It’s currently 3:46 in the morning and I can’t sleep. My mind will not let me which happens to be the most annoying part of being a “creative”. Some of the things I’m thinking about (all of the time) are important – work, friends, family, if the zit on my chin will be gone by the time I see that cute guy at Whole Foods again – others are not at all. Unfortunately, it’s the things that aren’t that important that I can’t seem to shake so I can start dreaming.
At the beginning of 2017, I scoured my social channels to learn who was resolving to what for the year. Who wanted to lose weight? Who was going to be more patient? Who did I need to mute on Facebook immediately? This year, more so than others, I found myself intrigued by those who were committed to “Sober January” meaning they were giving up alcohol for the entire first month of the year. I became curious if I would ever be able to refrain from wine for thirty days. Which was immediately followed by, “Well, it’s my birthday in January and my friends will definitely want to celebrate, so I can’t do it then” and then, “I have guests coming in February and how boring would I be if I were sober when they were here?” In other words, the thought of giving up wine was so overwhelming I could come up with an excuse to get out of it every month of the year.
Regardless of my next brilliant excuse (March is the third month of the year and three is a lucky number so I have to drink totally works, right?) when my last guest left LA in February, I decided that March would be the month I devoted to not drinking alcohol. For thirty-one days, I would be sober. Of course, I picked the longest month of the year to attempt this. Rookie move. That being said, as this is published, I am one week away from successfully accomplishing a “Dry March” and I feel incredible. For the most part. More to come from me on that front when I make it the full month.
What I quickly came to find out in quitting cold turkey is that I needed a distraction when I wanted to pour a glass of wine. Or a mimosa on Saturday morning, obviously. The distractions that were the most appealing to me were to sweat or freeze. Seriously. But like it’s better than picking up smoking, right?
Before “Dry March” I was working out and taking care of my skin every day already because when you’re thirty you have to do those things unfortunately, so it’s not like this is a totally new thing. I will admit, though, that it has become much more of a talking point for me, since besides writing or working, it is really all I’ve been doing. In addition to what had become my usual workout routine, I’ve fallen head-over-heels in love with a new group fitness class and added things like floating in 1,000 pounds of Epsom salt for an hour. And sitting in Infrared Saunas. I have actively stood in a machine that freezes my body to below negative two hundred degrees and worn face masks that keep my face in place for a good 7 minutes. I’ve done jumping jacks and mountain climbers on a machine that vibrates. And I’ve loved all of it. So much so, that I’ve shared most of it on social media. Actually, all of it,
That being said, there have been two very different reactions from people that are choosing to follow along. Key word: choosing. The first being immense support and love which is amazing and enormously appreciated because not every day of this has been easy or fun.
However, the other has been a lot of really discouraging comments. Some suggesting that I find something else to talk about, others believe I should take into consideration that a lot of people can’t afford these luxuries (I’m not sure who thinks having their ass kicked for upwards of four hours a day is a luxury, but what do I know?) Earlier this week, I was told that I was more fun to follow when I did things outside of “worrying about what my body looks like”. Which, I will say is pretty incredible after 3 weeks of not drinking and all of the aforementioned activity, thank you very much.
All that being said, here’s the thing. The bottom line, if you will. If you don’t care about or support what it is that I, or anyone else you actively follow online to be quite frank, is doing – don’t fucking look at it. It’s really that simple.