Sober in Spain – tips, practicalities, and deep thoughts on sobriety

It’s been three years since I quit drinking.

Three years, three and a half months.

One thousand, one hundred and seventy-four days of sobriety.

At the time I quit, I wasn’t intending to change my whole life.

I just had some annoying health issues that I wanted to get rid of.

A nutritionist told me to eliminate alcohol, coffee, and most of what I was eating, so we could add foods back in to see what was bothering me. After a week of my “elimination diet”, though, I had realized that alcohol was the whole problem. It was obvious in hindsight.

So I just quit drinking – and things have never been better.

Moving to Spain when I was in my early 20s was a great decision. Adopting certain parts of the Mediterranean lifestyle – wine with dinner, and (later) wine with lunch – was less brilliant.

Beer or cocktails between meals was also a mistake, obviously. But I ended up doing that, too.

At the time it was an unquestioned fact that red wine was a health food. All those antioxidants, you know. Drinking every day was actually healthier than not drinking.

Science said so! And I believed it.

That whole thing is a bit of a long story that I’ve talked about in a couple of other articles.

People have since asked what it’s like being sober in Spain.

Practicalities of being sober in Spain

On the practical side, one thing a lot of people enjoy about life in Spain is being out at bars and restaurants. The good news is that most places now have alcohol-free beer you can order if you’re not drinking.

(Ask for a cero-cero, or cerveza sin alcohol.)

I’m sure there are places with mocktails as well if you’re into that.

And nobody’s going to force you to have wine at a restaurant if you’d prefer to have water. There’s plenty of social drinking going on – ¿vamos a tomar algo?

But if you go to a bar and order a cup of tea, nobody’s going to be bothered.

I can think of a couple of times that I’ve been in some random place (a kebab shop, having lunch, for example) and some tipsy old guy comes up to tell me that he thinks alcohol-free beer is pointless.

Thankfully, that’s rare, and if you’re an American living abroad you’ll probably have plenty of other dumb conversations with strangers. It’s not the end of the world.

Besides my wife Morena (and the people who read this blog) I didn’t tell anyone I’m on some big sobriety journey, and nobody really asked either. I usually just say something like “the doctor told me to stop drinking” and people don’t ask further questions.

Sober and dealing with your repressed issues

Before getting sober I read that sobriety makes you finally deal with whatever issues you were repressing by getting drunk.

Without the crutch, I was going to have to face my emotions head-on.

“Well, that doesn’t apply to me”, I thought. “I’m not repressing anything.”

I really thought that.

Then, about three days into sobriety, I was sitting in the park near my house when I suddenly had a moment of clarity. It was like an alcoholic fog had lifted off my brain, and I suddenly saw that everything – all of creation – was incredibly beautiful.

It was a warm spring day, big white clouds floated across the sky. The sun was shining through the leaves at just the right angle. German tourist girls were out wandering through Barcelona on their way to Arc de Triomf.

And the whole scene was just perfect.

“Everything is a miracle”, I thought. “How did I manage to miss this for so long?”

In that moment, and in many like it over the next several months, I started to believe in a higher power.

Turns out, my brain likes doing spiritual things. That’s what I was repressing, all those years.

I don’t know how common this is – it’s not the kind of mainstream “trauma” people talk about. But it’s my experience, and it probably resonates with somebody out there.

Out of the alcoholic fog

As I progressed through the weeks and months of sobriety, the fog lifted further, and I was able to remember that actually, when I was in my teens and early 20s, my brain did this sort of “spiritual” stuff a lot.

I didn’t know what to do with it at the time. Sitting around being insufferably deep probably works if you’re a philosophy major with family money and a large trust fund – I was a college dropout with a room in a shared flat, so my emotional depth was annoying rather than charming.

Looking back, I guess I learned to pick up a glass of wine so I could fit in. I needed to “dumb down” my personality and seem a bit more “fun” when I had a hot date, or went out to parties.

“Have you considered that the whole universe is interconnected? And here we are – sentient primates, descended from the trees, able to experience the miracle of existence, philosophize, even write poetry about it. Amazing!”

That’s weird, but not in a fun way. And sitting around contemplating universal oneness isn’t really conducive to doing normal date-like things or making small talk with the in-laws.

A couple of girls dumped me specifically because I would sit around being deep all the time, when they were just hoping to have fun. That was actually the whole life plan for two or three of the Spanish girls I dated, back in the day: “to have fun”.

I thought it sounded like a pretty stupid plan. And I suppose they were right to dump me.

Society’s pressure to “be fun” and entertain the extroverts

When you’re in your 20s, then, there’s a lot of social pressure to be fun.

There’s dating, and night life. Clubs. Parties. Friend groups. And drinking is involved in most or all of it.

I remember the Sunday afternoon many years ago when some French girls I knew introduced me to bar-hopping. We walked from place to place around La Latina, in Madrid, having a couple of drinks and a few bites of food in each.

We didn’t have bar-hopping back in the Arizona desert. Or French girls. I was hooked immediately. Not necessarily on the alcohol – that would be later – but on the lifestyle.

Luckily, my twenty-two-year-old liver could handle it.

By the time I got to my mid 30s, it seemed like a good idea to dial back the fun and start taking better care of my health. In the meantime, though, I’d moved to Barcelona, where I could spend all day drinking at the beach.

On the other hand, I’d gotten into a steady relationship with Morena – no more dating.

So I quit, for the most boring of health reasons, and started to re-adjust to sober life.

Building a new sober identity

Once the novelty of being sober had worn off, after a couple of weeks, I realized I had to come up with new ways to spend my time.

I had to create a whole new sober identity, really. A new lifestyle, with hobbies beyond bar-hopping.

A few weeks later, a friend randomly asked if I wanted to try Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. So I went along.

I didn’t actually enjoy it at first. You spend a lot of time being crushed under sweaty dads. Guys with many tattoos would strangle me in several positions, and then I’d go home and have dinner and try to sleep, my heart still racing from the exertion, and the adrenaline.

For six full months, I didn’t like jiu jitsu at all. But I realized that the environment at the gym was good for me. Being surrounded by middle-aged guys who are in great shape was going to rub off on me, sooner or later.

So I stuck with it.

I’d always thought health nuts were sort of lame, sad people. What I didn’t know is how good it feels to work out every day, and eat clean, and get 8 hours of sleep. So now I go to the gym, eat protein and vegetables, drink water and coffee, and feel amazing. I don’t miss the booze at all.

I also don’t miss the hangovers, or waking up at 2 AM with a huge cortisol spike, or the puffiness, or the joint pain.

Top tips for sobriety in Spain

I realize I’m spending a lot of time here repeating things I said in my two previous sobriety articles. I think that’s because I don’t really have much more to say about being sober.

Before, I was having several drinks every day. Now, I have a life without the physical, mental, and financial strain of an unhealthy addiction. But it’s just a normal life: there’s not much to comment on.

So my big advice for being sober in Spain (or anywhere else) is…

1. Find a healthier social group to hang out with.
2. Work out as much as your body can handle (and that’s probably a lot).
3. Start developing your spiritual side.
4. If you have doubts about how to “get started”, buy a copy of Allen Carr’s book Easy Way to Control Alcohol. It’s about 6 or 8 bucks on Amazon.

Pretty simple, right? At least it is on paper.

Everything is in the execution

As far as the details of how you execute those first three points, it’s up to you. I hang out at the gym every day, with healthy middle-aged guys. I lift weights and do jiu jitsu, plus I walk a lot, and I go cycling across Spain from time to time.

And about developing your spiritual side, I’m pretty “agnostic” as to how you go about it.

But I think believing in a higher power, who’s largely benevolent and wants you to succeed, is a worthwhile tool to have while conquering addiction.

It’s not an accident that AA makes mention of God or a higher power in 6 of their 12 steps. It works, even if you don’t literally believe it. Just treat it as a thought experiment, if you want.

“What would I do if I knew there was a higher power who wanted me to succeed? How would I feel?”

Putting yourself in that frame of mind can work wonders.

Almost anything is better than the addict’s mindset, in which you’re riding the waves of dopamine, and worshipping your own hedonistic impulses above all else.

Getting support for alcohol addiction in Spain

There are English-speaking AA groups meeting in major Spanish cities – and probably anywhere with a large expat population.

I’ve never been to a meeting, but I guess it helps a lot of people. The Alcoholics Anonymous website lists several active groups here in Barcelona. Just google around and you’ll probably find something.

When I was first contemplating quitting, I read a lot of blogs written by rehab clinics – so I know those are around, too. If you need support, get it.

One thing I’ve learned from publishing a couple of articles about sobriety here on the blog is that by the time people are a certain age, almost everybody has either been through this struggle or knows somebody who has.

So you’re not alone.

Drunk expectations vs sober reality

All in all, sobriety isn’t what I expected it to be.

When I was drinking every day, I just assumed that sober me would be “white knuckling” all the time – using huge amounts of willpower just to keep from drinking. But it’s not like that at all, in my experience.

I quit drinking, and I’m done. I don’t want to drink. I just want to live my life as best I can.

I’m fine with not being fun, and missing out on all those antioxidants.

These days, when I read my old articles, I see between the lines the alcohol-fueled nihilism, and I cringe at the sarcastic and somewhat angry world view.

I feel bad for that guy, lost in his alcoholic fog.

But that guy was me. And he was living the Spanish dream.

Yours, with reverence for a Higher Power,

Daniel AKA Mr Chorizo.

P.S. I also cringe a bit, these days, when I see people commenting “I just moved to Spain, and OMG the wine is so cheap here!” It is cheap, but believe me, making it a big part of your lifestyle is going to be expensive in the long term – in more ways than one. I’m sure all the people at the English-speaking AA meetings were once just “having fun” and “enjoying life”. Anyway, I talked about about society’s terrible messaging around alcohol in my article from the Bahamas, so check that out if you’d like. And here’s my first sobriety article, called sobriety and introvert hell in Dublin.

P.P.S. Actually, I think what I said in the Bahamas article is important enough to copy and paste here:

Society’s messaging around alcohol is pretty dumb, if you think about it.

Here’s this addictive substance. We absolutely know it’s addictive, but we encourage everybody to use it anyway. Use it to relax, unwind, and have fun. Use it to destress. Use it to socialize. Use it to enjoy your food and (more generally) your life. Use it when you’re happy, and when you’re sad: adult life will present you with literally thousands of occasions – from birthdays and weddings to funerals – where you’ll be expected to drink alcohol.

In fact, you’re probably a pretty boring person if you don’t use it at every opportunity. So drink up!

Oh, and by the way, if you actually get addicted to this known-to-be-addictive substance, well, then you have a big problem and you need to get some self control and “learn moderation”.

You monster. How could you be so irresponsible?

– Daniel (AKA Mr Chorizo), about two years ago.

That’s essentially what we tell people about how fun alcohol is – the only thing I’d add at this point is that there’s a good bit of messaging about alcohol and masculinity that’s even worse than what I just described. So be careful out there, kids. And remember the four stoic virtues.

P.P.P.S. If you’re thinking about quitting alcohol, please do. And don’t hesitate to get in touch with me if you want to talk about it. I’m easy to find on Instagram and other places.