In Pictures: The Amazing Effects Of Quitting Booze

Sup!

When I first started this blog, back in 2016 (at 1yr sober), my intention was always to take it beyond the boundaries of just my own experiences. One bloke’s perspective is fine for a while, but it can start to become stale for 2 main reasons:

  1. The path that you walk, through problem drinking and then into sobriety, will more than likely resonate with some people, but you’re unlikely to be in a position that you can relate to all booze-issue experiences – for example: the whole ‘wine o’clock school-run mums’ thing is pretty alien to me, as is the idea of needing to drink every morning before facing the world. However! I can write all day long about weekend binges and doing silly things like getting your pink bits out in inappropriate public venues – so blogging ones own views can be a bit one-dimensional and blinkered.
  2. Man, I’ve already written nearly 100 blogs on this subject (including a few articles for magazines etc…) – so that’s probably like 200,000 words about ME and MY THOUGHTS. At some point, I’m going to run out of things to say (oh precious day)…

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Sober Festivalling: Surviving The Messy Twats In Bucket Hats

Man! It’s been a LONG time since I’ve found a spare minute to do some writing. Let me tell you a bit about what I’ve been up to:

  • Trying to buy a house. Been trying since Xmas. Still trying. Fuck estate agents, and absolutely FUCK solicitors. All of them. In their buttholes. Forever and ever. Amen.
  • Working. Always. On projects at work, and projects at home. Until eventually I will die and then (maybe) I can stop working.
  • Running and climbing. I’ve climbed 2 or 3 times per week since I first discovered it about 4 years ago, and I’ll probably always climb because I fucking love that shit, but RUNNING I totally fell out with last year after doing a few half marathons and then getting dismayed with the amount of training needed to increase my fitness – so I quit, got fat, got upset about being fat, and now I’m BACK baby. And actually, I’ve really missed it – not just the fitness aspect, but also it’s nice to get 30 minutes alone with your thoughts whilst you pound the pavements. I use this time to ponder the important questions in life, like WHY DID I CALL MY TEACHER ‘MUM’ THAT TIME WHEN I WAS TWELVE AND THE WHOLE CLASS HEARD ME GAHHHH.
  • Eating. Hence the return to running.
  • Telly. Watching and re-watching the holy quaternity of comedy programmes:
  • Gigs. Not got to as many gigs as I usually do, but HOLY GLITTERY SHITBALLS we saw Rammstein at our local arena a few months back and the German bastards blew my cock and balls RIGHT OFF and also singed my pubes too with their massive flamethrowers. There’s just a burned, bloody stump there now.
  • Weddings. It’s been awesome to see a couple of old mates get hitched, and I managed to survive both weddings completely sober. BOOM.
  • Waiting. For the British ice hockey season to start again. I am so excite. So, so excite.

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D.O.A: Sober Firsts Of A Proper Punk Rocker

You guys might remember that a couple of years back I interviewed Mike Hodsall, British-born bass guitarist extraordinaire for legendary Canadian punkers D.O.A, here on this very website (you can read the interview HERE). Well, since then Mike has pushed forwards fiercely with his sober-journey, and is currently within a pube-width of nailing his 3 year soberversary!! Mike is a fucking top dude, and as a proper balls-to-the-wall-punker-gone-sober-but-still-killing-it he’s a genuine card-carrying authority on how to live life PROPERLY and with NO COMPROMISES. I’m therefore turbo-chuffed that Mike chose SoberPunks as his means by which to share his musings about getting sober with the world. Put on your helmet, grab the lube, and brace yourself. It’s Mike time…

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Sobriety & Empathy: The Motorway Tailgating Paradox

Picture the scene…

It’s Monday evening, 17:30, and you’ve just joined the traffic on the M1 motorway to make your journey home after a fucking horrendous day at work. You spent the weekend hitting the booze hard (like Oliver Reed on his birthday hard), and as a result you’re still hanging like a bastard, and the lack of proper sleep has made you cranky and irritable. Your stomach’s rumbling because you stayed in bed this morning until the last possible moment, negating any possibility of you having time to pack your usual sad little cheese sandwich and bag of Seabrook Beefy, and your car’s engine management light has just come on, looking like a bright yellow Xmas illumination against the grey, dreary, grim backdrop of the motorway on such a cold, drizzly night. Continue reading

Join The NEW SoberPunks Gang!

Hi everyone,

This isn’t really a proper blog post, but rather an invitation to join our new Facebook group SOBERPUNKS GANG.

The idea is simple – it’s a group aimed solely at people who are either sober, or trying to get sober, and who need a place to connect with other people in the same boat. The group was set up a couple of weeks ago, and we already have over 200 members – with lots of good discussion and debate going on. Lot’s of really REALLY terrible jokes and memes on there too. Continue reading

Sobriety & Ducks: Becoming A Proper Human

The office where I work, tucked away on a pleasant little industrial estate in Northampton, is surrounded by natural beauty. The area itself is called ‘The Lakes’, which gives you an idea of what to expect, and one amazing side effect of it’s location is that we get an abundance of wildlife – more than you would ever expect to see so close to busy roads and office buildings. Continue reading

Woken Up In A Bush With No Trousers? Here’s Your ‘QUITTING BOOZE DAY ONE ACTION PLAN’

Okay, so last night you REALLY fucked up. You’ve woken up in a bad place – possibly both mentally (oh the paranoia!) and geographically (wtf why am I in a zoo!) – and you’ve finally decided that enough is enough. The booze buzz is more hassle than it’s worth. You’ve ruined too many relationships, wasted too much money, knocked over too many tables, bruised too many knees, and shagged too many mingers. Continue reading

Golfers Are Dicks (And Other Reasons I Drank)

I’ve spent a bit of time recently mulling over the reasons that I ever got into this unhealthy relationship with the booze. When I look back at some of the lads I grew up with, and have known since being six or seven years old, there’s no huge difference in the way our lives progressed. So why was it me that ended up taking the whole thing a bit too far? Why did I think it was funny to drink an entire bottle of Jagermeister and then expose myself to a packed room of rock fans in a pub in Scotland? Why did I get landed with the drinking problem? Why not them bastards?

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