It’s never too late to quit drinking alcohol. I should know.
When I finally stopped drinking after half a century, I discovered that abstinence has physical and mental rewards, even when you’re in your 70s.
I started drinking alcohol around age 18 as a freshman in college. At the time I had no idea I would go on to drink almost every day for the next 54 years, through marriage, fatherhood and my entire career as a writer and public relations specialist in New York. I also had no inkling that just before I turned 72, I would manage to quit for good, my reckoning long overdue.
Right from the beginning, my drinking was a problem. As a college freshman, I once downed almost a full bottle of vodka and had a hangover so severe that I lay on the floor for an entire day, worried that lifting my head would give me a concussion. Two years later, I drove home from campus drunk, not to mention speeding, at 3 a.m.
A few years after graduating, I went on a blind date with the woman who has been my wife for 46 years. I was so jittery I got plastered on red wine, then unwittingly insulted her with an off-color joke, almost blowing our relationship before it started.
In the first years of our marriage, I drank every night. At first, it took me about 10 days to polish off a bottle of vodka. After a while the bottle started to last eight days, then five. I drank to feel better, whether I was in a good mood or a bad one. I drank to ease the pressure I felt as a family breadwinner, and to muffle my anxieties about my future.
I knew I had become a borderline alcoholic, but I told myself it was no big deal, because I drank only at night, never during the day. No one ever caught me walking into walls or missing an important deadline or losing a job because of the alcohol coursing through my veins. But I hated feeling that I needed to drink to feel good, so at age 35 I quit hard liquor. I switched to red wine, and for the next 36 years, ever diligent in my commitment, I drank a glass or two or three every night.
By the time I reached age 69, there seemed no reason to quit. What was the worst that could happen—chopping a year or three off my life expectancy? Then my doctor, concerned about an emerging heart issue, advised me to stick to one drink per night. That was in keeping with guidance from the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism that healthy adults over 65 partake of no more than seven drinks a week.
As we get older, the liver metabolizes alcohol more slowly, so it lingers in our bloodstream longer and we get tipsy faster. This heightened sensitivity can aggravate high blood pressure, diabetes and other chronic illnesses as well as raise the risks of accidents, falls and fractures. Alcohol can also interact adversely with the multiple medications older people may be taking.
Seniors are increasingly aware of the health risks from alcohol, but quitting is hard. Typically, people stop drinking alcohol or decide to drink less by about age 35, when we start to have responsibilities like marriage, parenting and careers. Older people, by contrast, are more likely to turn to liquor to cope with boredom, loneliness, depression or grief.
The habit of tippling is so ingrained in our daily routine that it can be tough to break. Plus, the withdrawal symptoms that can emerge during a detox phase can be more onerous for older people. One study concluded, “Modifying older people’s drinking is likely to be a challenge, as well-established patterns of behavior can be hard to change."
That first night after my doctor told me to cut back, I had only one glass of wine. But the next night I had two, and the following night I had three. I was once again headed in a direction that was unmistakable. So three months before my 72nd birthday, I stopped cold turkey—without any family intervention, 12-step program or detox clinic.
In quitting without help, I’m something of an exception. Older adults who undergo professional treatment, involving close personal attention and medical supervision, are more likely to succeed at getting sober. Options available for help range from one-on-one counseling to outpatient programs and residential rehabilitation.
To start, your best bet is to talk with your physician. The NIH also offers some useful recommendations: “Count how many ounces of alcohol you are getting in each drink. Keep track of the number of drinks you have each day. Decide how many days a week you want to drink. Plan some days that are free of alcohol."
How has abstinence panned out for me? Early on, my nerves often felt scraped raw. My mood pinballed from one minute to the next. My wife and I had some of our worst arguments ever, almost to the breaking point.
But I got off pretty easy. Alcohol could have ruined me the way it has ruined so many others. I could have lost my family and my career. Every day older alcoholics, afflicted with loss of judgment, balance and coordination, die from fatal falls, traffic accidents or drifting to sleep with a burning cigarette in hand.
After 21 months of sobriety, I’ve settled into a version of stability. Abstinence brings rewards, as any recovering alcoholic will quickly attest. I think straighter, sleep more soundly and behave more maturely. And I crave as never before to understand and appreciate life—my family, humanity at large, the universe itself—in all its glorious complexity.
How long this spell will last I have no idea. For all I know, I’m merely taking a long break here. But this much is certain: I’ve learned that sobriety can be downright intoxicating.
Bob Brody, a consultant and essayist, is author of the memoir “Playing Catch with Strangers: A Family Guy (Reluctantly) Comes of Age."
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