to drink. Knowledge, wisdom, and an absence of powerlessness are the opposite of failure or weakness.

The most comforting thing I learned was that alcohol cravings no longer have the power to make me drink. They never did; I only believed they did. Now, I don’t. I don’t like and don’t want them, but I don’t fear them. That feels like freedom.

Here are some tips for dealing with cravings.

When cravings do strike, there are many things you can do to ease yourself through the experience without drinking. Here are a few suggestions:

Remember, they only last for a few minutes.

When we accept and simply experience what is happening during a craving, it helps us to move through it. Addictive thoughts are a normal part of the process of stopping drinking, and like any other thoughts, they arise, pass through our minds and fade away.

Try to observe and feel your discomfort when a craving appears while reassuring yourself it will pass. Instead of listening to your inner addictive voice, pay attention to the physical sensations in your body. Because this moves your focus away from those unhelpful thoughts, it eases the resistance and drama that can prolong them.

Distract yourself until they pass.

Go for a walk. Listen to a sober podcast or audiobook. Tackle a small task on your to-do list. Eat something, preferably healthy, but junk food is still better than booze. Write your thoughts in a notebook. These are all options that have helped me, and once you experiment for a while, you’ll discover what works best for you.

Reach out for help.

You’ll be amazed at the level of support available from recovery peers. Go to a recovery meeting, phone a friend, or go online. My primary source of sober support has been through the sober Instagram community.

If you find asking for help difficult or aren’t ready to put yourself out there, read the updates of your fellow sober folks. Recognising yourself in others’ stories and remembering you’re not alone in facing this can be incredibly helpful.

Talk to your version of the inner addictive voice.

If you visualise a negative, monstrous one, drag it down, insult it and remove its power. Tell it it’s full of bullshit and lies. If you see a struggling inner version of yourself, talk gently and reassuringly to it. Tell it you’re an adult now and can look after it. One of my old comic strips was about this.

I found the latter approach particularly powerful, but reaching that gentler self-compassionate stage took a long time and multiple quit attempts. In hindsight, I wish I’d tried it much earlier.

Learn how to reset an unbalanced nervous system.

You can take back your power to soothe yourself substance-free with simple self-help techniques. Meditation, mindfulness, breathwork, EFT (tapping), and EMDR can all be helpful free or low-cost options. YouTube is a rich resource for learning about such things.

Find healthier ways to stimulate dopamine production.

Exercise. Listen to music. Dance. Snooze. Get outside in the daylight and catch some sun if possible. Have sex. Have a tasty, protein-rich snack. Meditate. Create something. Get hot (sauna). Get cold (showers or wild swimming).

Do anything that brings you enjoyment in healthier, less destructive ways than drinking. They won’t bring the dramatic burst of dopamine you get from alcohol, but a combination of them can have a helpful cumulative effect on your mood during early sobriety.


I hope you find something helpful here. Dealing with cravings can seem like an impossible task when you first remove alcohol from your life. I understand how you feel; I’ve been there repeatedly. Addictive thoughts do fade over time, though. They become less frequent, quicker to pass and more manageable. It might seem hard to believe, but it’s true. Keep going, and it’ll happen for you, too.

23 Months Sober

I hit 23 months today, so I’m getting close to 2 years alcohol-free now. It might sound strange, but it feels completely normal and hard to believe simultaneously.

I’ve been less active in making posts here for a while, and I’ve realised that a few made it to Instagram but not here. This is mostly because I’m busy doing exciting new things that have only happened thanks to sobriety.

I’m still feeling very happy with my choice to stop drinking, but I’ll never take it for granted, so the online sober community will always be important to me.

Thank you to everybody who’s been on this journey with me. Thanks for sharing your stories and for supporting each other. Hugs x

Sobriety At Eighteen Months Compared With One Year

How my alcohol-free life is shifting during yeAr two.

When I hit my eighteen-month milestone, I noticed a few shifts in my experience of sobriety. I realised the previous six months had brought more changes than the first full alcohol-free year. Because much of this happened gradually, it’s only in hindsight I’ve realised how profound the transformation has been.

I know I can only ever understand sobriety from my perspective, but I’ve noticed a few repeating and relatable themes experienced by recovering peers. Here’s an exploration of seven common ways our sobriety can level up as we explore the second year.

All the sober firsts are over.

During the first year after stopping drinking, we must face every annual life event sober for the first time. Some of these are daunting. The first birthday, Christmas, anniversary or travel are significant, but any celebrating or socialising can be challenging.

By eighteen months, these milestones are repeating. We’ve proved to ourselves we can face them without needing alcohol, and we fear them less. Repeated success encourages confidence, and we begin to relax and trust ourselves to handle life events sober.

Of course, shocks and setbacks can happen at any point in our recovery. Sickness and bereavement are sadly inevitable, and terrible physical or psychological curve balls are always possible. But we grow into the understanding that whatever the situation, drinking alcohol will never help. It’s empowering.

Sobriety becomes a state of ongoingness rather than a long-awaited goal.

I remember how daunting a year without drinking seemed when I first tried to stop. It’s a noteworthy goal, often chosen after we try, fail, and finally pass many smaller milestones. The first year of sobriety is something we work hard to build from a long series of achievements.

If we’re fortunate, and being sober ‘sticks’, it transforms into something we’re being rather than doing. Milestones are still acknowledged and celebrated, but they feel less critical. I’ve noticed I now flow through them rather than pulling towards them.

I’ve stopped being aware of my day count, relying on an app when I’m occasionally curious. On the 26th of each month, I take a moment to be grateful for another month of freedom, but sometimes, I forget.

Sobriety has become a new normal for me and many of my friends. I’m thankful it’s now an ongoing state of freedom.

I need less daily support.

My primary recovery support and connection source has been via social media (mainly Instagram). Although I was always a relatively moderate user of sober social media, I now feel less like I need it for accountability and support. I still love the interactions, but it feels more like a social thing than a lifeline.

I’ve noticed that others often drift away from Instagram at eighteen months. Some occasionally post to say, ‘Don’t worry, I’m not drinking. I’m too busy getting on with my new fabulous sober life to post much’. I smile every time I see a successful escape from the alcohol trap.

It’s less worrying when people post infrequently at this stage. In the early months, when this happens, it’s usually pretty obvious they’ve gone back to drinking. I did this repeatedly when writing an old blog. Sometimes, people suddenly disappear, or their account is closed. Other times, after a few months, they reappear, battered and bruised but ready to try again.

My FOMO has gone.

I now have no desire to drink. Alcohol holds no excitement or appeal. I’ve entirely accepted it has nothing to offer me because I’ve seen through its deceitful marketing and BS. Any perceived benefits are so short-lived and come at too high a price on my physical and mental health to be worth it. I finally know this to my core.

I’m happy with alcohol-free drinks when I socialise, and when my partner drinks in front of me, I don’t envy him. I no longer want to spend time in drinking-focused environments, and I’m fortunate to have amazing friends who understand and support my sobriety. Coffee, meals, walks and films are our favourite meet-ups now, and they’re far more satisfying than getting drunk together.

I don’t take for granted that I’ll never again want a drink, but I can’t remember the last time I thought about having one. By eighteen months, I’d had enough experience and done enough research to feel confident to face down any occasional future bursts of FOMO.

Staying sober is no longer my main focus.

On this topic, the recovery community splits into two camps. One declares that sobriety should be a lifelong daily focus and that staying sober takes constant effort and vigilance. They identify that all the good things go away without sobriety, meaning it should come first. I respect that this is the best approach for many people and support their choice, but I need a different path.

The other camp finds that rejecting alcohol becomes easier over time. As we remain alcohol-free, life expands to become fuller, brighter and more exciting. We reconnect with the deeper selves we were before alcohol made us small. We learn and grow and experience aha moments. Our confidence and self-esteem rise as we blossom into a beautiful new post-alcohol life.

As this life expansion happens, we become stronger and more self-assured, making alcohol seem smaller and weaker. It recedes into the background as exciting sober activities and opportunities become the dominant focus in our lives.

Sometimes, people stay focused on sobriety not because they need it themselves but as an act of service to others. Some amazing sober peers are inspired to continuously communicate the benefits of an alcohol-free life to support newcomers. Some become vocal activists and advocates against big alcohol and its powerful and well-funded influence on society. I applaud the crucial efforts of these powerful and intelligent voices of reason.

In my experience, at one year, I was still immersed in everything sobriety-related. At around eighteen months, I found that my sobriety had shifted to become just one aspect of a larger life picture. It’s important to me, and I’ll never take it for granted, but I no longer want it to be my main focus.

Concentration, focus and creativity are all improved.

I created weekly comic strips for structure and accountability when I stopped drinking. They fulfilled this need for eighteen months and taught me I could reliably focus on a creative goal. I started to believe in my creative abilities again, and I’ve developed a stronger connection with a deeper source of inspiration. It’s taking me in unexpected new directions.

As my preoccupation with staying sober wanes, I focus on using my creativity to promote and support thriving in a healthy, awakening, post-alcohol life. I’ve started a YouTube channel called Sensory Sonic, making audio for healing, meditation and relaxation. I plan to take courses in teaching meditation and in hypnotherapy and CBT to complement this.

Creatively, my world has exploded, and I have the concentration and focus needed to appreciate this fully. The sober me is creating in ways that the drinking version of me could never have envisioned.

Natural Joy Has returned.

It’s becoming increasingly clear that my reward system has regained balance. When we frequently use substances to raise our dopamine levels artificially, we lose the ability to appreciate everyday things. We fall into the trap of believing we need alcohol to feel good or make life more enjoyable.

I now experience rushes of joy and satisfaction in surprisingly mundane moments. The things I spent decades avoiding or ‘spicing up’ with alcohol aren’t as dull as I mistakenly assumed. With the right mindset — and a reset reward system — simple things can be sources of child-like everyday wonder. Morning sunshine, a coffee break, reading, learning, creative inspiration, meditation, walking in nature, and simply hanging out with my people (or my cat) are all sources of pleasure in my life.

Even in less ideal situations, I feel more acceptance and equanimity. It’s easier to handle my job and the complicated interactions that come with it. I can better tolerate uncertainty and deal with annoying or challenging things as they crop up. There’s more peace, less drama, more ease, less anxiety, more curiosity, less boredom, and more productivity, less procrastination.

Life hasn’t suddenly become perfect; it’s still a balancing act, but it leans towards being lighter, more positive and naturally joyful. I follow my curiosity and keep an open mind about what an alcohol-free future could bring.


So, if we’re fortunate and our sobriety ‘sticks’, things will likely feel different at eighteen months compared with a year. Getting to one year sober required an act of faith. When I first stopped drinking, other than brief pink-cloud moments, there was a lot of grey flatness to wade through. After years of trying and failing to stop drinking, I knew I didn’t want to die by poisoning myself, but I couldn’t understand how to live committedly and happily sober.

That first year was an intensely practical course on how to do this. Fear got me started, determination (and stubbornness) kept me going, and the breakthroughs, realisations, and milestones added up. Twelve months of continuous sobriety changed from a hard-to-imagine, long-awaited goal to a stable foundation. From this foundation, I found the courage and hope to believe I could love my sobriety.

The second year continues to be transformative. At almost twenty-one months, I’ve found stability and progressed to exploring new ways to thrive and grow in a sober future. It’s exciting. I’m happy with my choice, and my only regret is that I didn’t do this sooner.

Back when I was just starting, I remember hearing sobriety advocates tout the excellent benefits of an alcohol-free life, and although I didn’t doubt their sincerity, I thought, ‘Pfft! I’ll believe it when I see it!’ Many of us fear we might be different, don’t deserve it, or don’t believe that it’ll happen to us. But it does, eventually.

So, as final words of encouragement, I say, ‘Believe it’. Because if you keep going through the darker, doubting times where your way ahead is unclear, you will see it. It takes time, but you will see it in the end. I promise. Dig deep, hang in there, and give it a chance.

600 Days

Another day, another sobriety milestone

Image by the author

It’s been a while since I did a milestone post. They come far less frequently the further along we get. At one time, 600 days seemed like an unimaginable time to go without alcohol. I would often crumble on day 6 of my early attempts. But here I am, happy and comfortable in my new not-drinking normal. 

It does get easier over time, and it’s worth the effort to get through the early struggles and doubts to reach this point. Nothing’s perfect, but everything’s better than when I was drinking. 

I’m on day 2 of no coffee and just starting to shake the lethargic feeling that has had me dozing on and off for the last 48 hours. I was badly craving a cup yesterday to ‘perk me up’ but stayed strong and said no. Amazingly I haven’t had any headaches, so I’m thankful for that. The extra rest was nice too.

Happy sober weekend to you x

Affirmation Hesitations

A comic strip about mindful self-talk and our subconscious.

I’ve been playing around with affirmations this week. I had an idea to make affirmation videos, so I started writing some. It turns out it’s pretty easy to do these badly and send the wrong message to our subconscious.

As I wrote some bad ones, I noticed they sounded like how I would talk to myself when I first tried to stop drinking. It was a bit of an aha moment. I’d say to myself things like, ‘I WON’T drink’, not realising my subconscious would erase the ‘won’t’. I kept telling it, ‘I drink’.

It’s a fascinating subject, and this artwork is my very amateur exploration of it. I wish I’d understood this better at the beginning of my sober journey. I think it would have helped.

I haven’t been online much in the last week or two, so I hope everybody’s well and heading into a lovely weekend x

Pausing And Reflecting

And making new plans and goals.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my future goals in life. Spending less time online is great for that, but I have missed keeping up with everybody.

I’ve known for years I’ve needed to do some retraining, but because it has to be something I’m going to love and not just something I do for the money, I’ve so far never decided on (or stuck with) anything. I think I have a plan now, though.

I want to do a meditation teacher training course, followed by a combined hypnotherapy and CBT course. Maybe I’ll add breathwork training later, too. You get the idea.

Ideally, I’ll combine this knowledge with my illustration, animation, audio, video and written creativity to make lots of helpful, accessible tools and services.

It’s great in theory, but I’m aware it’s a big commitment both in time and financially. It’s the first plan in years that’s really inspired me, so I think it will be worth it.

This is partly why I’m making a YouTube channel. I’ve been working hard on that, and I’ll be introducing it soon. It’s already up and running, but I’m waiting until I have a few more videos live. It feels like back when I put my first comic strips online, but much harder, because it’s using a load of new skills.

Have a great sober weekend, everybody x

Alcohol-Free Skin

An Example of sober healing.

The most visible improvement to happen to me now I’m living an alcohol-free life is the change in my skin. I’d struggled for years with worsening flare-ups, and they were becoming painful, unsightly and having so much broken skin was an infection risk. 

I’m unsure if it’s eczema or psoriasis, but all I ever received from doctors were prescriptions for steroid creams (which come with side effects) and greasy emollients (which made it worse). I always want to know why something’s happening rather than dousing down symptoms with medications. Alcohol was getting in the way of me doing this.

Now that I’m sober, I’m not consistently stressing my immune system by poisoning my body, which must have helped. I’ve identified dietary triggers and had the discipline to avoid them. Slowly, the terrible sores have cleared. It’s a huge relief not to have skin that scares small children anymore!

It’s not perfect. I still get minor flare-ups in my hairline and on my hands, but I’m now confident things are roughly under control–completely steroid free. It’s yet another win for alcohol-free living.

Pressing Pause

A comic strip about taking time out to refocus

For the last 18 months, my priority has been to get and stay sober. My comic strips have played a significant role in making this happen, but now it feels like time to pause. I plan to continue making them, but I need to work out where I’m going with them.

I’m also dealing with many lifey things at the moment. I’m still struggling with back and knee injuries, causing me problems at work. It’s becoming increasingly clear my heavy-lifting job isn’t going to suit me for much longer.

My brain is on fire with ideas and enthusiasm at the moment. I credit sobriety for this. I’m revisiting old skills and learning new ones to hopefully create a better way of paying the bills. I’m doing a proofreading and editing course, starting a YouTube channel, and considering doing other retraining courses later this year. It all takes a lot of time.

I’ll repost some early comic strips sometimes and do some new types of posts. I’m not disappearing; just taking time to refocus and work on new ventures. I’ll probably be around more often if each post doesn’t take so much time and effort.

Brain Farts—Episode One

A comedy strip about those annoying senior moments.

Even this long sober, my brain still has its comedy moments. I don’t know if it’s my age (perimenopausal) or the hot weather (I become dysfunctional above 25 degrees), but this week I’ve been the queen of brain farts. Blank stares. Journeys to other rooms for mysterious, forgotten reasons. Lack of focus and mental energy.

Oh well, it could be worse. At least I’m not still battering my ageing brain cells with alcohol.