How can I support my friend who is trying to quit drinking?
One of the hardest things to do is to pick up the phone and let others know when you’re having a tough time.
Some questions I get are long and detailed; some are short and sweet. Whichever way you want to write it, send me your question via the button below.
Dear SL,
What's a good way to support my friend who's trying to quit alcohol?
I love this question a) because it’s very kind to ask and b) because I think many people have wondered about this and never asked because they feel like it’s something they’re supposed to know intuitively. But everybody is different, and people often need different kinds of support at different stages in their process.
The short and sweet answer to your question is this: ask your friend how you can best support them. I realize that may seem so obvious as to be unhelpful, but I promise that’s only the beginning of the answer, not the whole shebang. It’s worth digging into why and how to bring it up (as well as a few things to consider if you don’t get a clear answer from them).
Congratulate your friend—let’s make him male and call him Sam—on his decision to cut something destructive out of his life. Then, ask what you can do to help. If Sam outlines exactly how you can be supportive—hooray—you’ve got at least part of the answer.
That said, when you are trying to quit drinking, it can be hard to know—much less articulate—what you need from others. Sam might insist, as I have done on countless occasions, that his friends shouldn’t change their behavior just because he’s not drinking. No one likes to be a buzzkill, and if your friends are drinkers, Sam might feel like he has to choose between a night alone or miserably sipping Diet Coke while you and your other friends get wasted. Especially in the early days, it’s easy to feel like being sober is a punishment only the constitutionally afflicted should have to endure.
After I got sober, I was quick to reassure my still-drinking friends that they didn’t need to do anything differently. “I’m the one with the problem,” I would say, “you can do whatever you want.” The thought of anyone changing their behavior because I couldn’t drink was mortifying. Not only did I worry it would draw more attention to my abstinence, but I was also sure that my friends would eventually get bored with me, and then I would lose them. You can show Sam he’ll never have to worry about that with you.
This can largely be done through actions instead of words. If alcohol historically plays a big role in your friendship, find new avenues for hanging out that have nothing to do with booze. Whether it’s playing video games, a pickup basketball game, or a movie—suggesting these largely alcohol-free activities will make it clear that you don’t mind changing your habits while Sam figures out how to be social without drinking. Don’t make a big thing out of it, but if he asks, don’t hesitate to explain the reason, either. You know Sam is trying to quit drinking, so you’re suggesting activities that don’t involve alcohol. What’s important to you is spending time with your friend, not getting hammered with him.
Sober hangs are especially crucial because he’s still in the process of trying to quit. Once I was a year or so into my sobriety, I actually meant it when I said I was fine going to a bar or hanging out with people who were drinking. But that’s a very individual decision with a different timeline for everyone. While he is still trying to get his footing, the safe bet is suggesting sober or sober-ish activities.
In what might seem contradictory to what I said above, I would also keep inviting him to birthdays and other get-togethers unless it will be an especially debaucherous extravaganza. This is something I wish my friends had done. In their attempt to be sensitive and supportive, they declined to invite me to a bunch of events because they assumed I wouldn’t want to be around that much booze. In some cases, they were right. But, as I later told them, I wished they’d invited me and let me make the call. Not doing so tapped into my fears about a sober, socially anemic life.
Sober activities and invites to all but the drunkest shenanigans are two sides of the same coin. They let Sam know that, no matter what his comfort level being sober around drinkers, you’re not going anywhere. His social life hasn’t magically disappeared because he’s made this decision.
All the social stuff aside, the most important thing you can do to support him is to check in with him regularly. You don’t have to say anything about drinking or sobriety, but shoot him a text a couple of times a week or give him a call to say hi. One of the hardest things to do when making a deeply personal, terrifying, massive shift in your life is to pick up the phone and let others know you’re having a tough time. Solve that problem for him. Even if he doesn’t answer, even if he says he’s fine, no one ever ended a friendship because of a few “Hey, man, how’s it going?” texts. I’d bet good money that—even if you don’t get a response—he’ll appreciate that you sent them.
I’d love to hear from sober readers in the comments. What did your loved ones do that helped you feel supported as you quit? What was well-intentioned but ultimately unhelpful?
Send questions and feedback to askasoberlady@gmail.com. By sending a question, you agree to let me reprint it in the newsletter with your name redacted or changed. Emails may be edited for length or clarity.
I’m not a doctor or mental health professional, so my advice shouldn’t be construed as medical or therapeutic. You are free to take or leave it.
This is such a vital subject, especially for people who are seeking the path towards sobriety. As you write with gentle compassion and clarity, the most powerful thing to do is to ask a person what they need as support during their recovery process. While every individual’s sober story is unique, I think there are universal themes on how we can survive as addicts in recovery (I use the word addict in an attempt to be inclusive and in hopes to break free from the stigma of this heavy word). Addiction thrives in secrecy, silence, and isolation. By asking straight forward questions, a friend can learn more about what is helpful, simply offer a listening ear, and show that they care for their friends who may be struggling in their recovery process. Even though I have established many good years of sobriety and service, I do sometimes hold an unspoken fear of being left out, turning into a social pariah, being a Debbie Downer like the SNL Disneyland skit. And I still struggle to navigate spaces where alcohol is abundant; it’s not a huge temptation at this point after being sober a long while, but bar life sometimes brings back unwelcome memories of my past drinking days. I’ve lost old friends who continue to use daily or the ones didn’t make it out of addiction alive. Recovery is a life or death issue, and the sober path is not easy. Still it’s worth it to me because of the sense of awareness, the presence of mind, and the human connections I’ve developed while being sober. I appreciate your references to Dharma Recovery; that’s my group. I like your gentle suggestions in this letter, and I value your open-minded, non-judgmental, graciously compassionate approach to your letter writing. Thank you for your thoughtful insights and for this act of service to our sober community. Finding community support feels like a vital life raft amid the stormy waters of life. In these current times of distress, grief, and turmoil, I’m grateful for your invaluable, heartfelt writing.
Really appreciated your answer on this Katie, thanks as always. I few things that come to mind for me on this one (most of which you already touched on):
Don't treat your friend as if they're broken or fragile. Treat them like they're a full human going through something hard. If you have questions, ask. Don't make assumptions as to what they want or need, as everyone has a unique experience with this.
Let them know, however you can, that you'll be here for them no matter what, if they're drinking or not. In my case, it took me several years from when I started to talk about my struggles with drinking to actually quitting. During that time, the friends whom I could be completely honest with, and let them know that I had stopped, then started, then stopped again, without worrying about their judgement, were extremely valuable. I can't overemphasize how important those real, raw, blunt conversations were to me.