Alcohol-Free Diary

Since the beginning of 2024, I’ve been cheering myself along, jotting down thoughts in connection to my relationship with alcohol. It all started with Dry January. Some may think that sharing my personal diary is a bad idea, but sharing my truth takes courage, and vulnerability connects us, so I have no shame. We’re all human. I started the year strong, slipped into a slump, and began again. Perhaps you’ll find something here that helps you with a journey of your own.

January 1

I almost justified drinking today because it’s a holiday, but the thoughts were fleeting. Day 1 down.

January 6

I’m 54. Outside of two pregnancies, this is my fourth alcohol free month (non-consecutive) since age 18. I started Reframe (an app to help me decrease alcohol consumption) in November on the cutback plan, without success. I gave up through the holidays and planned for Dry January. This is the first time I haven’t had cravings. I’ve been praying for myself (another breakthrough for me), and it works.

January 7

About 4 months ago, I started a dance class that includes some yoga, martial arts, mindfulness, and joy. I always leave feeling strong and centered. There are only three classes per week, one on Sunday, so I was headed there this morning. But—I had a flat tire before leaving my neighborhood. Muah. Muah. ☹️

I returned home disappointed and opted for online church. It was a message on changing your life by changing your habits. (Click HERE to view.)

No matter what you believe, there is good common sense in this message. And I’ve had some divine help over the past 7 days. Peace and hope for the journey.

January 9

9 Days. My longest AF (Alcohol Free) streak since April 2020. I began mental preparation for January back in November when I gave up tracking my drinks. I started 2024 believing in the following:

the power of intention
do-overs
progress over perfection
kindness and compassion for self and others
one day at a time
asking God for help with all of the above

January 11

In August 2022, I was diagnosed with Stage 1 breast cancer found through a routine mammogram. I was lucky we found it early, and it’s gone now (or so I thought on January 11).

Anyway, that’s when I became aware of the CDC’s (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) guidelines for alcohol. One drink or less in a day for women. Two for men. “Ridiculous,” I thought.

After unsuccessfully trying to cut back, I said to myself, “Crystal, you are the ridiculous one. You only have one body. Why not treat it with tender-loving care?” It took me 54 years to realize none is easier than one (at least for me), and I became sober curious. I found myself asking God for help. And lo and behold, I feel the divine help. I’m not ready to resolve that I will never have another drink, but I intend to keep praying for myself. So far. So good. I believe in one day at a time.

January 12

I heard on the radio this morning that the end of the second week in January is called Quitter Day. Statistically more people give up their goals today. If you remain alcohol free (or persist with any goal), you are officially among the elite.

January 13

Checked into a hotel for a Girls Weekend with friends. I was offered complimentary champagne or water, and I chose water.

January 15

“The power of intention is so doubt-deficient that when you’re connected to it you see what you’d like to have as already being present.”
Dr. Wayne Dyer

January 17

This past weekend, my lifelong friend Pamela was visiting from out of town. We attended Lakewood Church on Sunday.

Joel Osteen said, “Write your vision. Back it up with scripture.”

So here it goes:

I live a sober life that brings me clarity, health, peace, hope, joy, and love.

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
Jeremiah 29:11

Bring it, Day 17.

January 19

Weirdly I haven’t had many cravings. But—it’s Friday, so close to 5, and my husband has a drink in hand. 😳 I grabbed a LaCroix and squeezed a lime. It’s quite refreshing. 0 calories. 0 alcohol.

January 21

This morning I’m thankful for reframed perspectives, 3-weeks AF, and for the first time ever, this budding idea of a permanent change to my relationship with alcohol.

January 24

I attended a meeting on the app today and heard this:

“Progress over punishment.”

January 26

“Today is a gift and miracles are manifesting.” (Click HERE for more affirmations.)

January 29

This morning I’m reading The Untethered Soul (spiritual nonfiction) by Michael A. Singer. He says the mind is “very melodramatic (😂) … Just decide that no matter what the mind says, you aren’t getting involved.”

January 30

I always gain weight through the holidays. I. Just. Do.

But—so many of those calories are from drinking. I’m officially down 8 pounds and ready for Day 31. Then Day 32.

February 3

My dance class moved to a new bigger studio in January with many spaces and options. I bought a pass for unlimited classes in February. Today’s attempt: aerial conditioning.

It. Was. Hard.

The students and teacher were all 20-30 years younger than me. But I hung in there. Pun intended.

February 8

“The genius thing we did was, we didn’t give up.”
Jay Z

February 9

Do you know what the best exercise is?

Wait for it…

The one you will do.

This morning on my way home from my 8th dance class in 8 days, I was thinking back to 2019 when I was going to Boxing and Kickboxing classes. Kody wanted us to do this “together.” Guess who went most often. 🙋‍♀️ I shaped up but not joyfully. Wrapping my fists and wearing gloves was not my journey, and I’m thankful to find my own path. 40 days sober.

February 10

My dad says this about cigarettes, but it applies here:

“I was really good at quitting. I quit all the time.”

Every quit—even after a slip—strengthens those neural pathways. Day 41 alcohol free and working on me.

February 11

I realize life will always have ups and downs, but I’ve come to a place where whatever happens, it will be okay.

I’ve heard a Kristin Neff meditation twice now on Reframe where she encourages us to talk to ourselves like this:

This is hard right now,

but everyone goes through hard things.

May I be happy and well and kind to myself.

February 19

Celebrating Day 50! Woot Woot! 👏🏻

February 26

When 2024 started, I planned on Dry January, which morphed into AF February. March is still a maybe. As for Day 57, I will not drink with you.

The days add up. One at a time.

March 17

While a bit disappointed in my March non-drinking statistics, my reframed thought is…

I’m super excited to have 64 dry days in 2024. That. Is. progress.

April 5

2024 was off to the best start. 60 days AF until March 1. Then I struggled. Two vacations and a surgery in one month is atypical. Starting again. 67 days alcohol free today.

April 8

70 AF days out of 99 in 2024. That’s statistically better than any other year this century.

Progress.

One. Day. At. A. Time.

April 11

7 sober days in a row and more in April than all of March.

Celebrating the milestones. Warrior-ing on.

*****

My Take-Aways

I had some recent blood work. In comparison to previous labs, the tests show marked improvement, so there’s that.

In my down time and 73 extra days of clarity, I’ve contemplated self-kindness and concluded that it’s a combination of nurturing my body, mind, and spirit.

I’ve contemplated what it means to nurture the body and concluded it’s about exercise, nutrition, and hydration.

I’ve contemplated what it means to nurture the mind and concluded that it’s about surrounding myself with what lifts me up—people and podcasts, reading and music, sunshine and the great outdoors. It’s about living in the moment without dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. It’s about letting go of judgments, thoughts, and emotions that do not serve me.

I’ve contemplated what it means to nurture the spirit and concluded that it’s about spending time with God, meditating in gratitude, and loving and forgiving myself and others.

I’m on a journey to inner peace, healing, and wellbeing, advancing confidently in the direction of my dreams.

Thank you for reading and sharing my experience. I send extra love.

Be Someone


I count on one hand
my visits to Houston
before making the move
before my entire life changed. 

On a Union Pacific bridge
while driving south on 45, 
there’s a sign.

Some call it graffiti. 
I call it gritty.

Be Someone, it says.

It’s more than a sign,
The skyline stands stong behind.
A gateway for opportunity. 
A beacon for possibility. 
A call to action visible only
on the way in,
again and again 
like a mantra.

Be someone.

Be someone.

Be Someone.

Inspired by poets Gail Mazur, Langston Hughes, Gwendolyn Zepeda, Deborah D.E.E.P. Mouton and their poems about Houston, along with my good friend Dr. Doni Wilson who taught an outstanding Writespace workshop last weekend. I left buoyed by my possibilities.

Bring it, H-town.

The Intention

For years I’ve gone back and forth on New Year’s Resolutions—to make them or not. According to Ohio State University, research suggests that only 9% of Americans who make resolutions complete them, 23% of people quit their resolution by the end of the first week, and 43% quit by the end of January.

I’ve jumped on the Word-of-the-Year train—and off again. I have no problem in changing my mind. Change shows flexibility and growth. I like growth.

For 2024?

I believe in—

the power of intention
do-overs
progress over perfection
kindness and compassion for self and others
one day at a time
asking God for help with all of the above

I like the idea of the SMART goal. Is it—

Specific?
Measurable?
Achievable?
Realistic/Relevant?
Timely/Time-Bound?

To kick off this year, I’m taking on the 30-Day AB Challenge and Dry January. Week One. Check. Before February One, I’ll re-assess. The specificity. The measurability. The achievability. The realism and relevance. The timeliness.

Back in November, I downloaded an app called Reframe: Drink Less and Thrive. It provides daily science-backed reading about the psychology of drinking habits and effects of alcohol on the body. During the first week, this daily drinker (that’s me) had two alcohol-free days. The next week two more.

Progress.

Then I gave up. I made an excuse to stop tracking my drinks for my anniversar[ies], the holiday season, and my birthday month without guilt. I postponed my cut-back journey and set my intention on being alcohol free in January.

I’m 54. Since age 18, outside of two pregnancies, I’ve had three other sober months, maybe four. After my breast cancer diagnosis in August 2022, I became aware of the CDC’s (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) guidelines for alcohol. One drink or less in a day for women. Two for men. I may have abstained another month before the next glass of wine. But—I thought, “How ridiculous!” I had no desire to quit.

After trying to cut back a few times, I said to myself, “Crystal, you are the ridiculous one. You only have one body. Why not treat it with tender-loving care?” It took me 54 years to realize none is easier than one (at least for me), and I became sober curious. Suddenly, I found myself asking God for help. And lo and behold, I feel the divine help. I’m not ready to resolve that I will never have another drink, but I intend to keep praying for myself. So far. So good. I believe in one day at a time.

May you experience health, hope, peace, joy, and love in 2024!

A friend texted me the following, and I am forwarding to you:

Hey! I’ve been using Reframe App. It is helping me cutback on drinking, using neuroscience 🧠. All you need is 15 minutes a day!

Sign up and get 1-Month Free Trial for your subscription by going to this link:

https://tryreframeapp.com/referral?code=YS87FJ

Zumba?

I clicked into the online class because the title said, “20 Minute ZUMBA Fitness.”

I said to myself, “I can do anything for twenty minutes.”

From the first downbeat, the instructor Ayhan Sulu is high energy. His sleevless shirt says, “EGO IS NOT YOUR AMIGO.” And his smile—well—you might just need to click play to see for yourself. Better yet, stand up wherever you are, set your ego aside, and give it a try.

Let me warn you, at about the seven-minute mark, I nearly cried mercy, but I couldn’t stop smiling. Just when I found myself almost dying, the music switched, and we slowed down. Not for long. The intensity built once more. But if this guy’s energy doesn’t make you smile, then picture me—a 51-one-year-old woman who has never ever Zumba-ed, trying to keep up with his moves. Maybe you had to be there, but I’m still tickled.

Around fourteen minutes, I hit pause and went to pee for the sheer excuse of taking a time out. The workout would be over at 22:17. “I can do anything for eight minutes,” I reminded myself. Just as I hit play, there was another slowdown. And then another speed up. And then somewhere in the nineteen-minute range, we started cooling down. I had made it! Through the class. Through my A-Z blogging challenge. Through my month of action. Miracles do happen. Bring on May.

Try!

When I started this A-Z Challenge, I didn’t have a plan for over half of the alphabet. I just thought I would stick to a theme of action and try. I even thought I might skip a day if necessary. Somehow, I kept showing up and doing it. That’s what try means to me. You show up. You do it. If you fail, you try again. You keep showing up. You do things differently.

When I returned to school for my masters, I didn’t have the money for tuition. I just thought I would figure it out, and I did. I had probably thought about going back to school for ten years before I committed, and now I’m probably most proud of myself for just doing it.

I’ve been thinking about what I’ve absorbed in my life. I grew up with this one—

It’s never too late to absorb the good stuff…and it’s never too late to try…

Quest!

In 2013, I received an opportunity to teach a Creative Writing class at the high school where I also taught English. As a new elective without an established curriculum, I had the freedom to teach it however I wanted. I adopted a two-part philosophy. First, writers must be readers, and I structured classes with time to read for pleasure with an eye toward author’s craft. Next, writers must write—every day. I gave the students daily prompts that they could use or not for their writing. The point was sustained practice.

In the beginning, I felt like a hypocrite, and so the second part of my own philosophy forced me to write—almost every day. I kept a journal and notes in my phone, bits of dialogue and scenes. As I wrote alongside my students, I often stuck to a theme of my son Drew, our new normal with schizophrenia, and our quest for help. Little by little over the next few years, I realized my story might help someone else. Finding help had been hard, especially when my son didn’t see a need for help. Maybe I would write a memoir. I quested ahead with my writing practice. My structure was episodic. My ideas were fragmented. Some of it was pretty good. Some of it was horrific. I didn’t know how to make it all publishable.

For my fiftieth birthday, I gifted myself time for grad school and started a new quest for my MFA. Who knew I could study Creative Writing? As my program winds down, I’m questing toward my degree and the latest draft of my memoir Help in the Time of Schizophrenia. When I submit this work on April 26^th, two of my professors and a third contracted reader will read it and provide a final round of feedback. I’m super thankful for the extra perspective.

And soon, I’ll be on a new quest. To be determined.

Quest

Carrie Williams Clifford

My goal out-distances the utmost star, 
Yet is encompassed in my inmost Soul; 
I am my goal—my quest, to know myself. 
To chart and compass this unfathomed sea, 
Myself must plumb the boundless universe. 
My Soul contains all thought, all mystery, 
All wisdom of the Great Infinite Mind: 
This is to discover, I must voyage far, 
At last to find it in my pulsing heart.

Mom, Will You…

Lauren called late, 10:38, last Sunday night. She said, “Mom, will you come to Dallas?” I felt a tug in my heart. Something in her voice said, I need you, whether she said it or not.

“Of course, I’ll be there tomorrow,” I said. Lauren knew I had planned on making a trip sometime before the end of February. I just needed to wrap my brain around when. Just a month ago, I helped her load her Houston apartment into a U-Haul. She had lived fifteen minutes away. Now four hours. Part of my thirty-day purge required unloading some items from my house at Lauren’s new place. Still, when your child tells you you’re needed, you go. At least I do. If I’m able. And thank God I was. So I drove the road to Dallas beneath overcast gray skies.

Lauren is okay. New place. New job. Some of the same old stresses. How many times did I call my mother, especially in my twenties, with news of how the sky had fallen off my world? Sometimes a girl just needs her mom.

Together we hung a few things on the wall, some of my discards. “Anything you don’t want, we’ll give to Goodwill,” I said. Two small bags of things went back to my car. She let me rearrange some shelves and décor. We ate a few meals out, a few meals in, and each night we curled up on the couch and tried to make it to the end of a movie. We finally finished The Devil Wears Prada and concluded that no one needs to sell their soul for work or things.

And today I’m headed home. I don’t like the thought of leaving my baby girl alone. And so I leave her in God’s hands and trust. What else is a mama to do?

And for a quick post script, this week’s purge included 6 Christmas items, 13 decorative, 23 to Lauren, 5 more for dogs, 8 from one cabinet, and 31 from the garage straight to the trash. That’s 86 things no longer needed, used or loved, now gone from my house. AND, I’m 61 items ahead of schedule going into Week Three, which is awesome since I’ve been out of town. And at Lauren’s I helped her do the same 58 items out of her closet and dresser drawers. I had a trip planned to Goodwill anyway.

N is for the Numbers

On April 1, I stumbled across a blog post that centered on the A-Z blogging challenge. I had just spent the previous two weeks at home vegging on the couch and mindlessly scrolling past all of the corona virus jokes and advice and fearmongering on facebook, and I realized that I needed something productive to occupy my time lest I go cuckoo.

I published my first ever blog post on September 12, 2017 and tapped out 13 posts total in 2017, 30 in 2018, and 35 in 2019. 78 total posts heading into 2020, and this post makes 25 so far for the year. In the beginning I posted at least twice a month and last year more like three times a month. How many times have I tapped that cranberry-colored Publish button (does it change colors? I swear I thought it was blue), and said to myself, I’ll never be able to write anything again. That’s where the challenge came in. I wondered. Could I really write something remotely interesting every day? How much would the blog grow?

Shortly after I committed to the writing challenge, I walked back to my bedroom and stepped on the scale. Yikes! That number scared me worse than Covid-19. I wondered. If I walked at least thirty minutes a day for the next month, how many pounds could I lose? How much would my ass shrink?

So the writing and walking became part of my recent routine. After thirteen posts this month, it should come as no surprise that my viewer numbers on Word Press are at an all-time personal high. If only I could say my weight was at an all-time healthy-adult low. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was my body. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the numbers, but more than anything, the progress is good.