Can Alcohol and Meditation Coexist? My Journey of Healing and Alcohol-Free Living

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Alcohol and Meditation

I recently dipped my toes into Reddit for the first time—partly to connect with people going through similar shit, offer advice (because I’m obviously a self-proclaimed expert now), and, let’s be real, promote my new blog.

What I wasn’t expecting was the authenticity and genuine goodness of people in the subreddit threads.

And I definitely wasn’t expecting the inspiration I’d feel from reading through the posts.

A common theme last night was people wondering if their relationship with alcohol could be screwing up their meditation practice, if meditation could help them quit drinking altogether, and how long it would take for meditation to fix everything.

Well, here’s the thing I don’t talk about much: I decided to take a 30-day break from drinking on June 4th, 2018. And I haven’t gone back. Seven years this coming June. SEVEN FUCKING YEARS. And let me tell you— that first year? Slow, awkward, uncomfortable as hell. But after that? Well, everything changed.

Me and Booze: Two Peas in a Pod

Alcohol was my sidekick for most of my life, as it is for a lot of people in the U.S. It’s used to ease pain, to celebrate, or make the unbearable just a little more bearable. Weddings, holidays, graduations, birthdays—hell, even Tuesday. Booze was always there, flowing like it was the lifeblood of social interactions.

As an adult, I was “pleasantly” surprised at how alcohol was not only around me all the time, but also encouraged—in and out of the workplace. Wine Wednesdays, Thirsty Thursdays, 4 p.m. Friday Happy Hours. The holidays? Lunch-time bar cart, anyone?

I was spending weekends touring wineries or hitting up boozy brunches. I wouldn’t even go to a restaurant if they didn’t have wine or mimosas. Beer and biking with friends? Hell yeah! Got a hard week at the office? Let’s go get drinks. Promotion? Champagne, baby!

Now, don’t get me wrong. All these things were super fucking fun. But here’s the kicker: I didn’t know how to do anything without booze in the mix. Social gatherings? Better with booze. Intolerable work meetings? Oh, we’ll throw a drink in the mix to make it bearable. Excruciating family gatherings? Yep, booze is there too. Even sex was lubricated with booze (pun intended, of course)!

Somewhere along the way, I started using wine and work to cope with anxiety, depression, and just the general existential crisis that is adulting. Oh, that sweet elixir of the gods—how it made everything just a little more tolerable. Or, at least, forgettable for a while.

Why I Decided to Take a Snooze from the Booze

2018. Three major losses. My maternal grandmother, one of my dogs, and my paternal grandmother—all gone in the span of three months. Instead of processing my grief, I dove deeper into work and, naturally, more wine. But somewhere in that haze, I realized I couldn’t outrun grief forever. So, I decided to take a break from booze and give myself a chance to start processing it.

In true “me” fashion, I did a shit ton of research. I stumbled upon Annie Grace (check her out here: This Naked Mind) and her 30-day Alcohol Experiment (click here for her program). This challenge was a game-changer. It made me genuinely curious about my relationship with alcohol. I also grabbed her book This Naked Mind (because impatience runs deep), wanting to understand it all, like, yesterday.

At my grandmother’s funeral, my brother threw down an even bigger challenge. He said, “Let’s both take a year off drinking.” Oh shit!

Dealing with Emotions: I’d Rather Not, Thanks

Let me tell you—dealing with emotions I had been avoiding for years? Overwhelming as fuck. I tried to “fix” it all with my logical brain, you know, like I fix everything—with force, grit, and speed. I brainstormed plans, consulted with experts, and made endless to-do lists. I read books, attended webinars, and chased every lead promising me some magical, healing shortcut.

Every waking moment, my mind was spinning, trying to find the perfect answer. If I work hard enough, surely I’ll find it… right?

But the answer didn’t come that way.

It came as a whisper from my soul, gently urging me to be still, listen, and reconnect with myself—something I hadn’t done in years. And that’s when meditation entered the picture.

At first, it was anything but easy. My mind raced, my body fidgeted, and my thoughts screamed louder than a toddler on a sugar high. But I kept coming back to it. Deep down, I knew there was something there for me.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but meditation wasn’t just helping me process grief or untangle my relationship with alcohol—it was actually reintroducing me to myself. It was giving me the space to feel, heal, and grow in ways I never knew I needed.

Alcohol and Meditation: A Complex Relationship

The questions I read on Reddit reminded me just how intertwined alcohol and meditation can be. It’s not about whether alcohol and meditation can coexist—they can, if you’re okay with that. But the deeper question is: what the fuck are you using alcohol for, and how is it messing with your ability to connect with yourself?

For me, alcohol was a tool to numb the discomfort, avoid the pain, and escape from the reality I didn’t want to face. Meditation, on the other hand, was the opposite. It asked me to sit with my discomfort, to feel my pain, and to explore my reality with curiosity—not judgment.

These two couldn’t coexist in my life because they were opposites. Alcohol silenced my soul; meditation, on the other hand, amplified it.

Does Meditation Fix Everything?

Not even fucking close. Meditation isn’t a magic wand that waves away all your problems or makes you stop wanting wine or whiskey. It’s a practice, a journey, and—perhaps most importantly—a relationship with yourself. It doesn’t do the work for you. It shows you the work that needs to be done.

And it’s not a quick fix. Early on, I didn’t feel calm or enlightened. I felt raw, exposed, and overwhelmed. But eventually, things shifted. My anxiety started to ease. My self-awareness deepened. And my ability to face life’s challenges grew.

How Meditation Helped Me Stay Alcohol-Free

Meditation helped me uncover why I turned to alcohol in the first place. It helped me confront fears, heal wounds, and rewrite the stories I’d been telling myself about who I was and what I needed to be happy.

It didn’t happen overnight, and I didn’t do it alone. I combined meditation with therapy, journaling, and support from friends and family. But meditation was the thread that tied it all together—it kept bringing me back to myself.

To Those Wondering If Alcohol and Meditation Can Coexist

Here’s the thing: Only you can answer that question. But I will say this: meditation has the power to change your relationship with everything—alcohol included. It won’t force you to quit or make the decision for you, but it will show you the truth about what’s working for you and what’s not.

So, if you’re curious, start small. Sit for five minutes a day. See what comes up. Get curious about your relationship with alcohol. Ask yourself why you drink, what you’re avoiding, and what you really need. You might be surprised by the answers.

My Life Without Alcohol

Seven years later, I can honestly say my life is richer, fuller, and more meaningful without alcohol. I’ve learned how to celebrate, grieve, connect, and cope in ways that feel true to me. And yes, sex without booze is even better because I am fully present with my partner. Once you get over how vulnerable sex actually is, that is. Meditation has been a massive part of that journey for me.

If you’re on a similar path, remember: it’s okay to take it one step at a time. It’s okay to stumble, to ask questions, and to start over. Growth isn’t linear. Healing doesn’t have a timeline. But every step you take brings you closer to yourself—and that’s the greatest gift you can give yourself.