I don’t like flying very much. In the last few years, I’ve done a lot of it. I’ve travelled backwards and forwards between the UK and Spain to house- and pet-sit for friends of mine who live in Andalucia.

I used to find myself getting anxious and imagining that every little noise I heard on the flight signalled a problem. I couldn’t get my head around how a massive metal machine stays airborne. The mechanics of it have never been explained to me in a way I can understand.

In my drinking days, dealing with this was easy. All I had to do was hang on with white knuckles till the drinks trolley came along and then I could relax as the gin or wine or both worked their magic.

I say it was easy but what I really mean is it helped with the anxiety and panic I was experiencing.

What wasn’t easy was the way I had to then keep an eye on the amount I was drinking, the speed I was drinking and the state I was going to be in when I landed. What wasn’t easy was pretending I felt happy, fine and excited to be there when all I really felt was the revenge of the panic I’d managed to hold at bay for a couple of hours. What wasn’t easy was dealing with the start of the come-down. What wasn’t easy was holding it together and managing my drinking for the inevitable late partying that would follow that evening. Oh, the energy and head-space that all of this took from me!

But, to be fair to my ex-best friend, alcohol, it certainly did help to relieve any panic and anxiety on a flight. At least in the short-term. It gave me instant relief and gratification and made the flight bearable.

I remember one of my “best flights” was an evening one. Because it was evening, I’d given myself permission to drink and relax and not worry. I was being picked up from the airport and didn’t have to worry about driving—so hey—carte blanche to indulge! I was sitting next to a Spanish guy and his eight-year-old son. I felt so relaxed, confident and sociable by the time I started on my third mini bottle of wine that I started talking to the two of them.

Looking back, it’s obvious to me that I was trying to be something or someone I didn’t think that I was. I was trying so hard to be at ease, engaging and interesting. For some reason, I can remember it was important to me that I “connected” with the young lad and kept asking him about school and lessons and learning English. This is cringe-worthy now but at the time, I felt great. I felt invincible and like I was a “normal” person, unfettered by an anxiety or panic attack problem and able to socialise confidently to my heart’s content.

For a while, in my memory, this was my best flight because the time had gone so quickly. I had been relaxed and happy and I had had a good conversation.

Now that I’m sober, I can see this flight and that conversation for what it was. A desperate and slurry attempt to survive a scary situation and to appear happy and unconcerned.

Fast forward a few sober years to another flight. By now, I was used to flying sober and had found healthier ways of managing any anxiety, which had simply stopped bothering me.

I sparked up a conversation with the woman to my left and discovered a natural connection. We got on really well. She was interested in Go Get Sober, she told me all about her life in Australia and we shared some pretty personal stuff as well as some shallow magazine articles. We also enjoyed a really good school-girl giggle. By the time we landed and said goodbye, I felt sad to be saying goodbye to her.

We both commented on how quickly this flight had gone and what fun it had been.

I’ve since thought about the differences in the quality of these two conversations and why the second was so much better than the first:

1. When I’m sober, I’m 100% authentically me. That means I was being myself. I wasn’t relying on alcohol to help me pretend to be someone else. Because my self-confidence has grown since I’ve re-discovered who I am and have learnt to like myself, I was able to enjoy the conversation rather than worrying about what I was saying, how I was saying it and how it was being received. It was no effort, it was easy and natural. I was quite happy being me.
2. The connection I made with this woman was instant, mutual and genuine. And, it further embedded my sense of myself as a person worth knowing. If I’d been drinking, the alcohol would have got in the way of that.
3. It reminded me that, when I’m with the right people, I have a great sense of fun, mischief and humour.
4. I was in control of my responses, my speech and spatial boundaries. Afterwards, there was no fear that I’d overstepped a mark, embarrassed myself or offended anyone. Only a feeling of deep satisfaction and connectedness.
5. The laughter! The laughter was belly-deep, loud and uncensored. I continued to grin secretly to myself as I queued through passport control and made my way out of the airport.
6. I arrived at my destination feeling great. Full of energy and excitement and ready for the evening’s entertainment.
7. My memories of the conversation are crystal clear and induce a sense of calm happiness. It’s like they’re in full colour HD instead of fuzzy black and white with blank bits.

When we have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol and we’re considering stopping drinking, it’s easy to imagine that nothing is going to be fun anymore. That we won’t be able to laugh, joke, party, converse or feel socially confident ever again.

And, this simply isn’t true. If you think about the best conversations, the best times you’ve ever had when you’ve been drinking, they’re nothing compared to the joy, the fun and the connections you can have when you’re sober. Time and time again, I’m having conversations with people at work and in my personal life which I’m enjoying so much more than I ever did when I was drinking.

These days, I look forward to flying. I don’t worry about feeling anxious. I wonder who I might meet and what kind of conversations I might have. I look forward to reaching my destination and being eager to explore. But, mostly, I look forward to the sober connections I might make and the sober laughter I might enjoy.