Why Am I Still Unhappy After Quitting Drinking?

The part of sobriety we don’t talk about enough.

Disclaimer: I am a person in recovery sharing personal experiences, not a licensed medical professional. Alcohol withdrawal can be dangerous. Please consult a doctor or healthcare provider for medical advice.

Introduction

There was a man in my AA group that once told me, “I never realized how many problems I had until I quit drinking”. Back then, at the beginning of my recovery, I didn’t understand what he meant. After all, drinking was the entire problem, wasn’t it? Thirteen years of drinking had led me to ruining my career, finances, relationships, everything. I believed that the drinking had caused the problems, so it made sense that quitting alcohol would solve them all. 

I was wrong. 

Drinking hadn’t caused my problems the same way that alcohol wasn’t the reason I became an alcoholic. I became an alcoholic because—apart from inheriting the alcoholism genes from my grandparents—I had several mental health issues that had gone untreated for years. Alcohol helped me numb the pain, anxiety and discomfort with which I was forced to live every day. 

Alcohol wasn’t the problem; it just made me forget that I had any.

If alcohol doesn’t cause our problems, then quitting drinking won’t solve them. This means that as soon as you quit drinking, you finally see all the problems that you accumulated. They engulf you like an avalanche, unbearably forceful, pinning you to the ground. And you will stay there, trapped, until you take action. 

Alcohol withdrawal

Let’s start with the most obvious culprit—withdrawal. Alcohol withdrawal is a group of symptoms that affect a person with Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) who reduces or stops consuming alcohol. It can range from mild to severe and can last from a few days to several months. About 50% of persons with AUD display symptoms of alcohol withdrawal.

Symptoms of withdrawal may start within a few hours of stopping the consumption of alcohol. Some symptoms may include:

• Headache
• Anxiety, nervousness or irritability
• Insomnia
• Excessive sweating
• Upset stomach
• Heart palpitations
• Increased blood pressure
• Increased heart rate
• Hyperthermia
• Tremor
• Seizures
• Delirium

Depending on the severity of your alcohol withdrawal, symptoms may start mild and grow to extremes, generally peaking between 24 and 72 hours after stopping. For people with mild to moderate severity of withdrawal, symptoms start fading after the peak. In general, after 72 hours, most symptoms subside. People can experience prolonged withdrawal, in which they will still have symptoms for weeks or months, though usually milder.

So how and why does withdrawal happen? Well, according to the Cleveland Clinic, “Alcohol (ethanol) depresses (slows down) your central nervous system (CNS). If you consistently consume significant amounts of alcohol, your CNS gets used to this effect. Your CNS must work harder to overcome the depressant effects of alcohol to keep your body functioning.” Basically, without alcohol, your CNS needs to work harder to regulate itself, leading to the symptoms.

We’re done with the technical speech. What does this all mean, anyway? Imagine that you had a magic switch that every time you pressed it, it would cause you to relax and feel good. With time, you start pressing that button every day, until eventually your body unlearns how to make itself feel good without the button. Basically, when you stop drinking, your body doesn’t know how to self-regulate and it panics.

Even mild symptoms, like insomnia, anxiety and headaches, can be very unnerving when they last for a while. If you had any underlying mental illness, these can also get worse (or better, in some cases). We will talk more about them later in this article. Keep on reading.

“I quit drinking. Why don’t I feel better?”

Regardless of why you started drinking in the first place, the drinking will eventually cause you troubles in all areas of your life. To everybody else, it’s the source of the problem. To you, it’s a crutch. So, think of alcohol not as the cause of all your problems, but as a consequence of them. This means that most people with Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD)—when they finally quit drinking—believe that their problems will be solved.

I spent thirteen of my life drinking and generating all sorts of problems around me. When I quit, I was very surprised to find out that the problems didn’t magically disappear. I expected to feel elated, happy—or at least mildly satisfied—but these feelings did not come. When I quit drinking, I felt empty.

Not only had I rid myself of the crutch that made me bear the weight of the world, but now I had isolated myself from my “friends”, stopped going to the places I loved going and stopped feeling the carelessness that alcohol used to give me. 

I was stuck, alone, with my emotions and the results of all the things I had fucked up in my drinking years.

We come into sobriety with big expectations. We hear that we will sleep better, lose some weight, think more clearly, feel more confident, less sad, less angry. We expect all the pieces to fall magically into place the moment we get sober. 

You quit drinking and think, “is this it?” 

We believe that getting sober is the last step of the journey. But it’s not. It’s merely the beginning.

Alcohol wasn’t the only problem

Quitting removes alcohol from the equation, but it doesn’t fix what’s broken. Instead, it allows you mental clarity and energy to finally deal with those problems. If you damaged your relationship with your partner with your drinking, sobriety won’t mend it back together. 

AUD often comes accompanied by other mental health issues, such as depression, trauma, anxiety, ADHD, PTSD. These conditions—when left untreated—can generate a lot of pain on the individual, who ends up turning to drugs and alcohol to deal with the unpleasant feelings. So, if you had any psychological conditions before you quit drinking, you probably will still have them in sobriety. Even worse—you now get to feel them at full capacity. 

Does this mean that you are doomed to suffering? Of course not. It means that you have a lot of work to do. It means that it will take effort. It will take time—usually longer than you expect. You will have to act. It will be uncomfortable and painful, but it’s the only way. 

Perhaps you were drinking to run away from difficult situations in your life—loneliness, an unhappy marriage, financial problems, dissatisfaction with work, or low self-esteem. Without the intoxicating effects of alcohol, it’s likely that those situations will be even more impactful for you. You will feel more lonely, more unhappy with your marriage, more dissatisfied with work. And you should. The feeling of being stuck in tough situations is what enables us to take action.

I can almost guarantee you that alcohol wasn’t your only problem. It was just keeping you from seeing the truth—that there’s a lot of shit for you to solve.

Alcohol was doing a job for you

One night, I remember leaving my mom’s house to go to a soccer game with friends and saying, “If we win, we’re going to go drinking to celebrate!” To which she asked, “And what if you lose?” Fair point. “Then we’ll go out drinking to mourn the loss,” I said smiling. 

For many years, alcohol was the answer to every difficult situation that appeared in my life. Broke up with a boyfriend? Shots. Lost a job? Beers. Crashed my car? Vodka. It was also my primary companion for any happy moments. Friend getting married? Champagne. Got my dream job? The finest whiskey. Bought a new car? Let’s go bar-hopping on it. 

I didn’t need to learn to suffer or celebrate on my own because alcohol was doing all the heavy-lifting for me. It provided the solution for every part of my life:

1. It gave me confidence when I was shy and insecure. 
2. It provided an escape when I didn’t want to deal with tough situations. 
3. It numbed my emotions when I went I lost a loved one or ended a relationship.
4. It allowed me to act as an extrovert when I had so much trouble building social connections.
5. It gave me relief from boredom—giving me an excuse to never be alone with myself.
6. It anesthetized my brain so that stress didn’t drive me insane.
7. It provided me with relief from the debilitating anxiety that I felt. 
8. It allowed me to feel momentarily disconnected from the severe depression that was crushing me from the inside.
9. It was my only choice for “having fun”. I didn’t want to go to the movies, or play paintball, or go out for coffee, or stay in to watch Netflix. I wanted to drink.

I’m sure you may have a similar list. I suggest that you write down a list of all the things that alcohol did for you. What was it silencing? What was it masquerading? What was it numbing? Because the moment that you take alcohol away from the equation, those situations will still be there. You will still have to deal with them. 

The question now is a different one. If you drank to dampen your loneliness, what will you do now that you don’t drink? What will you do to no longer feel lonely? What will you do about your depression? About your resentment toward the parent who abandoned you? Those issues will finally rise to the surface now that you are sober. 

You are now faced with a choice. Will you do something about it? Or will you crumble in fear and idleness?

Loneliness in early sobriety

Usually, there is a whole lifestyle associated with alcoholism. It’s not just that you drink. It’s where you go to drink, who you drink with, when you drink. You had an entire life built around your destructive drinking habit. In sobriety, you quit drinking but what happens with everything else?

One of the hardest lessons I learned early in my sobriety was that half of my “friends” weren’t really my friends. Not that they didn’t really like me—I later found out that I didn’t like them. Even when I go out nowadays with my actual friends and they drink, by the time they are drunk I have lost interest in the conversations and I go home. Many times, I don’t even go out with them if alcohol is involved. Not because I can’t handle it, but because I can no longer match their vibe. It’s uncomfortable. 

Early sobriety can be very lonely for two main reasons: first, because you lose many friendships that were tied to your drinking habits; second, because almost no one will understand what you are going through. AUD is still a taboo in society and most people don’t know what to do with it. Even your best friends or close family members will have a hard time understanding how to act around you or how to help you. 

You would think that you’d be lonely because you’re no longer going to parties, clubs and bars with your buddies. It’s a tough lesson to learn that you can feel lonely even among people who love you. This is why so many alcoholics find solace in support groups—they can be around people who know what they’ve been through and can offer real support. If you feel like support groups could be useful to you, I’d suggest you try them as soon as possible. It might help with the loneliness. 

If you don’t like the idea of sharing your experiences with strangers, then you may have to share them with others—a doctor, a therapist, a partner, close friends, a parent. A great part of the loneliness comes from the feeling of being a pariah in the community, of being different, broken, misunderstood. 

The only way to fix that is by talking.

Dealing with mental health

I’ve seen a lot of people ruin their lives with drugs and alcohol because of the stigma they have with mental health services. I had a friend who suffered for years with burnout and panic because he didn’t want to take medication. My sister avoided seeking help for her anxiety for the same reason. My grandmother avoided treating her depression because she didn’t want “society” to know—whatever that meant. It seems that treating a mental illness is more embarrassing than self-medicating with narcotics and booze.

Before I quit drinking, I had already been treating my depression, anxiety and ADHD for three years, but nothing had worked. The moment I quit, my depression immediately started to subside. Disclaimer: this is my personal experience and should not be taken as a generalized claim. We are all different. Within three weeks, I started to breathe normally and the feeling of dread started to fade. Alcohol is a depressant and it was feeding into my illness, powering it, rendering the medication and therapy useless.

It is possible that your alcoholism was obscuring underlying mental conditions. If that was the case, then now you have the clarity of mind to finally deal with them. Book that appointment with the shrink, call up a therapist, get those meds. You are closer to home than you imagine. Without the toxins in your blood, your mind is free to deal with your real issues, whatever they may be.

The other possibility is that you are fully aware of any trauma or mental illnesses that you may have and you don’t want to face them for whatever reason. Some people are afraid to admit they have depression. Some are embarrassed that they’re dealing with anxiety. Others don’t want to accept how trauma has paralyzed them. If this is your case, then there’s no shortcure—you have to ask for help. Seeking help is not a weakness—it is the greatest strength a human being can demonstrate (as Steve Jobs once famously said). Nobody wants to have psychiatric conditions. None of us dreamed of becoming anxious adults living on Prozac. We don’t want to spend hours at therapy distilling our greatest traumas in front of a stranger. That doesn’t matter. Pride will get you nowhere. You already did the hardest part, which was quitting drinking. As long as you allow yourself to be vulnerable and accept help, the rest should be easier.

Lastly, if you started feeling symptoms of mental health issues after you quit drinking, that doesn’t make them less important and you shouldn’t wait for them to just “go away”. Take care of yourself. Only you can do this.

Grieving your old life

It is common for those who are in toxic relationships with abusive partners to still suffer their loss and miss them once they’re gone. You can know alcohol was destroying you and still miss it. As I mentioned before, there was a whole lifestyle associated with your drinking. It was part of your life, part of who you were. 

It is normal for you to miss that life. In hindsight, we tend to forget the bad moments and only remember the good ones. The same happens with crappy relationships. You finally pull free and immediately your brain starts telling you that they weren’t that bad. You start doubting yourself and your decisions. This is normal. This will happen to you. 

You had a life that included certain friendships, visiting some specific places every week, having fun and getting drunk often. I’m sure there were moments in which you were happy. Those moments will linger inside you, inviting you to feel them once again. You were more care-free, more spontaneous. People thought you were cool. But it was all a lie. 

That wasn’t really you. It was a flanderized you. Maybe you’re not so spontaneous. That’s ok. Maybe you’re not so cool. Absolutely ok. Maybe you don’t really like parties. Also ok. Maybe you miss the numbness. It’s ok. You will feel the pain of loss. You will have to mourn it. Bury it and grieve it. 

Then, it’ll be time to find out who you really are. And build a real life around that.

“Was I happier when I drank?”

It’s ok to have this thought. I’ve had it many times. “Were things better when I drank?” I often asked myself. As I mentioned before, alcohol shows us a fictionalized version of ourselves and our lives and we tend to mistake it for real life. 

You may have felt excitement, pleasure, escape, relief, contentment, actual well-being when drinking. The feelings could be real. But the effect wasn’t. Alcohol makes you happy the same way that a good drama movie makes you cry. You feel sad during the movie because the director intentionally creates situations that make you sad. But the sadness isn’t real. 

The effects that alcohol has on us are just that—side effects, caused by toxic chemicals that are poured into our bloodstream and affect our thoughts, emotions, and behavior. You may feel like you are “naked” without alcohol. There’s nothing to mask your natural awkwardness, your insecurity. There’s nothing to help you believe that an electronic party at 2 am is actually fun. So you think that there’s something wrong with you. 

Boredom, idleness—these are normal parts of our lives. Life isn’t always exciting. We don’t always have to be chasing the next thrill, the next big adventure. I’d argue that I get more pleasure out of writing these articles and reading books than I did when I went out partying. It’s a different kind of fun. One that you learn to love over time. 

That doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy a party, a bar or a concert while sober. I still occasionally go to those places with my friends. But the type of enjoyment is different. It comes from the conversations, the bonding, the live music, rather than from the intoxicating feeling of alcohol. 

Part of the recovery process is learning who you are without alcohol. Who you really are. Because—believe me—that person that you were before… that wasn’t really you. 

I think you’re way cooler now.

Learning how to socialize again

You don’t necessarily lose your entire social circle when you quit drinking. Some people will distance themselves, but others will draw closer. If your entire social life revolved around drinking, then rebuilding that part of yourself will take more effort. 

If you still like the same kind of events, maybe that won’t be so bad. You can socialize with your old friends, but it will also be easier to make new friends. But it could be the case that you need to stay away from those environments. Especially in the beginning. Or maybe you’ll realize that you don’t really like those types of events without the alcohol. 

Essentially, you’ll have to rediscover what makes life worth living. What gives you pleasure naturally. What makes you feel good without intoxicating you. And regarding people—who are the ones with whom you feel comfortable sober. Sometimes it will be as easy as rekindling lost relationships. Other times, it means starting new friendships from scratch.

Socializing is a scary thing. Loneliness is a real problem for adults in general; let alone those recovering from AUD. It’s like we forget how to be ourselves around people after a certain age. Alcohol used to give us a boost, but without it we are left to our own devices. We will have to do the unthinkable—proactively make friends. 

First you’ll have to discover who you are and what you actually like to do without alcohol. Then, you’ll have to learn to find friends who are aligned with your new lifestyle. We quit drinking believing that our lives will be easy from then on, only to realize that it’s the tip of the iceberg.

Dating, parties, dinners, vacations, celebrations—even sitting around talking with friends—can feel strangely unfamiliar without alcohol. You essentially have to relearn behaviors you’ve practiced with alcohol for years. 

Sobriety isn’t recovery

Not drinking is one action. That is what we call sobriety. Recovery is another monster altogether. Recovery entails rebuilding your entire life based on your new condition as a sober person. You spent years escaping your problems and evading your responsibilities by hiding behind alcohol. Now you have to start over and take the reins of your own life. 

Relationships, hobbies, physical health, community, career, purpose, routine, dating, parenting—all these things were affected in one way or another by your continued drinking. Being sober will not magically fix them. Working on those areas of your life is a herculean task that will take you an entire lifetime to achieve. Don’t let that discourage you.

I’ve found the secret to life, the universe and everything. The purpose of our lives is to continually seek, reinvent and create new purposes for ourselves. I called my living “recovery” for many years, because I was still actively rebuilding my life. Nowadays, I just call it “living”. 

And it takes time. A LOT of time.

Here are some real-life examples from someone who has been there:

1. After I quit drinking, I had to restart my career from scratch, going from a mid-manager at a multinational company to being a part-time entry-level analyst at a small company. I spent three years rebuilding my reputation before I could try bigger, better jobs. 
2. I essentially quit drinking in 2015. I finally discovered the secret to socializing and making friends around 2021. It took me six years to learn to socialize without alcohol. 
3. I only became financially independent in 2022, seven years after I quit drinking and at the ripe age of 37.
4. I finally reached a healthy weight this year (2026), eleven years after I became sober.

But do you know what was immediately repaired the moment I quit drinking? My relationship with my mom. And for that I am very grateful. It was my first win. I’m sure you’ll find a few small first wins when you quit drinking. The rest will come with time and effort.

I hope I’ve helped you understand the many reasons why sobriety doesn’t fix our lives from the beginning. It took me thirteen years to fuck up my life and another eleven to rebuild it. 

Anthony Hopkins won his first Oscar 17 years after he quit drinking. Does it mean that those previous years didn’t count? Does it mean that he wasn’t already successful?

No. Each moment that we are working toward living a better life is a sacred moment. Remember, the purpose of living is to work toward finding purpose. If anyone asks, I came up with that myself. 

Good luck. I believe in you.