When I decided to go ‘Sober for October’ it was a spur of the moment decision. Inspired by the world’s vilest hangover - Epigram socials are no joke - I shakily created my Macmillan account, and waited for the good karma and liver stability to roll in.

Over time, I justified the decision with other reasonings: I would save money, be healthier, maybe even lose some weight. It might clear my skin, and give me some energy back. Most importantly, I would hopefully contribute towards help for cancer patients to ensure no one had to suffer the grief I did as a child.

The month has been a challenge in a number of ways. House parties, birthdays, socials, dates, and my friendship group’s weekly tradition of Wednesday Wine and Whine - very cathartic, would recommend to anyone… I was inundated with excuses to give up, sack it in, and go back on the wobbly and wide (what is the opposite of straight and narrow?).

My first party approaching, I felt a weight in my stomach. With my friend back from his year abroad, I felt a mounting pressure to be my usual effervescent, outgoing - aka messy - self. With no crutch to fall back on in the early mingling stages of the event, I felt out of place, and out of sorts. By the end of the night, however, being driven back by my equally sober friend, I felt a sense of pride I could not quite pin-point.

I could never be described as shy or retiring, unless in a hilarious joke I shouted ironically across a room full of affronted and newly deafened strangers, but even I need a little boost occasionally. Without my usual tipple to get the inhibitions loosened, I had to fall back on good old fashioned conversation and communication.

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