If You're Sober & Struggling Today - I Get It.

I woke up agitated, which isn’t that unusual. I’m a “sober alcoholic” which basically means I need to do like 5 things every morning before I can appear normal and even then I rarely feel normal. 

But I’ve had family in town for two weeks, which means I’ve been out of my routine of meetings and gym and writing. This is my holy trinity. If I don’t do those three things pretty much every day, I feel off. And if days and days go by without doing them—well—it’s not a surprise that I hit the wall I’m currently trying to write my way through.

Add to it that I’ve been at beach clubs and the Hollywood Bowl and work parties where I was literally the only one not drinking and smoking weed, (my truest true love), and of course a drink sounds pretty fucking good right now. In fact, a margarita sounds amazing. Or a Corona. So amazing that in 4.7 years of being sober, this is the first time the obsession to drink has really consumed me in the way it’s consuming me today.

Like I said, I woke up agitated. It’s July, which in the past was when my partying, promiscuity and bad girl antics really peaked. I was drunk year round but in July I drank. And I fucked everything that moved, usually in a state of cocaine drunkenness. I was loud and unpredictable and obnoxious—oh God it makes me cringe to think of how obnoxious I must have been. 

Inevitably I’ll be out and see "that girl", my former self, with her friends and I get second-hand embarrassment for her but really it’s just delayed shame at witnessing my behavior from a different perspective, years later. She’s not too sloppy because she’s high on blow but she’s talking loudly about herself or something provocative that she knows will catch the ears of the nearby patrons of whatever bar she’s made her second home. Inevitably her bait snares someone and he rolls up to the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he’ll ask. I roll my eyes. She’s got him right where she wants him, so she thinks—but really, she’ll probably end up sleeping with him and regretting it, like I did with so many men, so many times because I felt like I owed them something or because I was telling myself some lie about being empowered or because it was easier than rejecting them because I hate hurting anyone’s feelings.

I digress. Where was I? Oh right. Agitated.

Not only is it July it’s the Fourth of July, a big fucking party and a holiday that really gets the booze companies and the advertisers excited. It’s America’s birthday and America wants to get drunk. I want to hide under my bed and wait until the whole fucking day blows over but that’s not really an option. I didn’t get sober to hide from life. I got sober to experience more of it and hopefully remember some of it too. 

But I underestimate the psychic energy it takes to resist drinking in a country like America where drinking is our national pastime and literally BILLIONS of dollars go into making it look amazing. Billions of dollars and teams of psychologists and test groups and photoshopped images of sun-kissed models and lies--I mean honestly it’s a miracle anyone stays sober. We really don’t stand a chance. There are forces outside of me, everywhere I go, all the time, working on that part of my brain that I’m not even aware of; telling me drinking is awesome and fun and makes you likeable and gorgeous. It’s working on my subconscious, with billboards and buses and in magazines. It’s ever-present and it’s socially acceptable, in fact, if you don’t drink you’re a fucking weirdo. 

Add to that fact, I’m Irish, French and Italian. My genes don’t need much convincing that drinking is not only a great idea—it’s the only idea. I grew up Irish Catholic. Drinking is our religion. 

All of these things are why I need meetings and a 12-step program as much as I fucking resent that I do sometimes (like today in this moment). But all the dumb slogans and the fellowship and the literature are sobriety’s advertising campaign. It’s called a program because it’s programming me to think differently, which, looking back at the state of my life before I got sober, isn’t such a horrible thing. And I’m not some kool-aid drinking member of recovery, I raged against this shit for over a decade, but it is the ONLY thing that has helped me maintain long-term sobriety and I’m convinced it’s the great marketing campaign they have.

Again, I digress. I’m agitated because I’m pissed off I can’t have two beers like a normal person at a BBQ. But the truth is—I don’t want to drink two beers. Two beers sounds like Hell to me. I want oblivion. I want blackout. I want a moment’s peace from my head; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. I never drank to fit in or feel like I belonged. I drank to shut my fucking mind up and it worked for a long time. Until it didn’t.

I woke up agitated and I knew why and knew what to do. I knew I hadn’t taken in enough marketing for sobriety to combat the marketing for drinking and my pre-installed genetic programming. I knew I had been around drinking a lot and it was starting to look good and I was starting to believe the lie I was telling myself that I wasn’t really that bad before I got sober. I knew I hadn’t sat down in weeks and let the truth flow out of my fingers like it is at the moment or gone to the gym and exerted myself until I felt a semblance of sanity.

So I did all of these things. I went to a meeting. I still felt like drinking. I went to the gym and stayed for three hours until I realized I was just using that as an escape. Still wanted to drink. I called people. I wrote down all the ways my life use to be unmanageable when I was drinking and doing drugs. I’m going to another meeting and even a fricking sober BBQ, which in this moment sounds kinda sad but I know it will be fun and filled with people I love. 

And yet I still feel uncomfortable. And there’s the rub. I want all these new tools I’ve collected to work like a drug or a drink. I want immediate relief. Instant gratification. Unfortunately, that's not always the case.

Someone said to me very early in my sobriety, “Getting sober is learning how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable and not drinking or using no matter how bad it gets.”

And that’s where I am right now. Acceptance. I’m uncomfortable. I’m pissed off I can’t celebrate the 4th like a normal person but the truth is I don’t really want that. And I’m resentful I don’t just want two beers—but that’s not who I am. It’s never who I’ve been and I doubt it’s ever who I will be and 95% of the time, I’m okay with that. Today, I’m in the 5% of the time I’m not. 

And it’s okay. Because I know it will pass and I know I’ll be glad I didn’t drink and you know what? Just sharing it with you…whoever is reading this…being honest about where I’m at…has made me feel better and suddenly, almost miraculously, I don't want to drink.

So thanks. And if you’re sober and struggling I get it. Holidays are hard. But if anything this day reminds me I’m not a slave to drugs and alcohol anymore. I’m free. Even if it’s uncomfortable sometimes, I’ll take it.