One of my close friends recently had a small holiday gathering. I was happy to attend after having rightfully, but sorely, missed holiday parties for the past two years of the pandemic. But in the absence of such gatherings, I had forgotten a few key things about parties.
I arrived at 9 p.m., a few hours after the celebration started, and was greeted by a bowl full of enticing punch, a bartender handing out festive cocktails, and a slightly intoxicated woman falling down the stairs, tripping over herself, and tumbling to the lower steps. The holidays and drinking alcohol are so intertwined that it’s hard to imagine a familial, friendly, or office holiday event without alcohol (and an ardent tippler tumbling).
As such, for nearly a decade, I’ve committed myself to Dry January, a public health campaign that began in Great Britain whereby people abstain or reduce their drinking for the month of January. In fact, I really don’t drink much at all any more, but there was a time that Dry January was a sort of anti-holiday for me, where I would repair the damage done from months of drinking too much eggnog, mulled wine, and champagne at holiday parties. As a professional drinker — literally a spirits judge, bar owner, and writer on spirits and cocktails — I had a doubly good excuse to pause drinking alcohol. November and December were often the finale of a besotted year.
There was one particular Dry January where I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. My body felt as though it was missing something. It was — it had become accustomed to so many drinks and late, revelry-fueled nights. Sitting in bed, stone sober, was an anomaly. In February, when I eased my way back into drinking, sleep came quicker — at least for the first couple of days. Then it was back to feeling a sense of restlessness at night.
If all of this is painting a complicated picture of what alcohol does to sleep, then my story is working: The interaction of alcohol and sleep is complicated. It is an inconsistent benefactor for quality sleep. The scientific consensus maintains that regular drinking is disruptive to sleep, even if it’s not necessarily at a level of alcohol dependence. For instance, a season of holiday parties would count.
Just so you know, the woman who fell down the stairs was totally fine. She was caught at the bottom by a thoughtful friend and shepherded away. And, I’m fine, too. I’ve found a way to sleep despite this and my entire career as a late-night shift worker.
But it’s worth thinking about how alcohol might affect your sleep before lying in bed awake or tumbling down a set of stairs.
How to enjoy the holidays without overindulging in alcohol
Here are some ways that I take stock now that I don’t drink during the holidays:
First, I am clear about how much I intend to drink, if I do intend to drink. When you attend a holiday party, it’s worth setting a limit for the number of drinks you’ll consume. You don’t have to meet that limit, but it helps to guide your consumption.
I find it useful to share my strategy with a partner or friend. That way, if I exceed my limit and I am the one falling down the stairs, they can also catch me (hopefully) and shepherd me away.
I drink as many delicious non-alcoholic drinks as I want. Fortunately, there are so many great non-alcoholic beers, wines, and cocktails. At that same party, my friend offered me a non-alcoholic beer. I drank two, did some karaoke, and drove home.
Obviously, not everyone is so understanding. There are people who look side-eyed at the sober or sober-ish, wondering if they’re an alcoholic, pregnant, or just plain boring. I explain to people that I’m not drinking and leave it at that — I don’t feel the need to get into the why. Should they pressure me, I tell them I don’t want to drink or, in cases where the person isn’t convinced, I just say I’m on medication or going to the gym early. This is a silly thing, to have to side step evangelical imbibers as an adult, but everyone has their cause. Staying upright is mine.
Reducing your consumption of alcohol or cutting it out altogether, is no guarantor of sleep. It is, however, a prerequisite of good sleep. Alcohol is a proven inhibitor of good sleep. By all means, enjoy yourself this holiday season — I have thus far. My friend and I sang a duet that was riveting, we thought. My solo performance of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, not as much. (At least I was sober enough to be aware that I was tragically off-key). But it was all possible with or without alcohol. And, as it were, with or without the resultant quality of sleep.
Happy Holidays!
