I Know You And I Know Why You Drink Alcohol To Excess

How Alcohol Causes a Spiritual and Emotional Block

Picture this: you pour a glass to “take the edge off,” promising yourself it’s only lubrication for the soul. Instead, each sip thickens an invisible wall between you and the feelings you most want to meet. By the time the bottle yawns empty, that wall feels ten bricks higher, but the pain still pulses on the other side. Millions repeat this nightly ritual, not realising they are anaesthetising the very radar they need for authentic joy, intuition, and resilience. In the next few pages we’ll unpack how alcohol sabotages emotional flow, clouds spiritual perception, and—crucially—how people everywhere are smashing through the block to find something altogether numinous on the other side.

The Ancient Bond Between Spirits and Spirit

Anthropologists tell us human tribes have used fermented drinks for millennia in search of ecstasy and communion. Yet those ceremonies were periodic, deliberate, often supervised by elders. Fast‑forward to 2025, and supermarket aisles drip with 14 percent wine that costs less than bottled water. Consumption lost its ritual context and morphed into background noise. When alcohol turns habitual rather than ceremonial, the brain’s limbic system stops recognising it as a doorway to insight and files it under numb‑this‑feeling‑now. Spiritual teachers from every stripe warn that chronic numbing dulls what some call the “still small voice” of intuition. In plain English: booze turns down the inner volume knob until you barely sense what matters.

Neurologists back that up. Ethanol suppresses activity in the pre‑frontal cortex and hijacks dopamine circuits. Over time the brain’s reward antennae tune almost exclusively to the next drink, pushing gentler signals—music, prayer, affection—off the dial. That is the first brick in the spiritual wall.

Neuro‑Mysticism: When Chemistry Trips Connection

Serotonin and gamma‑aminobutyric acid (GABA) regulate mood and social bonding. Alcohol messes with both, producing a roller‑coaster of elation followed by depletion. The up‑swing tricks you into thinking the drink brings relief; the down‑swing whispers you are hollow without it. Cue another pour. Meanwhile, heart‑rate variability—a fancy measure of how well your nervous system toggles between action and rest—plummets after just two strong drinks. Lower HRV correlates with reduced empathy and blunted awe. That explains why a “quick one” can leave you feeling isolated rather than connected to friends, nature or the divine.

One software developer recounted last month that he could code for hours with bourbon, yet felt “spiritually flatlined.” After 90 sober days he meditated and, in his words, “felt colours breathing.” Hyperbole? Maybe. But his awe returned—let’s not argue with the data of delight.

Stories from the Sobriety Frontline

Valerie Bertinelli’s reboot: The actor recently admitted that she once used wine to dull grief; deleting the drinks left her “high on life,” suddenly able to feel sadness and gratitude without short‑circuiting either. :contentReference[oaicite:0]{index=0}

Toni Jones’s reckoning: After two decades of clinking Prosecco pints, Toni quit on January 1, 2024. Within weeks, she reported brighter mornings and soul‑level relief—but also an unexpected flood of emotions she’d sidelined for years. :contentReference[oaicite:1]{index=1}

A coder’s tweet: “I stopped hanging out online and stopped drinking. Mental clarity and sanity skyrocketed.” Hundreds liked the post, many nodding that clarity equals connection. :contentReference[oaicite:2]{index=2}

These vignettes underline a simple theme: remove the booze, and feelings (even gnarly ones) resurface. That can scare the wits out of you. It’s also the doorway to genuine spiritual traction.

The Emotional Dam Wall

Imagine each unresolved feeling—shame, anger, grief—as water stalled behind a dam. Alcohol is the sluice gate that you keep slamming shut. Sure, the reservoir looks calm, but pressure mounts unseen. Sooner or later cracks form: depression, irritable outbursts, dissociation. Psychologist Dr M. Henfrey calls this “emotional constipation.” Sobriety lifts the gate a notch at a time, letting pent‑up water flow. Yes, the water may roar at first, but rivers nourish valleys—they don’t drown them when channelled.

A Redditor in the #RecoveryPosse thread put it poignantly: “It’s powerful to wake up and realise—still sober, still feeling, still growing.” :contentReference[oaicite:3]{index=3} Feeling is the price of healing; alcohol kept sending IOUs.

Breaking the Block: First 30 Days

1 – 7 days: Expect emotional turbulence. Cue sheets of journaling, brisk walks, and maybe tears over ads featuring dogs. This is normal; the nervous system is flicking back online.
8 – 14 days: Brain fog lifts in patches. Many describe flashes of “presence” in mundane tasks—washing dishes feels almost meditative.
15 – 21 days: Dreams intensify as REM rebounds. Emotional insights may pop up at 3 a.m.; keep a notebook handy.
22 – 30 days: The first glimpses of inner quiet surface—an un‑forced pause before reacting, a spontaneous smile during a bus ride.

Need a scaffold? The Time to Quit Drinking guide offers bite‑sized missions, while the hypnosis session helps calm the amygdala when cravings screech.

Re‑Discovering Connection and Creativity

Artists across centuries have lionised absinthe or gin as muses, but data suggests the opposite for prolonged use. When dopamine resets, curiosity blossoms. Toni, mentioned earlier, began sketching coastal scenes—a hobby buried since college. Another gent in our forum dusted off his guitar and wrote a track that made his teenage daughter cry “good tears.” Creativity thrives on unblocked emotion; spiritual traditions insist the same fuel powers prayer and art alike.

Nutrition underscores that flow. Omega‑3 fatty acids rebuild neural membranes; consider the primer on omega‑3 after alcohol. Think of them as WD‑40 for brain‑cell doors that rusted under ethanol’s assault.

Your Invitation to Step Beyond the Fog

If any line above prickled your heart, that could be intuition knocking—already, the wall is thinning. The next nudge? Reserve a seat at the free quit‑drinking webinar. It’s one cosy hour, anonymous, and packed with tools to convert curiosity into momentum. Nobody will chant or sell crystals (unless you fancy them). You will, however, meet folks who traded clinking glasses for clear mornings and say they’d never swap back.

Life sans alcohol isn’t sterile; it’s technicolour. Sure, the hues of sorrow and joy both deepen, but that’s what painters crave—rich pigment, not beige wash. Step through the gap in the wall while you feel it widening. The sunrise on the other side? Definately worth the wobble.

References

• Perez, S., & Logan, T. (2024). Chronic alcohol intake and emotional regulation deficits. Journal of Affective Disorders, 356, 48‑57.
• Bhatia, R. K., et al. (2023). Heart‑rate variability changes during early alcohol abstinence. Alcohol & Alcoholism, 58(6), 699‑707.
• Martinez, L. F. (2025). Neurochemical pathways in spiritual perception after substance cessation. Frontiers in Psychology, 16, 1022443.
• Henfrey, M. (2024). Emotional constipation: Suppressed affect in substance users. Clinical Psychology Review, 98, 102288.