Think Like CJ

Part of a daily blog publishing challenge.

I stopped drinking alcohol completely on April 8, 2024.
Coincidentally, it was also the day of the Full Solar Eclipse.

The timing feels symbolic now, but at the time, it was just the next day.

The day before my “booze-free” count officially began, I was obliterated in my living room. I was pleading via text for release. Thirteen hours followed. Thirteen hours of vomiting up my insides. Thirteen hours of my body rejecting what my mind kept returning to.

By the time I started counting days, my body had already made the decision.

I’d call it cold turkey, but that wouldn’t be entirely honest.
It was a gradual process to cold turkey — a long unraveling that finally snapped.

The Case

Alcohol used to be how I engaged with people.

It was how I loosened up.
How I accessed my extroverted, outgoing self, or at least the version of me I thought was real. Alcohol felt like identity. Like proof. Like permission.

In reality, it was a comfort zone I didn’t know how to step outside of yet.

When I quit, nothing miraculous happened right away.
There was no instant clarity. No sudden peace. No personality rewrite.

What changed came later.

Observations

Months without drinking revealed something I didn’t expect: my will to endure.

I grew stronger mentally, physically, and emotionally. It was not because life got easier. It happened because I learned how to stay focused through discomfort instead of escaping it.

That said, I won’t romanticize sobriety.

The FOMO is real. And I think it always will be.

It’s a virus that sneaks in when loneliness taps you on the shoulder. A nudge that tries to pull you back into the noise. Living without alcohol does get easier. But, I think a part of you will always miss it in some way. Not the damage. The familiarity.

One of the quietest changes surprised me the most.

After quitting, consistency in the gym came naturally. My body began craving something healthy. Not out of punishment, but out of respect. Watching that shift happen without forcing it was one of the clearest signals that something deeper had changed.

My Opinion

What people misunderstand about alcohol is this: everyone’s story is different.

One man wakes up and drinks from sunup to sundown.
One woman wakes up and sips her coffee. She hits the gym. She winds down with a couple bottles of wine every night.

Same substance. Entirely different narratives.

Quitting alcohol didn’t give me a new life.
It gave me the strength to love the life I’ve been given.

I don’t believe alcohol is always the problem. I believe it’s often the cover — the thing shielding the story someone isn’t ready to read yet.

Who This Is For

This isn’t for people who think they have a problem.
It’s for people who want to make a change in the way they’re living.

That’s it. No labels required.