Sober Sis Blog

Written By Jenn Kautsch

Why Am I Thinking About Drinking So Much?

When the mental chatter around alcohol is more exhausting than the drinking itself.

There was a season of my life when I spent an embarrassing amount of mental energy thinking about drinking. Somewhere around mid afternoon, the conversation in my head would start. Am I going to drink tonight? I said I wasn’t going to. But I worked out today. Maybe I’ll just have one. It’s been a long week. I’ll start again Monday. And around and around we’d go.

I call it the mental tug-of-war, and if you’ve ever tried to cut back, moderate, take a break, or change your relationship with alcohol in any way, you may know exactly what I’m talking about. You can wake up in the morning completely convinced that you’re not going to drink that night, and then somewhere around wine o’clock another version of you enters the conversation and apparently she has hired herself as your attorney. 😂 Suddenly there are negotiations, exceptions, explanations, and loopholes. The word “only” was repeated. Only one. Only on weekends. Only when we go out. Not tonight, but definitely Friday. Okay, tonight, but then not again until Friday. Whew. It’s exhausting just typing it.

When Thinking About Drinking Becomes the Exhausting Part

I’ve said this before in Look Alive, Sis and I still think it’s one of the best ways I can describe my own experience: I had more of a thinking problem than I did a drinking problem. I spent so much mental bandwidth thinking about whether I would drink, when I would drink, how much I would drink, whether I should drink, and then sometimes beating myself up because I was thinking about drinking in the first place. That’s a lot of brain space for one little glass of wine, isn’t it?

“I had more of a thinking problem than I did a drinking problem.”

And what I’ve learned since then is that the goal isn’t necessarily to make those thoughts disappear. In fact, trying desperately not to think about drinking can sometimes make the whole thing louder. The goal is to change our relationship with the thought so we don’t have to treat every thought like a problem that needs to be solved.

The Habit Starts Long Before the Pour

Here’s where it gets interesting, because the drinking habit doesn’t necessarily begin when you pour the drink. For many of us, it starts much earlier. Five o’clock. Cooking dinner. Friday night. Walking into your favorite Mexican restaurant and smelling the chips and salsa. Finishing a stressful workday. Sitting down after everyone else has finally stopped needing something from you. Your brain recognizes the cue and remembers what usually comes next. Ohhhh, this is when we have wine.(or whatever alcohol ‘pairs’ with the association.)

That’s why a thought like, I could really use a drink right now, can seem to pop into your head out of nowhere. Except it didn’t really come out of nowhere. Your brain learned an association. There’s a cue, then anticipation, then the expectation of a reward. Do that enough times and the pathway gets pretty familiar. Our brains are actually very good learners, even when we’d prefer they hadn’t learned the particular lesson we’re trying to unlearn.

“The habit doesn’t usually start with the pour. Sometimes it starts with the thought.”

So if you’re trying to change your relationship with alcohol and you STILL think about drinking, please don’t immediately make that mean you’re doing something wrong. Of course your brain remembers. You’ve practiced this pattern, maybe for years or even decades. This is where I think we make things so much harder on ourselves because first we have the thought, and then we get mad at ourselves for having the thought. Why am I still thinking about wine? Why can’t I just stop wanting it? What is wrong with me? Now we don’t just have the original thought. We’ve piled frustration, judgment, and shame on top of it. It’s like getting mad because you’re mad or feeling sad because you’re sad. Now we’ve got a two-for-one special on thoughts we didn’t want in the first place. 😂

Stop Fighting the Thought

What if, instead, we stopped arguing with every thought that crossed our minds? Let’s say it’s 5:00 and your brain says, A glass of wine would feel really good right now. You don’t have to immediately jump into the ring and start yelling back, NO IT WOULDN’T! Alcohol is terrible! I don’t even want wine! Because here’s the thing. Maybe part of you does want it.

Let’s keep it real, Sis. I didn’t change my relationship with alcohol because one morning I magically woke up hating the buzz. For a long time, alcohol felt like an eject button in my life. It felt like relaxation. Connection. Reward. Escape. So trying to convince myself that I didn’t want something that part of me clearly still wanted just created another debate.

Today I can respond very differently. I can say, “Yep. My brain remembers that feeling, and I’m choosing something different.” That’s it. No courtroom. No closing arguments. No 45-minute debate with myself. I can acknowledge the thought without obeying it, and that distinction has changed so much for me.

There are four little things I practice when one of those thoughts shows up, and I think they’re worth writing down somewhere because they’re wonderfully simple:

NOTICE IT. NAME IT. NORMALIZE IT. REDIRECT.

First, notice it. Instead of saying, I need a drink, I can say, I’m thinking about drinking. That sounds like such a tiny distinction, but it’s a powerful one. “I need a drink” sounds like an instruction. “I’m thinking about drinking” is simply an observation. Oh, look at that. There’s that thought. I don’t have to panic. I don’t have to push it away. I don’t have to do anything with it yet. I can simply notice that it’s there.

Then, name what’s happening. This is a craving. This is wine o’clock. This is my brain remembering an old solution. This is what I usually do when I’m stressed. Naming it helps me step out of autopilot. I’m not just standing inside the pattern anymore. I’m looking at the pattern, and there is so much power in that little bit of awareness.

Then comes the part I especially want my perfectionist Sisters to hear: normalize it. Instead of saying, Why am I STILL thinking about this? I can say, Of course my brain is doing this. I’ve trained it to associate this moment with alcohol. Of course you thought about a margarita when you walked into the restaurant where you’ve ordered one a hundred times. Of course Friday night brings up thoughts of wine if Friday night has meant wine for years. Of course stress might trigger an old escape route. You aren’t required to act on the thought, but you also don’t have to shame yourself for having it.

And then, finally, redirect. This is the part I think we sometimes miss because we notice the craving and then sit there staring at it, waiting to see who wins. Don’t do that to yourself. Give your brain somewhere else to go. Take a shower. Walk around the block. Call somebody. Eat something. Make tea. Go outside. Pray. Turn on some music. Dance in the kitchen. Do something with your hands. Start dinner. Fold the laundry if you’re feeling especially ambitious, although let’s not get carried away. 😂

“A thought can show up without becoming a behavior.”

That’s what you’re teaching your brain. You can think something without doing it. You can want something for a moment without deciding that you actually want everything that comes with it. And every time you practice that, you’re gathering new evidence.

Yes, the Chatter Really Can Get Quieter

This is the hopeful part. Eventually, the chatter really can get quieter. Not because you finally become strong enough to never think about alcohol again, but because your brain begins learning something new. The cue happens. The thought comes. You don’t drink. Nothing terrible happens. Life continues. Then it happens again. Cue. Thought. Different choice. Life continues.

Again and again, your brain starts gathering evidence that you can experience the cue without following the old pattern. You can go to the restaurant and not order the margarita. You can have a hard day and find another way to come down from it. You can get to Friday night and discover that Friday is still Friday without the wine. Little by little, that old prediction doesn’t need to shout quite so loudly anymore.

Even now, there are moments when my husband orders a drink somewhere we used to drink together and a little thought floats through my mind. Yep, I would’ve ordered one here too. And you know what? I don’t freak out about it. I don’t shame myself. I don’t wonder whether having the thought means something has gone terribly wrong. I just notice it. Yep. I remember that. That’s what we used to do together.

And then comes the simplest little sentence: But that’s not what I’m doing anymore.

And I move on. No drama. No big internal wrestling match. The thought can float across the bottom of my brain like one of those little news tickers on TV and keep right on scrolling.

“You don’t have to win an argument every time alcohol crosses your mind.”

That’s freedom to me. Freedom isn’t spending the rest of my life desperately trying to make sure I never have another thought about alcohol. Freedom is knowing that the thought doesn’t get to run the show.

Maybe you’ve been frustrated because you’re drinking less, taking a break, or doing a Reset and you’re still thinking about alcohol more than you’d like. Please don’t use that as evidence against yourself. Get curious about it instead. Notice it. Name it. Normalize it. Redirect. Give your brain the opportunity to learn something new.

You don’t have to win an argument every time alcohol crosses your mind. You don’t have to make it a battle, and you don’t even have to make the thought go away. Sometimes you can simply say:

“I hear you. I understand why you’re here. But that’s not what we’re doing anymore.”

Then keep going.

Progress over perfection. We’re not just learning how to drink less. We’re learning how to get our brain space back. And I can tell you from this side of it, that might be one of the sweetest freedoms of all. 💛