Over the past couple months, anxiety seems to have ratcheted up as a recurring theme in my life.

It's come up repeatedly with my clients in coaching sessions, in conversations with friends and family, and I've even found myself reflecting on my personal anxiousness as well. It made me realize that while anxiety is something almost all of us experience, very few of us were ever taught what it actually is. We know what it feels like, but we don't always understand what's happening beneath the surface. And when we don't understand something, we often reach for whatever seems to provide relief.

For many people, that relief becomes alcohol.

The problem is that while alcohol often feels like it's helping anxiety in the moment, that's not the whole story. So let's talk all things anxiety and alcohol, shall we?

Anxiety Isn't the Enemy

One of the most helpful distinctions I learned years ago when studying physiological psychology was the difference between fear and anxiety.

Fear is your brain responding to something that's happening right now. If a car swerves into your lane or you unexpectedly encounter a bear while hiking, fear is exactly what you want. It's immediate, protective, and beautifully designed to keep you alive.

Anxiety is different.

Anxiety isn't responding to what's happening in the present; it's responding to what might happen. It's your brain trying to anticipate the future, imagine possible threats, and prepare you for every "what if" it can think of.

What if I embarrass myself? What if they don't like me? What if I fail? What if something goes wrong?

Once I understood that distinction, I stopped seeing anxiety as the problem.

More often than not, anxiety isn't evidence that something is wrong. It's merely evidence that your brain is working very hard to make sure nothing goes wrong.

That doesn't mean anxiety feels pleasant, of course. But it does mean we don't necessarily need to fear the feeling itself. The trouble begins when we become so uncomfortable with anxiety that we'll do almost anything to make it disappear.

And that's often where alcohol enters the picture.

The Catch-22 That Most People Never Hear About

If you've ever poured yourself a drink because you wanted to "take the edge off," you weren't imagining the relief you felt.

Alcohol really does change the chemistry of the brain.

It temporarily enhances the effects of GABA, one of our brain's primary calming neurotransmitters, while also producing a surge of dopamine, the chemical involved in reward, motivation, and reinforcement. So immediately after you take that first drink, for a little while, your body relaxes, your thoughts slow down, and everything feels just a little easier.

The problem is that the brain is constantly trying to maintain homeostasis, a.k.a. balance.

Whenever something artificially pushes our brain chemistry in one direction, the brain begins making adjustments to pull us back toward center. As dopamine rises, another chemical called dynorphin is released to bring it back down. The kicker is that it doesn't simply return dopamine to baseline—it pushes it below baseline, leaving us feeling flatter, less motivated, and wanting another drink to recreate the feeling we just lost. (Hence, the subtle, or not so subtle craving, for that second glass of wine.

Meanwhile, at the same time as alcohol leaves the body, stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline begin to rise, making your sleep become lighter and less restorative and your nervous system becomes more reactive.

In other words, what felt calming at 8:00 pm in the evening can quietly contribute to feeling more anxious at 3:00 am in the morning.

Or the next day...what we've come to call hangxiety isn't simply in your imagination. It's the physiological response happening in both your brain and your body.

Looking back now, I can see that what I thought was alcohol relieving my anxiety was often alcohol relieving the anxiety that alcohol itself had been helping create.

That's the catch-22.

The very thing we believe is helping us cope is often contributing to the cycle we're trying so desperately to escape.

The Part I Think Matters Most

As fascinating as the neuroscience is, I don't actually think that's the most important part of this conversation. The part that fascinates me even more is what alcohol may be preventing us from learning.

One of the brain's remarkable abilities is something psychologists call fear extinction. Every time we experience something we were afraid of and discover that we're okay, our brain quietly updates its prediction. It begins turning the alarm down because it has gathered new evidence that we can handle the situation.

That's how confidence develops. Not because life suddenly becomes easier, but because we begin trusting ourselves more.

But if every stressful dinner party, difficult conversation, networking event, or social gathering includes alcohol, our brains never really get the opportunity to learn that we were capable all along.

Instead, they learn something else.

"I survived because I had a drink."

Without realizing it, we've outsourced our sense of safety.

Teaching Your Nervous System Something New

The good news is that the brain is neuroplastic which means that it's incredibly adaptable, and resilient.

Neuroplasticity doesn't stop just because we've spent years responding to stress in one particular way. The brain is capable of building new pathways throughout our lives, but it learns through repetition, not through one dramatic breakthrough.

That's why I don't believe there's one magic replacement for alcohol. Instead, I think healing comes from asking a different question.

Rather than asking,"What should I drink instead?" perhaps we begin asking,"What does my nervous system actually need right now?"

And those answers will vary depending on circumstance. Sometimes the answer is movement. Other times it's food because we've gone too long without eating. Sometimes we need more sleep. Maybe a few slow breaths will do the trick. In other instances the answer is it's getting outside, talking with someone we trust, journaling, practicing yoga, sitting quietly, or working with a therapist or coach who can help us process the things we've been carrying around.

Different moments require different tools.

What matters is that we're slowly teaching our brain that relief doesn't have to come from alcohol.

Little by little, those repeated experiences begin building three things alcohol never could:

1. Capacity

2. Resilience

3. Self-trust

We stop believing that we need alcohol to feel okay because we've accumulated enough evidence that we know we already are.

A Different Kind of Freedom

One of the greatest surprises of changing my own relationship with alcohol wasn't that anxiety disappeared.

It most assuredly didn't.

Life is still uncertain. Difficult things still happen. I still experience stress, grief, disappointment, and moments where my mind wants to race ahead into the future.

What changed wasn't the absence of anxiety; it was my confidence that I could move through it.

To me, that's what healing looks like.

Healing isn't eliminating uncomfortable emotions or avoiding circumstances that we assumed would be uncomfortable. Healing is building a nervous system that no longer needs alcohol to feel safe.

And I truly believe this is one of the greatest gifts of taking a break from drinking. Not simply that we drink less. but that we slowly rediscover that we are far more capable than anxiety had led us to believe.

Ready to Explore Your Own Relationship with Alcohol?

If you're participating in Dry July—or simply becoming more curious about the role alcohol is playing in your life—my 30-Day Reset was designed for exactly this kind of exploration. Together we look at the neuroscience behind alcohol, anxiety, cravings, and nervous system regulation while practicing small, sustainable habits that help you build something far more lasting than temporary relief.

Because the goal isn't simply to stop drinking.

It's to build a life—and a nervous system—that no longer needs alcohol to feel safe.