The party I was going to was a surprise birthday party. When I got there, I ordered a soda and lime and told as many people as I could that I wasn’t drinking. I wanted a safety blanket; if they knew I wasn’t allowed to do it, I’d be less likely to cheat. I felt monitored. Within 20 minutes I also felt extremely hydrated. We surprised the birthday girl, I had a few conversations with new people – no more significant or meaningful than if I had been drinking, but at least I’d remember their faces if I ever met them again – then, along with everyone else, I started dancing. I started dancing and I didn’t stop, for probably the next seven hours. I danced more than I’ve danced in about three years. I danced until four in the morning. Other than the fact I am fit enough to dance for such a long time, what surprised me about going out sober were the things I noticed. I felt hyper-astute; I saw couples arguing, single people snogging and one friend circling the room ‘husband shopping’, which involves engaging every man in conversation only to duck out when they announce they’re taken. I was also surprised to find myself on the receiving end of a lot of interesting information; people just kept telling me things they shouldn’t. I was like a confession booth. ‘Maybe this always happens but it just goes in one ear and out the other’ I thought, remembering all the secrets I’ve leaked to other people, four beers in. At times in the night, I bordered on feeling nosy, like I was seeing and hearing things I wasn’t supposed to – the soda-drinking fly on the wall. The moment I’d worried about never came. I looked at my friends having fun and felt grateful to know them. I didn’t judge anyone (and not because I wouldn’t have a leg to stand on), not even when one friend got so drunk that she passed out on the bar, or when a guy friend went home with someone he met in the corner shop, or when a new friend gave her number to a man on the street who was selling laughing gas, in exchange for a balloon. I realised that, if I wasn’t judging them – as the soberest person in the room – no one was, and that if they felt crap tomorrow it would only be because they were judging themselves. So much of the negativity we feel around our drunk behaviour is self-imposed and partially to do with the way that, chemically, alcohol drains you. In particular, the dehydration it causes has been linked to heightened feelings of anxiety; it also depletes serotonin levels, responsible for mood. I’ve experienced this first hand a thousand times or more; the vague feeling that you let yourself down, even when you can’t put your finger on why. One friend calls it getting the “RAGS” – regret, anxiety, guilt and shame – while another calls it a “prangover”; maybe the best one I’ve heard, though, is “Regret-a-Manger” – shorthand for an indulgent breakfast of self-doubt. It was relieving to wake up on Saturday morning regret-free. I hadn’t snogged anyone inappropriate (I didn't even flirt with anyone tbh, but that’s another column), I hadn’t spunked £45 on cocktails and I didn’t have any gaps in my memory. And yet, I didn’t feel clear-headed either. I actually woke up with a banging headache and a brutal cold. I was furious. "I could have just got fucked off my face and lain in bed all day incapacitated", I complained to a friend as I rammed paracetamol into my mouth for all the wrong reasons. Any pride at remaining sober was eclipsed by the sensation that my sinuses were exploding. Luckily, two minutes later I checked my phone. A friend had texted me: “You’re so much more fun when you’re sober!!!” it read. They had actually used three exclamation marks. This was definitely food for thought – I contemplated whether the reason I drank on nights out was to ease the sort of social anxiety I’d experienced on Friday, namely, that I wouldn’t be much fun without booze. From just one night out without drinking though, I already had more confidence in my ability to hold a conversation, not to mention my coordination on the dance floor. How much better about myself would I feel after three nights out sober? I wondered. Perhaps by the end of "Dry Jan" I’ll know the answer. Next week: Does not drinking unleash your inner supermodel, world leader and shaman? An analysis of how sobriety affects your body, behaviour and outlook.