The Gifts of Sobriety: 500 Days and Counting

There has never been anything in my life that I couldn’t set my mind to, work hard and accomplish all by myself.

Well, except this one really big thing: DRINKING.

Asking for help was truly one of the most brutally challenging and humbling experiences of my life. But it was also the wisest.

It is a decision I made 500 days ago today.

As of this very moment, I am 500 days sober. I have gone without my previously beloved Chardonnay, Champagne, Rose, Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir for a period of time that used to seem, quite simply, impossible. Before I made the decision to get the help I so desperately needed (through for months and months had REFUSED to admit), I struggled to go a week without drinking….so thinking about making it thirty felt like asking me to grown wings. But then I did it. And then six months and a year have passed. 

Addiction: How it happened

Have you ever been riding a bike, rollerskating, skateboarding or skiing down a big hill – at first you feel nothing but exhilaration – you are enjoying the moment and feel completely in control. But suddenly, you pick up speed, your heart begins to race as you realize there is something bigger than you at play – you feel powerless to control your next move….left? right? stop? Sometimes, you make the correct move and land safely. And sometimes, you are stopped hard at the bottom of the hill.

This is what my addiction to alcohol – wine specifically – felt like for me. Sometimes I landed safely. Until I didn’t.

I moved through my 20’s and 30’s as a ‘social drinker’. I would have a couple of glasses of wine with dinner and stop. I wouldn’t even think about it. I drank ‘only on the weekends’. The phrase, ‘it’s 5 o’clock somewhere’ was reserved ENTIRELY for vacation (never a Tuesday at noon). I might pour myself a glass of wine while making dinner and not even finish it (something the alcoholic in me can no longer comprehend).

As I aged, it seemed the world around me began to normalize alcohol as part of ‘fun’ and ‘everyday life’ more and more. It was ‘normal’ to have a wine lunch. Normal to drink on the sidelines at kids’ sporting events – normal for it to be SERVED and SOLD at kids’ sporting events. Normal for moms to ‘joke’ about their athletes accidentally grabbing the water bottle filled with Vodka instead of water. Normal for school events and mom’s groups to include wine or mimosas or to be planned around happy hour. Normal to wear shirts that said, “I’m only here for the Champagne” and hang signs in my office that said, “Hustle from Coffee to Champagne”. 

But sometime in my early 40’s, I tipped. Hard. And fast. Trauma, PTSD, anger, depression, deep sadness and a little bit of life felt like too much.

‘Wine helps’, they said. 

‘Wine helps’, I agreed. It soothes. It numbs. It eases my tension. I told myself I earned it, I deserved it, wine was self care.

Sadly, these are all lies we have been socialized to believe….lies we tell ourselves when we are flying down that hill with no way to stop on our own.

Wine (alcohol) is not self care. A bubble bath, a call with a friend, a massage, exercise, meditation, time by yourself to do the things you love, setting boundaries – THESE are self care. 

I didn’t want to think I had a problem.

 

I just couldn’t be an ‘alcoholic’. Alcoholism ran in my family. I knew better. Alcoholics HAVE to drink everyday. And in the morning. They shake from withdrawals. They show up at work drunk. They are homeless. They are willing to drink ANYTHING just to get alcohol in their system.

I was none of these.

But also….

They lie. They blackout. They feel a compulsion to drink that consumes their thoughts. They isolate. They sometimes wish they could just disappear. They hide when they drink – in the bathroom, in closets – anywhere. They constantly wake up telling themselves they won’t ‘do that again’. But then convince themselves they can control it – this time.

I was ALL of these.

One morning I found myself locked in the bathroom of my home, drinking warm leftover wine from the night before – out of a red plastic cup….I was drinking it so fast – JUST to get it in my system so I could FEEL IT and then NOT FEEL AT ALL, that I gagged. I was standing at the sink and watched myself in the mirror as I gagged. WHO THE HELL AM I? WHAT HAVE I BECOME? I collapsed and sobbed. 

Wine used to be a luxury….only served in a beautiful glass. A treat, an accent to a meal. And yet, it had become a way to disappear. I disliked myself so intensely, that each day, I was desperate to NUMB this girl I’d grown to hate.

But friends, I didn’t stop. Not yet. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I could’t. Addiction isn’t about self will or being ‘strong enough’ to just stop. It’s about having a moment – and for all of us it is different – a moment that allows the light to seep in, for hope to grow and foster the willingness to ask for help.

500 days ago, I did just that.

The Gifts of Sobriety

That girl I hated? I kind of like her now. She has the light back in her eyes and in her heart. As the cracks widened and hope grew, I have continued to live one day at a time – confident that this journey happened for me, not to me. I am open to constantly learning and recognizing there are parts of me I’m just getting to know.

I am a good mother. When I walked into treatment, my relationship with my extraordinary children was tenuous….because I had made it so. They mother they had known when they were little had faded behind the fog of addiction. She wasn’t trustworthy or reliable. But I am now. And the relationship I have with both of them is a treasure that I could’t have dreamed when I finally surrendered and admitted I couldn’t save myself. As I have re-anchored to the woman and mother I knew I could be, they have been more kind, forgiving and understanding than I likely deserve. I was reminded in treatment that I was not a ‘bad mom’, but rather a ‘good mom who had made bad decisions’….now I can feel the ‘good mom’ part again.

My senses have returned. While drinking, my goal was to numb the pain and anguish, but in doing so, I was also numbing my ability to truly see and experience the world around me and to remember.  Each season is more beautiful than the last because I feel it, each day is an adventure because I am here to absorb it for all of its crazy and frustration and amazing. Have the sound of wind chimes always been so delightful? Has the sky always been so blue and the sun on my skin felt so warm? Has loving a puppy ever been so consuming?

Laughter is real. I was so incredibly worried I would stop being fun, that the ‘sparkle’ in me would disappear like the bubbles in a flat glass of champagne. But on the contrary, I have found that my laugh is louder and comes from a place deep inside. My eyes are bright – because my soul is no longer clouded by the pain of hiding who I am and constantly worrying that I don’t belong.

Experience to share. I will always deeply regret hurting my children, but do firmly believe I am where I am supposed to be. I am supposed to be an example for them, someone who doesn’t drink again and is able to share how this experience impacted my world and my kids. I told my kids…..whether they are 18, 27, 42 or 65….if ever they think to themselves, “I wonder if I am drinking to much….I wonder if I have a problem…” – the ANSWER IS YES. This DOES NOT mean you are an alcoholic or that you need treatment. It DOES mean that your gut is warning you that you are on a dangerous path and that you need to make a change. I will always wonder what would have happened if I had heeded that warning – if I had made changes when I first googled, “why can’t I stop drinking?” years before I was regularly blacking out, lying to my kids and drinking most days. But, I do know, this is where I am supposed to be now.

How can I help? It’s a question I ask multiple times a day. I no longer try to fix everything, but seek to be of maximum service. I have added ‘substance abuse counselor’ to my resume and am gratefully working with people just like me a few times a week. 

I’m not graduating. When I left treatment 470 days ago, I wasn’t sure if I would ever ‘try’ to drink again. Maybe a glass of wine or champagne in a few years? I have since come to the realization that, for me, this journey is a permanent one. I’m not going to ‘be healed’ at some point and start over.

I’m a better version of me, a more self-aware, patient, kinder and hopeful human being living alcohol-free.

As always, friends – I am here if I can support you or anyone you love, in any way. 

THANK YOU, for the gift of your love, friendship and support as I continue to walk this path and keep my head up as I wander into the next 500 days. 

xoxoxo Danielle