Correct Your Self-Talk: How to Answer the Drinking Voice

Have you ever stopped to think about how much you talk to yourself?

Not necessarily out loud. Although I do that, too!

I’m talking about the constant conversation going on inside your head. The thoughts that tell you what you need, what you deserve, what you’re capable of, and how you should feel about yourself.

For years, one particular thought dominated my internal conversation.

I need a drink.

I must have told myself that a thousand times a day.

Had a difficult morning? I need a drink.

Something good happened? I need a drink.

Feeling stressed, bored, frustrated, tired, or overwhelmed?

You guessed it.

I need a drink.

It became my automatic response to practically everything.

And the problem wasn’t just how often I said it. The problem was that I believed it.

I didn’t realize how closely my negative self-talk and drinking habits were connected. The things I told myself made it easier to keep drinking, even when I wanted to stop.

Meet Your Drinking Voice

I call that persistent little voice in your head the Drinking Voice.

It’s the part of your thinking that has learned to associate alcohol with pleasure, relief, reward, and just about anything else you can imagine.

And it can be remarkably persuasive.

When I was drinking, my Drinking Voice had an answer for everything.

Alcohol will help you concentrate.

You’ll be more creative after a drink.

You’ll feel better once you have some wine.

Of course, those things weren’t true.

Alcohol wasn’t improving my concentration or making me more creative. But I’d repeated those ideas so often that they sounded perfectly reasonable.

And whenever my Drinking Voice suggested a drink, I generally gave it what it wanted.

That only strengthened the habit.

The more often I responded to a thought by drinking, the more automatic that response became.

Eventually, I didn’t even have to think about it.

Quitting Doesn’t Immediately Silence the Voice

When I first tried to quit drinking, I discovered something frustrating.

My Drinking Voice wasn’t interested in my new plans.

Not one bit.

In fact, it seemed determined to talk me out of them.

Just one won’t hurt.

You’ve been so good!

We can start tomorrow.

It’s the only thing that will make you feel better.

Sound familiar?

Notice how clever some of those statements are.

“You’ve been so good” makes drinking sound like a reward for not drinking.

“We can start tomorrow” makes postponing your decision sound perfectly reasonable.

And “It’s the only thing that will make you feel better” turns alcohol into the solution, even when alcohol has been creating many of the problems.

My Drinking Voice knew exactly what to say because those were the same arguments I’d been accepting for years.

But here’s what I eventually learned:

A thought isn’t a fact. And having a thought doesn’t mean you have to act on it.

That realization changed the way I responded.

Stop Automatically Agreeing With Yourself

We tend to believe our own thoughts.

After all, they’re coming from inside our heads. Surely we know what we’re talking about!

Well, not always.

Think about how often you’ve told yourself something that turned out to be completely wrong.

I can’t do this.

I’ll never figure it out.

Everybody is going to think I’m ridiculous.

And then you did it, figured it out, or discovered that nobody was paying nearly as much attention as you imagined.

Your Drinking Voice works much the same way.

It makes statements with great confidence, but that doesn’t make them true.

The first step is simply to notice what it’s saying.

When the thought I need a drink appears, don’t automatically accept it.

Ask yourself:

Do I really need a drink? Or is this an old habit talking?

That small interruption gives you an opportunity to make a different choice.

Answer the Drinking Voice With the Truth

You don’t have to get into a long argument with your Drinking Voice.

You just have to stop letting it have the final word.

Suppose it tells you:

I need a drink to relax.

You might answer:

No, I need to relax. Alcohol isn’t the only way to do that.

Or perhaps it says:

I’ve had a terrible day. I deserve a drink.

Try:

I’ve had a terrible day. I deserve to do something that will actually make me feel better.

And when it comes up with the old favorite:

Just one won’t hurt.

You can remind yourself:

I know where that thinking has taken me before. I’m not interested in going back.

The point isn’t to find some magical sentence that makes every craving disappear.

It’s to remind yourself that you have a choice.

You can recognize the thought, question it, and respond with something more truthful.

The more you practice, the more natural that response can become.

My Drinking Voice Still Makes an Appearance

I wish I could tell you that my Drinking Voice disappeared completely after I quit drinking.

It didn’t.

But it’s much quieter these days.

One thing that still gets its attention is seeing people enjoying wine.

There’s something about a beautiful glass of wine, a lovely setting, and people looking as though they’re having a wonderful time that can make drinking seem awfully appealing.

I still romanticize it occasionally.

My Drinking Voice sees that scene and starts making suggestions.

But now I recognize what’s happening.

I’m not remembering the whole experience of drinking. I’m focusing on the attractive little picture in front of me.

I’m leaving out everything that made me want to quit in the first place.

So I either ignore the thought or answer it with the truth.

Sometimes I even laugh at it.

It doesn’t get to make my decisions anymore.

And that’s a very different relationship from the one we used to have.

Your Drinking Voice Isn’t Your Only Inner Critic

There’s another kind of self-talk worth paying attention to.

The way you talk to yourself about yourself.

I used to be pretty unkind to the person looking back at me in the mirror.

You’re fat.

You’re old.

You’re ugly.

Not exactly encouraging conversation, was it?

And the worst part is that when you repeat those things often enough, you can start believing them.

Today, my mirror conversations are considerably more pleasant.

I look at myself and think, Not bad!

Now, would it be even better if I looked in the mirror and said, “You’re gorgeous!”?

Probably.

I’m not quite there yet.

But I’ve come a long way from the woman who could barely find a nice thing to say about herself.

And I’ll take that progress.

My confidence and self-esteem have grown tremendously since I quit drinking. I believe in myself now. I take care of myself. I recognize that I deserve a happy, healthy, fulfilling life.

And I no longer spend my days tearing myself down.

That’s a change worth celebrating.

Talk to Yourself Like Someone You Care About

Here’s a question I want you to consider.

Would you talk to a friend the way you sometimes talk to yourself?

Imagine your friend was struggling to quit drinking.

Would you tell them they were hopeless? That they’d never succeed? That they were weak because they had a craving?

I hope not!

You’d probably remind them how far they’ve come. You’d encourage them to keep trying. You’d help them recognize what they were doing right.

Why shouldn’t you offer yourself that same kindness?

You don’t have to pretend everything is wonderful when it isn’t.

And you don’t have to stand in front of a mirror making declarations you don’t believe.

Start with something believable.

Instead of I’ll never be able to quit drinking, try I’m learning how to live without alcohol.

Instead of I always mess things up, try I can learn from what happened and make a different choice next time.

Instead of I’m not good enough, try I’m working on becoming the person I want to be.

Your words should help you move forward, not keep you trapped in the past.

It’s a Practice, Not a Personality Transplant

I still have ups and downs.

There are days when my thinking is more positive than others. There are moments when an old thought sneaks back in.

That’s normal.

Changing your self-talk doesn’t mean you’ll never have another negative thought.

It means you’re learning not to accept every negative thought as the truth.

Some days you’ll catch yourself immediately.

Other days you might not notice until you’ve been listening to the same old story for a while.

When you do notice, you can change the conversation.

No drama required.

You don’t have to criticize yourself for having a negative thought. That would just be adding another negative thought to the collection!

Notice it. Question it. Correct it when necessary.

Then get on with your day.

Give Yourself a Better Message

One of the reasons I believe so strongly in changing your thinking is that I’ve experienced how much difference it can make.

For years, I told myself I needed alcohol.

Now I know I don’t.

For years, I said unkind things about myself.

Now I recognize my strengths, appreciate the changes I’ve made, and genuinely like the person I’ve become.

Those changes didn’t happen overnight.

But they happened.

And if your Drinking Voice has been running the conversation for years, you can begin changing that conversation, too.

The next time it tells you that you need a drink, remember:

You don’t have to believe everything you think.

And you certainly don’t have to do everything your Drinking Voice suggests.

If you’d like some help practicing, try the Challenge Your Drinking Voice interactive tool on the Quit Drinking Plan website. It walks you through identifying an unhelpful thought, questioning it, and creating a more truthful response.

Final Thoughts

The conversations you have with yourself matter.

They influence how you feel, what you believe, and the choices you make.

For a long time, I let my Drinking Voice tell me what I needed. I also let my inner critic tell me what was wrong with me.

I’m much happier with the conversations we’re having these days.

My Drinking Voice still occasionally tries to get a word in.

My inner critic sometimes makes an appearance.

But neither one is in charge anymore.

And when I look in the mirror?

Not bad!

Actually, getting better all the time.