I always feel wary of writing anything that makes me sound like I think I’m some kind of voice of wisdom about anyone else’s life. The more I learn in my psychotherapy training and work placement the more I realise how truly individual we all are, about everything. But I’ve read a few blogs on Soberistas lately from people new to the site, or from people coming back having fallen back into drinking over the pandemic, and I just wanted to share some random thoughts from my own experience and the research I’m currently buried in for my half-written book 2 about alcohol and sobriety.
1. First of all, if you’re newly sober, or newly sober again, I just want to wrap my arms around you and give you the biggest, kindest hug. We all do, those of us who are doing this sober thing. Because we all remember that Day 1 feeling of utter wretchedness. We were all there whether we are now on Day 10, Day 152 or Day 2057. You are not alone and you are not bad or wrong or defective in any way. You are a hurting human who has become addicted to an addictive substance. That’s all. And it will get better.
2. The decision to drink is usually made long before the drink is lifted to your mouth. I’m trying to lose weight at the moment but I also somehow find myself sticking a packet of biscuits or chocolate buttons in my online Tesco shop (because I deserve it, because it’s raining, because summer is over, because I’m tired, because, because) every damn week. And then I wonder why each week the scales are telling me I’m a little bit heavier. Clear your home of alcohol if you possibly can. Say a big fat no thanks to any and every social invitation if you think there’s a chance you can’t get through it sober. It’s not forever, it’s just for now. And I will try and do the same with sugar, ok? Again.
3. Which brings me on to this: you get forever goes at this. There is no magic way of doing it. Some people spend decades trying unsuccessfully to moderate and then are one and (hopefully) done when they finally realise, with every ounce of their conscious and subconscious mind, that they just can’t (me). Some people go through this learning process with periods of sobriety and periods of drinking. Some are helped along the process by quit lit, some by working the Steps in AA, some with medication. But it’s the same process for everyone – we need to learn, truly learn by personal experience, that alcohol has nothing to offer us any more. Our boozy ship has sailed. As a wise Soberista once blogged, what you’re missing has already gone and there’s no getting it back from alcohol. Not any more.
4. Connection helps. More than anything. As my sober life progresses I realise more and more that I have replaced my use of substances to ease the trials and tribulations of life with real, genuine human connections with so many incredible people. And for me it started here. It started with a little blog in which I was honest for the first time in my life about my relationship with alcohol. And the more I’ve been honest about (my failing marriage, my bisexuality, my career dreams) the more connection I’ve found with people who feel like home. It comes down to this I think: when we tell the truth about ourselves, out loud, our people can find us. It’s scary but worth it and it gets easier and easier the more you do it.
5. You are so much stronger than you know. SO much. Alcohol does many horrid and toxic things to us both physically and mentally but it cannot touch the core of you, where all your strength and goodness lives. Whether you are spiritual or not you will find that centre if you can stay still for long enough in the mad whirl of modern life. I find shutting off a lot of external noise helps – I so rarely go on social media now, I only look at the news when I’m feeling strong. I focus on the day ahead of me and the next right thing I can do to put some good out into the world. And the longer I stay away from alcohol, just quietly trying to live a decent life, the more I can sense that calm strength within me that nothing external can harm. Sometimes my emotions rage and storm around it and I cry or rant to a friend or get horribly snappy with my kids (was worried I was giving a VERY false impression of me as some kind of serene yogi there!). But at my centre I’m strong, because I’m sober and so I can live with dignity and self-compassion always.
6. Boundaries are important. I suspect I am actually making them a bit too important at the moment because I’ve now been separated for two years, will soon be divorced and still cannot even vaguely contemplate the idea of dating. It’s ironic really, in sobriety I’ve finally owned being bisexual so I could theoretically date pretty much everybody but I have an absolute horror of the idea of dating anybody. Anyway, I digress. It seems to me that a lot of times when people fall back into drinking it’s due to a relationship of some kind. Either because their partner drinks or because the relationship itself (which could be with a family member or friend too, not just a partner) is so emotionally triggering. Boundaries are something I had absolutely no notion of as a drinker. I still tend towards the people pleasing side of the scale and find it hard to say no, particularly if someone is asking for help. But I can set boundaries around how I interact with people now to protect myself. That shining centre we were just talking about? It’s up to you to protect it. One of my favourite quotes is this: Open, gentle heart. Big fucking fence (Danielle LaPorte). That’s how I try to live (some days more successfully than others).
Sending lots of love to you all wherever you are in this journey. Try to show yourself some kindness today and keep going, don’t ever give up. Sobriety is worth it and you are worth it.
So just keep going.
Julia x
