After a long, stressful workweek, Friday night had always been my signal to unwind—which, in reality, meant drinking. It was automatic. Nip to the shop and get a bottle or two. Then, negotiating with myself. Two bottles? Is that enough? I don’t want to venture out once the wine comfort blanket is on. Okay, let’s get three.
There is something magical about the first bottle. I deserve this. One bottle is opened. The others are chilling. The first sip, the tingle, the slow, numbing fade into the weekend. It takes hold. The first glass is down. And, relax. Second glass, little larger. And so it goes. That ritual was deeply ingrained in me. When I stopped drinking, Friday nights stretched out in front of me like an endless, unbearable void. They felt like a lifetime.
Getting sober meant every single week, the goal was the same: Just make it to Saturday morning.
The Friday Night Trigger
During the workweek, I was always busy. Mornings were structured. Afternoons were filled with deadlines. Even in the evenings, I had enough mental exhaustion to keep me occupied. And a cockerpoo. If work doesn’t tire you out, a Cockerpoo certainly will. But Friday? Friday was different. An emotional check out coming right up!
Stopping this cycle is not just about missing alcohol. It is also about about missing the buffer. This buffer was the thing that separated the stress of the week from the supposed freedom of the weekend. Without alcohol, that transition didn’t exist. I was left with all the stress, all the exhaustion, and nowhere to put it.
And that’s when the cravings hit the hardest. Every Friday night felt like a battle for my soul.
Being Sober Felt Like A Whole Lifetime in One Night
Every Friday at 5 PM, the battle started.
The thoughts would creep in. You’ve had a tough week. Just one drink. Just one bottle. You can reset tomorrow.
Time slowed down. The hours between 6 PM and midnight felt endless. Every minute was a conscious effort not to give in. Every moment was spent battling an urge that felt like an inevitability.
Some nights, it was pure willpower. Some nights, I threw myself into anything that was a distraction. And some nights? I sat there, just white-knuckling through, waiting for it to pass. Hating myself for doing this. Hating myself for thinking bad thoughts about doing this. A constant battle. Mind. Body. Soul. The thing about cravings, they pass eventually. They always do.
The hardest part was that it never felt easier. Each Friday was its own war. But every Saturday morning that I woke up without a hangover or shame. That was the victory. The war cry to do it again next time.
How I Got Through It
The only way to survive a Friday night without drinking was to actively change the routine. I couldn’t sit in the same space, doing the same things, and expect different results. So, I found ways to occupy myself—sometimes successfully, sometimes not.
- Being with my partner – Even just sitting in the same room with someone else helped. It grounded me. Made me feel less alone in the fight.
- Taking a course – Learning something new forced my brain into a different space. Even if I wasn’t fully engaged, it stopped the downward spiral.
- Watching and re-watching TV shows – Some shows became my escape. The familiarity of certain series created an almost out-of-body experience, like I was stepping outside of myself for a while.
- Scrolling through other people’s sobriety stories – Seeing that I wasn’t the only one struggling made a difference. I wasn’t alone in this. And that mattered. Sober stories on social media were incredibly helpful.
Some nights, these things helped. Some nights, they didn’t. But no matter what, I kept fighting for Saturday morning.
Rewiring My Brain
It took time—and it felt like so much time—to retrain my brain not to expect alcohol every Friday night.
At first, it felt like deprivation. Like I was punishing myself by denying something I had earned after a long, exhausting week. But eventually, I started to see it differently.
I started to realise that I wasn’t depriving myself—I was freeing myself. [The 3 am wake ups still happen – that’s either the menopause flashes or the mutt]
If You’re Struggling With Fridays
If you’re in that phase right now—every Friday night feels impossible. A gut punch. It feels like a lifetime just trying to get to Saturday. I want you to know this: It gets better.
Not right away. Not overnight. But eventually. You will wake up on a Friday. You will arrive at the evening trigger time. You will feel what you feel. You will recognise you’re changing. You will realise that the cravings don’t scream as loudly as they used to. That the fight isn’t as brutal. That the night doesn’t feel so long. The mirror is less daunting.
And until then? Just take it one night at a time. One minute at a time if you have to. Because Saturday morning is always waiting for you.
Have Friday nights been a struggle for you too? What got you through them? Drop a comment—I’d love to hear how others have navigated this battle.
Not For Me, Thanks 
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