Exploring My Own Sober Curiousity
I am tackling 2022 in a style to which I have never truly committed - full sobriety. I have dabbled in the past with Dry July or Sober-tober, yet have not found a way of living sober that has worked for me. I have been “sober curious” but it has always been a passive curiosity rather than an active one. Full transparency: I do not consider myself to be an alcoholic or an addict. But I do have an addictive personality. When I find something that helps me feel better, good, different, *insert adjective here,* I chase it. I have spent the last several years chasing highs in different forms - exercise, calorie counting, alcohol, drugs, yoga. Going into 2022, I want to chase something new - the feelings I’ve numbed.
There have been a few notable times in my life where my relationship with alcohol has felt all-consuming and toxic. Immediately after college, I was living on my own for the first time, working in a job I loved, and trying to navigate a long distance relationship that was further complicated by the military. During the several months when letters were the only communication I received from my partner (spoiler alert: he is now my husband and father of my child), I filled the empty spot in my bed with a double bottle of Yellowtail Cab Sav. I would go to work, go to the gym, and then (on weekdays) come home to drink my dinner.
In 2018, the combination of intense work stress, preparing for a cross country move, and getting ready for my wedding led to a relapse in my eating disorder. To numb the often debilitating emotions I was trying to supress, I drank. Looking back, this was without a doubt a cry for help. I was not in therapy or on antidepressants at this point and I felt like I was spinning out of control. One of the only things, aside from exercise, that made me feel like I could breathe was alcohol.
Here are the things I like about intoxication:
It brought me and my partner together (shoutout to Kilroy’s, $2 Tuesdays, and tequila shots)
It is an easy way to be social - nothing bonds two girls like a drunken bar bathroom experience
It tastes good (if the drink was made right)
It frees me of my insecurities, leading to a euphoric self-confidence that is only matched by the confidence of a mediocre cis white man
It feels like a normal thing to do and helps you immediately fit in with a new group
Trying new drinks is fun and exciting - thankfully my favorite college bar still has 100+ shots to choose from
Here are things I don’t like about intoxication:
The feeling of losing control (which is an ironic thing to say as a control freak)
Waking up with regret - Did I say the wrong thing? Did I embarrass myself?
Hangovers that remind me I am on the wrong side of 25 to be drinking like that
The cost (mentally and financially) of waking up to Amex alerts reminding me exactly how many drinks I had at the bar last night
The shame spiral as I read all of the texts I don’t remember sending
As I said before - I have never labeled myself as an alcoholic. Even so, I constantly question what my motivation is for drinking. I set rules for myself, and then beat myself up when I inevitably break or bend them. If I am alone, I am not allowed to drink. If I feel sad, I am not allowed to drink. If I am mad at someone, I am not allowed to drink. I have attempted to micromanage my drinking to the point that I am now asking myself: why do I even drink? I have tried to practice mindful drinking in order to better understand my motivations. Was I pouring a glass of wine with dinner because I genuinely enjoy the taste and it paired well with my food? Or was I pouring a glass of wine because I had a rough day and needed something to take the edge off? I have never been able to find the middle ground - it is all or nothing. So here I am, trying the nothing.
For me, intoxication feels too good. I find myself in the Land of the Lotus-Eaters, unable to escape or even realize that as I sit blissfully unaware, the world is crashing down around me. For me, intoxication is a lie. I have spent the last year dismantling lies. “Postpartum depression is your fault,” “Your child hates you,” “The world would be better off without you,” “You aren’t cut out for motherhood,” “You deserve this pain.” How can I fully commit to this practice if I continue to allow myself to live moments of pure dishonesty? One thing my postpartum journey has given me is the intense desire to live my life with intent and the ability to make deliberate choices, rather than feeling like choices are being made for me. The work I have done on myself as a human, and more specifically as a mother, has given me the strength to ask myself, “What could my life be if I stopped hiding from the scary feelings and let myself feel them and move through them, rather than around them?”
Sobriety, at this point in my life, will allow me to be more embodied and present as a mom, a partner, and a friend. It will give me the power to actively participate in my life, rather than sitting back and watching it go by. Looking forward to this year, I plan to begin working with clients throughout their pregnancy and postpartum journeys. It is important that I am able to show up fully and honestly for them. If I am too scared to feel what I avoid through alcohol or drugs, how can I expect clients to trust me with their emotions? Sobriety will (hopefully) allow me to exist as the most real version of myself who is capable of serving others and acting as a mirror to reflect back their hardest thoughts or emotions.
Taking on sobriety is not a last resort. It is not because I have hit rock-bottom. It is a decision I feel empowered to make because I know that a better way of living is possible for me. So, I am raising a glass bottle of the spiciest bubbly out there - Topo Chico - to this upcoming year. May it be a year of honest, intentional living. Cheers to Twenty Twenty-Two seltzers, please.
Resources
Sober Curious by Ruby Warrington
Tempest (Online alcohol treatment)
Edited by Rae Fagin