Snowydelrico

You said it, ‘they are boring as hell’
So why bother?
Maybe Ive done all that scene to death and can’t find fun or enjoyment in it anymore.
I’m enjoying the flip side. Going to places/doing things that are good for my health. Hidden treasures pop up here and there when i least expect it.

There are a trillion other things to do that don’t involve booze.

Keep trying, you will find your sit.

August252015

All excellent suggestions above - the one thing I would add is that discovering and appreciating then WANTING a world built on my sobriety THEN the external people, places and things .... took time. And readiness. And small steps in smaller (even one on one) activities.

Gradually, I also learned to enjoy my own company - and do things like reading a ton and actually ingesting the book bc I wasn't doing it with glass after glass of wine or vodka.

I just had to believe that staying on the sober side would be good, and at first that sometimes meant because it was simply EASIER. No decisions about when, where or how much to drink, saying no was never something I regretted.

you can make a new life for yourself, one that is more full than what you or I thought we had when drinking.

Be123

DriGuy

Assuming most cities are basically the same, I think your perception is probably wrong. I can relate, because I had a similar perception, although I don't think I felt it as deeply as you do.

In my case this was exactly the situation. In reality there are other people. Everyone gravitates naturally toward people who think like they do. They are drawn together by similar politics, religion, outdoor activities, careers, and social class. Drinkers gravitate toward other drinkers. Heavy drinkers find other heavy drinkers to hang with. For drinkers, developing close relationships with non-drinkers approaches the category of "non-starters." I have been fooled many times into thinking that I was part of an overwhelming norm. It's just not so.

I'd lay odds that this is actually a niche group of similar people that is not representative of the city at large.

I agree that your social life will change, and it's kind of tough to imagine, although it didn't turn out as bad as I thought. I still hung out with some of my regular friends, but some I had to drop. But in fact, most of them didn't miss me that much. They may have wondered where I went in between beers, but I wasn't as close to many of these people as I thought. But yes, you will be seeing less of some of them.

Yes, you will, and you will be surprised. All these negatives that are looming in front of you, loomed in front of me. But they are just big ugly monsters that range from imaginary to not as big and ugly as you think they are. For me the new change of scenery was worth the sacrifice, and the sacrifice turned out to be less of a loss than I thought.

One thing that was helpful in my first AA group (it depends on your group) was that we did things together, things that helped fill the gaps you are worried about. We had camping outings, where we would reserve an entire campground for ourselves, and would be joined by other AA groups from other towns that would, in turn, invite us to their campouts.

New Years Eve was always special in my group. While everyone was out getting plastered, we would have our own party that included midnight fireworks, games, a buffet of food where each of us brought something special, some of us spending hours on a turkey or ham, and we would also gather together for a meeting in the middle of it all. The meeting was my favorite part, because I'm not a big social party person. I tend to get lost in a crowd, but at a meeting everyone is invited to share.

This doesn't fill every empty moment in your life as your night after night drinking get-togethers. How boring is it to do that same thing every night? So you will have to find other things to fill the time. Some of this will happen automatically, as you start devoting time to things you had been avoiding, but your main contacts will change somewhat.

Speaking of social things in recovery groups, we actually had two of our group members get married at an AA meeting. Well, it involved a meeting as all our gatherings did, but here's these two people in a wedding ceremony as an AA event. Even I thought that was a bit over the top. There are things besides recovery meetings, although at the beginning of sobriety it might seem like it's all meetings. Eventually, that changed for me, in rather big ways too.

Finalround

Like least states, there is more in the world.

Part of my sobriety plan is to seek out alternative and interesting things to do. With today's technology and Google, it's pretty easy to find there is much more to life than drinking events. Finding and trying new things to explore and grow my perspective and life experience. I have found and done things I never thought of doing in the last 25 years of my drinking life.

Surrendering to the idea that their is nothing to do outside of drinking only forces us to think more about it.

Even in a big city, EVERY shop or business with the lights on is serving alcohol?

When I felt like I was always surrounded by drinkers, it's because that's where I was standing.

I start checking midweek by searching "things do do this weekend in ......"
Most are free to boot.

PhoenixJ

I was drinking 5L of rotgut wine a day when I stopped.
All I can say is- little by little, as the cravings lessened- so did my focus on booze and my interest in other activities that did not have booze in it grew- like art.

mariposa

DriGuy

Talk about alternative things to do. The possibilities are never ending and exciting. OK, it's time for me to mention this:

After 10 years of sobriety, I pulled off one of my lifetime goals that I originally formulated in my teens. I sold my house and everything that I owned except for a few small cherished items that I stored in a friend's basement. (No, selling everything I owned was not the goal. It was just necessary to make my dream come true). I bought a used 42 foot sail boat in California, spent some time restoring some of the worn out equipment and sailed it with two friends to Mexico, where I lingered for a couple of months waiting for the end of hurricane season, and then single handedly sailed it myself to Hawaii where I spent the winter.

The next summer, I sailed from Hawaii to Alaska, where I sailed the inland waters among the humpback whales (I saw hundreds of them), and then spent the winter tied to a dock. I whiled away my time on the internet, watched movies on my boat went to AA meetings just for some human contact. The next summer I sailed more waters of Alaska, making my way to Glacier Bay, where I spend a week among the icebergs.

The guidebooks said that going south through the inland passage should begin in August to avoid the nasty winter storms. Two friends from Montana, flew up to Petersburg, and we took a couple of weeks winding our way through the islands to Ketchikan, where they caught a plane back to Montana. I then began the journey down through Canadian waters by myself, it was the middle of August as I journeyed south, and the weather began to warm. I arrived in a scenic wonder called Desolation Sound. Don't let the name fool you. It's a paradise.

The place was packed with boaters, a nightmare, unlike my experience 20 years before, when I sailed there on several occasions, so I headed north again to wait for Labor Day when the crowds would ease up, and then sailed back down again. In the past, I had to be back to work before Labor Day, and didn't know what to expect. The place was empty. Places where I could provision were only open a couple of days a week. Some gas docks were only open on Wednesdays.

There my sister and brother-in-law flew up from Chicago. They took fairy boats and bus rides up to Campell River where I met them, and we spent two weeks exploring the empty bays and harbors of Desolation Sound in glorious warm weather. We took the dingy to shores, walked in the woods and on the beaches, ate sea food, and I took them to my favorite spots. We watched the curious harbor seals watching us as we rested at anchor, and were serenaded by the loons in the evening.

They went back to Chicago, and I made my way down to Victoria, BC where the summer boaters were also gone and the mooring fees were half price for the winter. I hunkered down until the spring. I met some fun Canadians, went to nice restaurants, went to hear the Victoria Symphony play Beethoven's 5th, and found all sorts of neat stuff.

In the Spring, I sailed to Washington State, hung out in the San Juan Islands of Puget Sound for a week, and then went to Seattle and put the boat up for sale. It sold almost right away, and I became a landlubber again.

During the trip, I met interesting people and developed a strong friendship with a couple from Seattle who had sailed over to Hilo, Hawaii for the winter.

DriGuy

Yes, adulthood looses some of that. Add alcohol as the major event, and it's really wrecked, but all that happiness as a kid required not one drink. That seems important somehow.

Kaily

Sounds like a great adventure DriGuy.