I Couldn’t Really Help It, I Was Pissed Out Of My Head

There’s a lot written about the benefits of sobriety. Indeed, I’m personally responsible for contributing towards this ever-growing pile of woolly guff; endless reams of words spewing from laptops all over the world, about how stopping drinking will clear up your spotty skin, and help you lose 5 stone in 3 months, and turn you from debt-ridden scum into a highly respected business magnate overnight. There’s the health benefits, the financial benefits, the brain-sharpening benefits, the depression-killing benefits. Being sober will help you to work harder, to shag better, to live longer, and to look handsomer (it’s a real word, I googled it). People have published books about this shit. They’ve made TV programmes and podcasts. Businesses have been founded, and are now thriving, which focus solely on sharing the good word of sober living. It’s like a magic pill that fixes everything! Everyone in the world of sobriety wants to shout about their new lifestyle, their new look. HEY EVERYONE LOOK AT WHAT SOBRIETY CAN TURN YOU INTO! LOOK AT MY SUITCASE OF MONEY! CHECK OUT MY SOFT HAIR! But let’s not forget, amidst this pink mire of yoga trousers, ultra-marathon runners, and vegan cookbooks, one of the most primal and basic benefits that quitting drinking can bring; the one benefit that is quite often the catalyst for a lifetime of sobriety. That one golden nugget for which we all strive, and which only sobriety can truly bring us…

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