Why I finally decided to quit drinking alcohol

About 15 years ago, I did something very dumb.

I was still young and I was completely miserable at work. I knew I had chosen the wrong career despite having just started it. I was good at my job and was something of a star employee for someone in their early 20s, despite my dislike of it. My happiness and job satisfaction plummeted further thanks in large part to one boss who bullied his staff on an almost daily basis.

I teetered a bit, then moved into a position where I was happier, but I was still very depressed and unsatisfied.

So one night after work (I was on evening hours at the time), I decided to try what I’d seen on TV and in movies a million times.

In university, I’d drink alcohol once a week with my friends at the bar or whatever. When I wasn’t in that situation, I didn’t give alcohol a second thought. And it stayed that way until that one night, when I did that one dumb thing.

Sitting on top of our fridge was a bottle of whiskey that had been left over from some previous party or visit and that had sat dormant for some time. I went over, put a couple of ice cubes in a glass, and poured myself just one drink.

I sat back on the couch, picked up by book, and sipped on the dark liquid. Oh so sophisticated! I felt relaxed and happy, and I thought that if I could end every day like this, it would solve all my problems.