The Tug-of-War Between Desire and Reason in Early Sobriety

I remember it like it was yesterday. The sun beating down on my skin, its warmth starkly contrasted to the cold sweat breaking out on my palms. The smell of sizzling burgers wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of spilt beer and the sharp tang of sunscreen. Laughter echoed around me, a cacophony of joy that felt somehow distant as if I were underwater. There I sat, three days into my sobriety journey, clutching a non-alcoholic beer like it was my lifeline in a stormy sea of temptation.

My eyes, traitors to my cause, kept wandering, drawn irresistibly to the sweating glasses of wine and beer dotting the tables around me. Each seemed to glow with an otherworldly allure, beckoning me with promises of relief from the tension coiling in my gut. The struggle was real, folks, and it was happening right there in broad daylight, under the unforgiving glare of the summer sun. Every fibre of my being screamed for just one sip, one moment of sweet release. But I knew, deep down, that one sip would never be enough. It had never been before.

Phew that got me all hot and bothered.

The Siren Song of the Bottle

Let me tell you, there’s something downright hypnotic about alcohol when you’re trying to quit. It’s like your senses develop a mind of their own, constantly seeking out those liquid temptations with an almost primal hunger. How condensation beads on a cold glass, each droplet a tiny mirror reflecting your desire. The amber glow of whiskey catching the sunlight, transforming an ordinary drink into liquid gold. It’s a visual feast that tugs at your resolve, each glance a battle against your better judgment.

But it’s not just about the sight. Oh no, it’s a total sensory assault. The crisp hiss of a can opening, the gentle pop of a cork leaving a bottle — these sounds can send shivers down your spine, awakening memories of past indulgences. And the smell… oh, the smell. The sharp bite of tequila, the warm, woody aroma of bourbon, the crisp, clean scent of vodka — each a siren song to your nostrils, promising comfort and escape.

It’s a sensual experience, this craving. A dance of desire and denial that engages every part of you. Your skin tingles with the memory of that warm flush that follows the first drink. Your muscles relax at the mere thought of that liquid relaxation. It’s as if your body is staging a full-blown mutiny against your mind’s resolve, every cell crying out for just one more taste, one more night of abandon. These sensory experiences are what the Stoics called ‘impressions’ — vivid mental images that can trigger our desires. The key is learning to pause before automatically assenting to these impressions.

This, my friends, is the true power of addiction. It’s not just a mental battle but a physical one, too. A war waged on multiple fronts, with your senses as the foot soldiers of temptation. And in those early days of sobriety, when your defences are at their weakest, it can feel like an unwinnable fight. But trust me when I say it’s a battle worth fighting. Because on the other side of this struggle lies a clarity and peace that no bottle can ever provide

The Cognitive Conundrum

Now, here’s where things get interesting (and by interesting, I mean frustrating as hell). Logically, I knew alcohol had caused me problems. I had a mental list as long as my arm full of reasons why I quit. Yet there was this annoying little voice whispering, “But wouldn’t just one be nice?” This, my friends, is cognitive dissonance in action — when your beliefs and desires are locked in an epic tug-of-war.

Our brains have this infuriating way of romanticizing the past. We tend to remember the good times, the laughter, the sense of ease that came with drinking. What we conveniently forget are the skull-crushing hangovers, the cringe-worthy texts, and that time, we tried to convince a lamppost it was our long-lost cousin. This selective memory can make alcohol seem like an old friend we’re missing out on rather than the toxic ex it is.

Here’s a mind-bender for you: sometimes, the anticipation of pleasure can be more enticing than the pleasure itself. Epictetus, a wise Stoic dude, had something to say about this. He suggested that when we’re tempted by pleasure, we should pause and compare the joy of giving in to the satisfaction of resisting. It’s like choosing between a moment of “Woo-hoo!” followed by a week of “Oh no,” or a moment of “Damn it” followed by a lifetime of “Hell yeah!” When I put it that way, the choice seems pretty clear.

Breaking the Spell

How do we snap out of this alcohol-induced trance? For me, it was ice cream. Yep, you heard that right. When I found myself coveting thy neighbour’s booze, I redirected that craving towards something sweet and decidedly non-alcoholic. Sometimes, you need to outsmart your cravings with a bit of distraction and a whole lot of sugar. It’s about finding that thing that can pull you back from the edge, even if it means embracing your inner child and diving headfirst into a pint of Cookie Dough.

The Power of Small Actions

A little trick I’ve been trying to use: focus on the most minor possible actions. It’s easy to get overwhelmed when we think about staying sober forever. But what if we break it down into tiny, manageable steps? Marcus Aurelius, another wise guy from ancient times, suggested building our lives “action by action”. It’s like constructing a massive building, brick by boring brick. Each time I resist a craving, no matter how small, I’m laying another brick in my sobriety foundation.

Instead of fixating on never drinking again, I concentrate on the next five minutes, the next hour, or just getting through today. It’s about shifting my attention to what’s right before me rather than getting lost in the big picture. And you know what? Those small victories add up. They build momentum, and before you know it, you’ve created something truly impressive.

‘Concentrate every minute on doing what’s in front of you with precise and genuine seriousness, tenderly, willingly, with justice.’ — Marcus Aurelius

Life will throw obstacles our way—that’s a given. The key is to accept these hurdles for what they are and pivot to the action that aligns with our goal. Maybe I can’t control my friends' drinking around me, but I can control my decision to order a mocktail or step outside for some fresh air.

The Path Forward

Cravings are tricky beasts, often leaving us feeling helpless and confused. They can make us question our resolve, sanity, and ability to resist that enticing glass of wine. But here’s the thing: every time we resist, we’re saying no to a drink and yes to ourselves. We’re choosing self-respect over momentary pleasure and long-term health over short-term highs. In these moments of struggle, it’s crucial to remember that philosophy isn’t just a lofty academic pursuit. It’s a practical tool, a medicine for the soul.

The key is to stay active in our rescue. It’s not enough to read about sobriety or collect inspirational quotes for some far-off future. We need to put our knowledge into action to transform words into works. This means developing practical strategies to combat cravings, like my ice cream distraction technique, and building new habits that reinforce our commitment to sobriety. Remember, the foundation of a sound mind is not finding joy in useless things.

So the next time you find yourself staring longingly at a glass of wine, pause. Take a deep breath. Remind yourself of your commitment to sobriety and the reasons behind it. Your cravings might be loud, but your resolve can be louder. And who knows? You might find that the sweetest victory is the one you win over yourself.

As Epictetus said, ‘It’s not things that upset us, but our judgments about things.’ By changing our judgments about alcohol, we can change our relationship with it.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with a pint of ice cream and a good book on Stoicism. Here’s to making it through another day sober, one scoop and one page at a time!