November 2, 2022 marked 11 years since I last drank alcohol.
I celebrated by posting myself on Instagram holding a sign that read, “I am 11
years sober today!”
Discussing my past relationship with alcohol is a task I struggle to do because I am
still coming to terms with my experiences.
Nonetheless, I’m committed to adding a face to mental illness and encouraging
others to prioritize healing.
So, I hit the “share” button on Instagram, stepped out of my comfort zone, and
virtually stood in my power as a woman in recovery.
Several sobriety-centered accounts kindly reposted my picture. Many of their
followers congratulated me and shared their sobriety anniversaries.
Amidst the support, several followers in the comment section downplayed my
sobriety, suggested I pick up drinking again and accused me of not being sober.
My age came up as a topic by supporters and skeptics alike.
Depending on who you ask, I present as a teenager or someone in their early
twenties. My teenage years and early twenties are far behind me.
Let’s be clear, I appreciate aging like Benjamin Button and am thankful for my
Ecuadorean and Nicaraguan genetics.
I welcome compliments about my youthful appearance. I do not welcome
comments weaponizing my presumed age to undermine my sobriety.
“Sooo you stopped drinking when you were 10 years old? Not impressed,” said one
Instagram user while another wrote, “I don’t know what 11 years means coming
from someone probably in their mid 20’s…..” said another.
In reality, I stopped drinking during my junior year of college after several years of
binge drinking that started in high school.
I tried hard to convince myself that my relationship with alcohol was normal during
those three years.
In hindsight, holding my drinking to a normalcy standard was too subjective.
Self-destruction would have been a more objective and helpful standard.
Objectively, repeatedly blacking out, vomiting, and jeopardizing my education,
health, and safety were self-destructive behaviors.
But, for many, those are considered normal drunk behaviors for a college student.
I was less motivated back then to challenge stereotypes surrounding alcohol abuse
because I hid behind these generalizations and social norms.
I rationalized and deliberately avoided “red flags” that mental health providers look
for to diagnose patients with alcohol dependency.
For example, I would go partying by myself and drink because I knew mental
health professionals considered drinking alone a warning sign for alcoholism.
No, I was not alone but I was lonely inside a club full of strangers.
Who decides how someone with an alcohol use disorder looks or even acts? The
truth is no two people with a drinking problem look or behave the same way.
Actress Drew Barrymore underwent treatment for alcohol and drug addiction at the
age of 13.
Supermodel Naomi Campbell is in recovery from alcohol abuse and does not
resemble the fictional alcoholic Frank Gallagher from Shameless.
Yet, Drew, Naomi, Frank, and I are all legitimate representations of alcohol use
disorder because we fell on the spectrum of alcohol abuse.
According to licensed mental health counselor and author Sarah Allen Benton,
alcohol use disorder is “a condition that ranges from mild to moderate to severe.
And it’s all still problem drinking, even if you think it’s ‘mild.’”
An alcohol use disorder diagnosis is rarely a straightforward process and involves
self-reporting answers from the alleged alcoholic.
Reacting to someone’s disclosure about the intensity, frequency, and consequences
of their drinking with disbelief or ridicule could obstruct their diagnosis and
treatment.
Respond with compassion when someone discusses their relationship with alcohol
instead of comparison.
It is very likely that the person sharing struggled to realize their problem let alone
share their experiences with others.
I am unsure whether those that downplay my sobriety are trying to make me or
themselves feel better.
I am sure that invalidating someone’s relationship with alcohol does not provide
relief or empower those in recovery.
Our community is healthier and stronger when we do not buy into misconceptions
about alcohol use.
Stereotypes fuel secrecy, stigma, and ignorance around alcohol recovery.
My name is Priscilla and I am what somebody in recovery from alcohol abuse looks
like.
About the author: Priscilla is a certified trauma recovery coach and
mental health speaker. Contact her directly at www.priscillamaria.com