For reasons still largely unknown, Jesse and I opted to stop drinking alcohol for the month of February. I think we were inspired by all the people doing FebFast.

Our “we can drink again” date is set for March 1st, which is in a few days, and yet – I’m not sure I’m going to.

Since I stopped, I’ve had no depressive episodes. Anxiety is still hanging around and making regular appearances, but it feels like my depression is retreating into the background.

It’s not like I didn’t already know that alcohol exacerbated depression, but I didn’t realize how strong the connection was.

The shitty part of all this is that alcohol remains, for the most part, the only truly socially acceptable drug. The other shitty part is that I fucking love the taste of wine. And margaritas. And sangria.

And vodka. And cider. And beer.