Are you going sober for October?

OCTOBER is cold. Wet. Dreary. Simply uttering the word is enough to depress even the most cheerful among us. That’s why I can’t understand why it’s a month that people are being urged to go completely sober, much like Dry January all over again. Although I rather suspect it has something to do with the fact ‘sober,’ and ‘October’ rhyme, I feel it’s a particularly poor choice of timing. Christmas is looming and the sunshine is gone. Surely that’s enough to make us retreat to the pub after work on a Friday?
Nonetheless, I for one will not be going sober for October. Hundreds of people are, apparently, and good for them.
But me? No thanks. I already tried it in January and lasted two weeks. And I don’t believe binge sobriety is the answer.
The smugness, for one, is enough reason for me to shun this entire concept. It’s a bit like the makeup-free selfie all over again, a chance for folk to show off and berate the wine lovers out there for not giving it up.
Take January this year for example. There I was, enjoying a nice glass of red after a stressful day when all of a sudden Mr Detox was looming over me, shaking his head over my ‘lack of willpower.’
Sipping his ‘ice water,’ lime included, I could feel this man judging me.
I suddenly no longer wanted my wine. But I distinctly remember wanting it over his shirt.
Then there were the smug social media users from the detox brigade, the ones who would repeatedly post drivel about every egg white they’d consumed whilst smiling jocundly as the rest of us gripped our hungover heads.
Now I don’t know about you, but having gone an entire month of listening to people bang on about their “wheat-free diets,” announcing their profound misery, mid-squat, over having to watch Alan Carr Chatty Man on Friday’s instead of hitting the pub, is enough to make you feel like pouring some beer down their throats. Although I’m sure they would have appreciated that, as the majority of them looked miserable.
You see, almost just as soon as you join that teetotal bandwagon, somehow you end up becoming one of those boring people who announce, just as soon as you get into the party, that you “can’t stay out late.” The announcement will come with your newest and most proud excuse: “I’m not drinking and I’m tired.” This will largely irritate and disappoint your fellow boozers, who will then become wary of you remembering every incoherent thing they’ve said. These are the times they will want to throttle you.
Giving up booze for a month, particularly this depressing one, also seems a bit like fakery.
You can almost guarantee that once midnight of Halloween arrives, people will be automatically throwing their heads into the homemade punch.
You can pretend one month of laying off the booze is going to make you suddenly bionic, with a body like Gisele and skin like Cheryl Cole, however the true fact is it takes much longer than a month to see the benefits.
Although I rarely drink excessively, going out to a bar without a drink in hand sometimes seems preposterous. You can almost guarantee that having a sober night will never lead to one of those iconic evenings that you cackle about with your friends the next day.
Staying sober for a month also wreaks havoc on your emotions. Anything forbidden, we automatically want more. And even then, if you do cave in to with just a few sips you start believing you’re Amy Winehouse. There’s no winning.
While I welcome anything that’s for charity, I believe the large majority of people taking part will be doing it for themselves, possibly to try and reduce their waistlines and save money rather than donate.
After all, it’s not what you decide to restrict in October, it’s what you put out. So I say save yourself the misery, donate some cash and raise a glass this month. It’s far more fun that way.