8 Years Sober

Eight years ago I embarked on a journey that has shaped how my life has unfolded. Before I got sober I never thought about my future much. I didn’t consider if what I was doing was good or helped people. I wasn’t worried about my career or achievements. I didn’t think about yesterday or tomorrow. And though I was “living in the moment,” those moments added up and the years passed me by.

Eight years ago I finally woke up and asked myself what am I doing? I realized I was slowly wasting my life away. The irony is I was convinced I was living my best life. I really thought, and portrayed, my life to be something desirable and glamorous, when in reality it was lonely and depressing. I had been drinking and socializing non stop for around 9 years. It wasn’t until I tried for a good 6 months to moderate my drinking and experienced another weekend of blacking out and embarrassing myself, that I finally thought maybe this isn’t how I should be living my life.

The stigma of sobriety was strong with me eight years ago. I was devastated when I quit drinking. I thought my life was over. I thought I was an alcoholic, which to me was one of the worst things in the world you could be. Something people looked down on you for. I thought there was something inherently wrong with me that couldn’t be fixed. I didn’t want to go to AA meetings because then it would all be real. I didn’t resonate with the word sober until about 8 months in because I wasn’t sure I could do it. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it.

Back then I had to wake up and choose not to drink every day. Now, being sober is just part of who I am. I never think about drinking or wish I could drink. I do chalk this up to the mindset shift that This Naked Mind talks so much about. I knew I was experiencing this, but didn’t have a name for it until that book came around. I truly believe if you haven’t shifted your mindset around what you believe alcohol can do for you or how it can make you feel, you won’t sustain sobriety, or any type of relational freedom from alcohol.

When I got sober there was only one way - 12 step fellowships and since then, the recovery community has grown exponentially. There are countless resources and pathways to help people quit drinking, recover, or take a break. It’s amazing to see how different things are from 8 years ago. I believe if some of these resources were available before 2013 I might have gotten sober sooner.

Over the last year I haven’t thought much about my sobriety because it just is. But also because as you all know - I’ve had a lot of other things on my plate, grief, learning how to be a mom, postpartum depression, learning how to live in my body again, etc. 

One of my grief support group leaders said that you should add on “while grieving” to everything you do when you feel like you aren’t doing enough. I am taking care of a baby, while grieving. I am learning how to live in my body again, while grieving. I am adapting to a new work role, while grieving. And today I thought I should also add “and without substances.” Not everyone can say that and that is something to be proud of.

Today I want to give myself credit for being drug and alcohol free for the last 8 years, and especially over this last year. Living through several traumas, alert and aware, and feeling every moment isn’t easy, but it’s what I’ve chosen. 

Today I am thinking of my dad and his decision many years ago to quit alcohol too. I so badly wish he was here to send me a text and say, “happy 8 years boo! I’m so proud of you!” We should be having an O’Doul’s together and eating seafood, but instead I’m here feeling the void of his absence and missing him terribly.

Today I will look at my son and find comfort in the fact that he will never see me drunk and will never feel unsafe in my presence because of alcohol or drug use.

But I’m also going to say that it’s ok for me to feel sad today, even on an important day. You can feel what you feel and celebrate too. Be proud and feel grief. Be grateful and want more for your life.

Sobriety doesn’t cure sadness or grief, but I know I am free because of my sobriety.