Sure, giving up alcohol will help you lose weight, but it also makes you desperately dull

You could say I had a good summer. Long, hazy evenings we spent lingering for just one more drink in beer gardens with my sun-kissed pals. Weekend brunches al-fresco, with obligatory Bloody Marys. A trip to India, where I quickly adopted the "gin and tonics on the terrace" tradition.

I know how it sounds. But really I’m not much of a drinker - just a social one. It just so happened I was extremely sociable this summer. But combined with my no holds barred indulgence in food, it started to become a problem. After a period of denial, I realised that I hadn't accidentally shrunk all of my clothes in the drier. But how was I to know that the effect would be so drastic?

A survey by the Royal Society of Public Health out today has revealed our ignorance about the calorie content of alcohol - 80 per cent of those surveyed underestimated the calorie content of a glass of white wine. It helpfully points out that a large glass of white wine has calories equivalent to a chocolate doughnut, and an alcopop is worth a slice of pizza. I admit I wasn’t completely ignorant of this fact; I just blithely chose to ignore it.

I decided drastic action was necessary, so two months ago I embarked on a period of penance: the Domino's email deals were marked as spam, biscuits binned... and booze banned. And it worked. I slowly shed the holiday weight.

There were other benefits, too. Without the option of reaching for a glass of red after a tough day in work I drank much more herbal tea and water. My skin got better. I found that it was easier to grimly lace up my trainers for an early-morning jog without that slightly muggy head you get from having even one drink the night before. I had more hours in the day, slept better at night.

One problem. I have become desperately dull. I find myself opting out of social events - it’s a pain explaining why you’re not drinking, and I’m embarrassed to say it, but nights out are just not as fun.

The conversations aren’t as funny or charming, my dancing definitely isn’t as good as I thought it was, and really I’m happier at home in front of Netflix. I haven’t been on a date since either, filled with terror at the idea of chit-chat or, god forbid, flirting without the aid of a social lubricant.

Part of me assumed I would get all healthy and glowy, then one day lock eyes with a green-juice-quaffing gym god in some raw-food cafe and the rest would be history. But no, my evenings consist of me, in gym gear and clutching my latest blend of herbal tea, slinking past packed pubs filled with glowy girls and boys falling in love over giant frothy tankards of beer. Hmph.

Balancing diet and drinking is tough. The RSPH has called for calorie counts to be made available for drinks, on restaurant menus, beer mats and pumps. How awful. Yes yes, some cocktails can contain hundreds of calories. So does a slab of tiramisu, but I don’t want to be reminded just as I’m scanning the dessert menu in a nice restaurant. Calorie counts suck all the fun out of having fun.

I don’t mean to be too glib - obesity is a major problem in this country. It is important that we’re well-informed, but we don’t need it rammed down our throats, if you will. And, let’s face it, chocolate bars carry prominent calorie counts, but we still, as a nation, seem to be eating plenty of them.

Education about the value of moderation, with not just alcohol but calories in general, would be more appropriate. If you eat a restaurant portion of double-chocolate fudge cake after every meal, this will start to have an impact (trust me, I know).

If you put away four pints or a bottle of wine every other night, you probably won’t be at your peak health wise. But, as an occasional treat, that calorific glass of wine won’t do any harm at all. We should learn more about balanced diet, the importance of whole, fresh natural foods, and how to limit sugar and additives in our daily meals so that when we do go to a nice restaurant, or catch up for a pint with old friends, we can afford a few extra calories.

I’m going to take my own advice on this, before I become any more hermit-like. But instead of reaching for a mid-week cut-price bottle of red at home on a Wednesday night (plus a family pack of Doritos), I might drink one really nice glass of wine with a friend over dinner at the weekend. Who knows, I might even summon up the courage to drink it on a date...