I remember that day very clearly. I was lying on a friend’s couch, remembering very little of the night before.

I remember I was asked to leave a pub since I could barely stand and I tripped over something. I remember my friends took me all the way back home.

I remember I woke up feeling gross, with the knowledge I was going to catch a flight the same afternoon. Something I was totally not looking forward to.

I peeled myself off the sofa and I looked around. I started remembering snippets of drunken texts and my heart just sank.

I wanted to snap my fingers and disappear, but that was just not possible. I had a very long journey between there and the airport. It actually felt longer than it probably was.

I realised that alcohol was never my friend.

It has always been my crutch, and every time I leaned on it, I’d go back to the same place.

Blacked out, slightly shook, incredibly sad. I remember I got back to get my two suitcases, pretty much everything I had left to my own name, and I got my iPad. In the space of five minutes, I bought three books, one of them called The Unexpected Joy of being Sober.

I tried sobriety quite a few times, yet I never fully thought I could face the world without having the option of a drink. Or two. Or ten.

I had a nine-month break. Two months. A week. Yet, I would always go back to my crutch.

I remember the book downloading whilst I was heading down the lift. I remember me standing with my suitcase in my hand, saying out loud to the four walls: “this was the last time. This is the end.”

It’s been one year and three months. This was not a break. A let’s see if I can learn to drink in moderation. There is no it’s all about balance this time.

Alcohol can be best described as a pair of dirty goggles you did not realise you had on.

I started to see the world in a much different way. I stopped running away from the mistakes, the excuses and the obstacles life threw at me.

Every time I would face a new challenge (the first night at the pub without a drink, the first Christmas or wedding), I was reminded of how strong a mind can be if only asked to be.

That translated into my personal life, my work, and my overall mental wellbeing.

In 15 months I changed city, I moved into a new home, I published my first book, I let go of old projects and planned on rebirthing my whole company under a new name.

All because one day I decided it was enough. I decided I wanted to prove myself I did not need a crutch to celebrate every new win or forget the failures. My health changed, my energy levels improved, and I became an overall kinder person – to myself and others.

I learned how to manage my anxiety, and stop burning out every other day.

You can also learn how to transform your sensitivity into your superpower.

Despite being one of the lowest moments of my life, that morning, on that couch, I felt like I knew I needed to change for the best, and I am so, so glad I did.

Could the mind-body connection enhance your productivity? Find more about it here.