The Summer of Breaking Rules

Why I started drinking again after three years of being sober.

This June marked my three year anniversary of being sober. It was also the first time I had a drink in three years.

I first stopped drinking for my own health reasons. Because of my uveitis, whenever I drank, I felt my floaters in my eyes get worse. This meant that sometimes, the next day, I could barely see anything — black spots in my vision would make it nearly impossible to function.

My floaters would worsen when I had gluten as well, and so I went gluten free. Another reason that added to my decision was that I was on methotrexate for several years, a pill form of chemotherapy that doesn’t allow you to drink, and this added to my decision, or medical necessity, to stay sober.

While I initially stopped drinking because of my own health restrictions, I found that as I eased into sobriety, I really loved how it felt. In fact, once I was off methotrexate because it wasn’t helping my uveitis, my doctors even told me I could resume drinking, but it was my decision to stay sober. 

Yes, I felt physically better from not drinking, but also I was more confident and at ease socially, without needing alcohol to have a good time. At first, however, it was extremely uncomfortable. I’d order a drink just to have something in my hand so people wouldn’t ask why I wasn’t drinking. Then, I was gradually aware of how my not drinking made others feel self-conscious that they were drinking. How embedded alcohol had become in our culture of socializing that it alarmed someone if you weren’t partaking.

But slowly, I pushed past how uncomfortable it made others feel, and just focused on how it made me feel. I even noticed people commending me on not drinking. It encouraged first dates to be more creative than just offering to “grab drinks.” If I found myself uncomfortable in a social situation, I was able to trust that feeling more, rather than just drinking and ignoring it. But more than anything, I was doing this for myself. I was listening to my body telling me, quite clearly, that drinking wasn’t a good idea.

Then, almost three years ago, I got a series of eye surgeries - one was a Retisert implant that they inserted in the back of my eyes. But another surgery was a vitrectomy, which literally removed the floaters I have been seeing for the past seven years of my life.

With my newly clear vision, I even started by having gluten again— and miraculously, I was okay. I didn’t see floaters anymore. I was shocked.

Because my eyes were doing so well, I was scared to drink again, too. I didn’t want to jinx myself or make my health worse in any way, when I had worked so hard to get to this stable place.

And so, I stayed sober. But there were other new rules that came with my surgeries, and they imposed new restrictions I had to always keep in mind.

Because of my implants, I could no longer do anything high impact like surfing, in case a board hit me or moved my implants in some way. I couldn’t scuba dive again, because of what the change in pressure could do to my eyes. I can never go a day without my eye drops, which regulated my eye pressure. I couldn’t do yoga anymore, or at least downward dog, because the inversion wouldn’t be good for my implants. I couldn’t swim in any body of water anymore without goggles, in case it could lead to an infection. (This is also the reason many people always think I am just very committed to snorkeling).

There is so much I am grateful for — these surgeries saved my vision and gave me my freedom back in a way I could never have imagined.

But sometimes, keeping all these rules top of mind could feel exhausting. I had been hyper vigilant for so long, but it was starting to weigh on me. I just wanted to be a little careless for once. After all, I was feeling better. Maybe this meant my hard work had paid off.

So, this past June, as my three year anniversary of sobriety was approaching, I found myself staying at a residency in the French countryside. One day, they invited me to local wine maker’s home for a tasting, and I decided to go along and try some wine.

This didn’t come so much from a desire to drink, but a desire to not keep so many rules top of mind at all times, and just feel free. Because while hyper-vigilance is necessary when you have a chronic illness, it can also wear you down after a while. 

Having a drink for the first time, I both felt guilty for “losing” three years of effort to stay sober, and also, deeply relieved. It was one less tiny thing I was worried about, or holding myself back from, because of my health.

Now, of course, I want to clarify that I would never encourage anyone to drink after being sober if that isn’t right for them. It is still a very important and personal choice.

But for me, it was a different situation where I stopped because of medical reasons, and now, to me, it felt these reasons had changed. My floaters were gone, and my vision was stable. I was so used to living in fear for the past few years, always being mindful to do the right thing to stay healthy.

But then, I thought, what if I’m… okay?

What if having a single glass of wine wouldn’t set back all my hard work, as I had feared, but life would continue on as before?

While drinking the wine itself was fine— I’ve honestly never been much of a drinker anyway — what was more exciting was breaking one of the many health rules I always had to keep in mind.

I’m not saying to break all these rules that you know to be good for you. These rules exist fo a reason. But if you feel you will be okay and trust it in your body, maybe it’s ok to break a rule now and then. 

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Two weeks ago, I went to see one of my eye doctors to check in and see how I was doing. I braced myself for the worst, but he told me that my eyes had never looked better. They were free from inflammation, and in fact, it looked like maybe the uveitis had burned itself out and I wouldn’t need another surgery after all.

There was always the possibility of this, but when I was first learning about these surgeries, I was told there was a very slim chance. Retisert implants have about a three year life span, and my three year anniversary was coming up this November. It’s been a huge source of fear ever since I got them in - that while it was great that I was feeling better, I was always afraid for them to run out. That would mean surgery all over again.

So, the fact that my eyes were still stable was huge. It meant that maybe… I really was okay.

I left the appointment, stunned. I got myself a congratulatory bubble tea and called my best friend, Amanda, who cried right away at the news. Then, I called my mom, who also cried, wishing we were together for this moment. It’s a shocking thing to hear, when doctors have been telling me for the past ten years of my life that there will never be a solution. It’s why it’s so hard for me to believe when things are good- because many times in my medical life, everything has been subject to change, often times for the worse. But this time, I was trying to believe that I was really better. Because I felt it, too.

I still know that it’s possible my uveitis can always worsen. But for now, I can exist in this place where I feel safe. And why not spend this limited time we have being happy, rather than living in fear? In a way, it’s the same reason I decided to have a glass of wine. It just feels like one less thing to feel fearful of.

Now, almost two months after breaking my sobriety, I still have some soft rules. I don’t want to try anything more than wine or beer, and no more than an occasioanal glass or two. I’m easing myself back in, in moderation.

I still enjoy going out and being sober. And I’m thankful that these last few years have taught me how to feel more confident in who I am without alcohol to rely on. But maybe breaking the rules every now and then could be good for you, too.

Love,

Julia