Before I get into it, I am just going to say today was hard. It was the first day I have felt cravings, badly. And to make it worse, I didn’t even have the kids at the time, so I can’t blame them! I don’t know why or what caused it, but it definitely made me sit up and take notice. Proud to say though, I didn’t succumb. I made it here tonight, camomile tea in hand, to talk about the science stuff: how habits are formed, why they are so hard to break, and what can help.
The Habit Loop
It’s 5:00 pm and I walk through the front door after a stressful workday. I head straight to the kitchen, open the fridge, and pour a glass of wine. I sip—okay, skull—it while starting dinner. As those first few sips hit my system, I finally begin to unwind.
That right there is a habit loop. The kitchen environment combined with my stress is the cue. This triggers the behaviour (pouring the wine) for the temporary reward of feeling relaxed. Any habitual behaviour follows this exact pattern, whether it is good for you, bad for you, or somewhere in the middle.
Repeat this loop enough times, and it becomes hardwired into our caveman brains. That is exactly why habits are so bloody hard to break.
The Hamster Wheel of Desire
Also partly responsible for this delightful hamster wheel of desire is dopamine, our “reward-seeking” neurotransmitter. This stimulating brain chemical releases when we anticipate a reward. It drives our focus and motivation, forcing us to chase a specific outcome. Effectively, dopamine isn’t the feeling of pleasure itself; it is the burning itch we just have to scratch.
The problem arises when you try to break the loop. Your brain doesn’t get the memo. When you encounter the cue, dopamine still floods your system, but no reward follows. Without that payoff, your dopamine levels plummet below baseline, making you feel all seven degrees of crap. The only thing your brain thinks will fix it? That original reward.
The Multi-Headed Monster of Cues
In the case of wine and me, cues and triggers come in many shapes and forms. It can be feeling stressed or feeling relaxed. It’s socialising or feeling lonely. It’s being bored, being hungry, or just… being.
A really BIG trigger is my kids; anyone want to babysit until they are 18? Unfortunately, because these triggers are everywhere, simply avoiding them isn’t a realistic option.
To make matters worse, these neural loops cannot be erased. That is why relapse is so common and so easy. However, they can be overwritten. Because you can’t just delete a habit, the focus has to shift toward creating a new, more positive routine rather than just trying to force yourself to stop the old one.
What the Hell…
This is what has been my downfall in the past. I’ve gone months without a sip, then for various reasons, I’ve bent the rules, had one or two, then completely tossed out the rule book and downed a bottle. It’s that little voice screaming in my head, “Well, you already ruined your streak. What the hell, may as well drink the whole bottle.”
Psychologists actually call this the “What the Hell Effect”. A minor stuff-up triggers a wave of guilt, and your brain decides the best way to cure that guilt is with the exact comfort mechanism that caused it.
I need to remember one slip-up doesn’t mean the train has derailed; it’s a minor pothole in the road of life. I just need to put on my big girl pants and get back on the horse (how many metaphors can I put in one paragraph?!).
A Fraction Too Much Friction? Or Just the Right Amount?
This is where removing the wine from the house is key. Increasing how hard it is to access the wine can be pivotal to maintaining my sobriety in weak moments.
If wine is in the fridge, the friction is low. If it’s in the wine rack, it’s slightly more challenging, but definitely still doable. But if I have to get off my arse, corral the children into the car, and navigate the supermarket with them, then there’s a high likelihood it will just be too hard, and the good fight will win that battle!
This also works with creating positive habits: reduce the friction for the good and increase the friction for the less desirable. For me, a great example of this is getting my gym gear ready the night before and leaving it and my shoes together in the lounge. If I have to try and locate two matching socks in silence, in the dark, somewhere deep in my drawer at 4:00 am, there is a high likelihood remaining in bed will come out the victor in that hostage negotiation.
Who Are You? (singing who, who, who, who)
The final piece of the puzzle is about self-identity and who I think I am (here’s that metacognition again). To sustain a change, the focus shouldn’t solely be on the behaviour, but on who you want to be and your internal identity.
I am now a person who doesn’t drink alcohol. That’s a massive difference from saying, “No thanks, I can’t drink at the moment.” The latter makes it sound like I’m missing out on something I want to be doing. In reality, I have made a decision, and it is now ‘the new me’.
This makes it real, and neuroscience shows we will fiercely defend our sense of self and identity—for good and for bad. If you see yourself as someone who drinks, you will find all the reasons to justify that decision and explain away any challenges directed at it.
So, I am officially a non-drinker. I have a clear divide between work and home delineated by changing clothes, and I have removed the wine from my house. Because I can’t avoid every trigger (even if I hide in a cupboard to escape the kids), I am focusing on changing my response to them.
And if at any time those little monsters get the better of me and I slip up, I won’t be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. I will simply pull up my big girl pants, accept that I am human, and remember that while to err is human – forgiving myself is always the bloody hard part.
Until then, I’ll be over here holding on to my pants, rewriting my brain, and trying to stay out of that cupboard. See you later in the week for my dear diary update!
[1] Reference: Coined by researchers Janet Polivy and C. Peter Herman, describing the cycle of indulgence, guilt, and greater indulgence.