So this idea is “stolen” because I heard someone share about it in a meeting saying they had heard about it somewhere else. Rarely are ideas that original, so I’m calling it the stolen idea challenge. And because this idea is inspired by agreement one from The Four Agreements, be impeccable with your word, I’m calling it the Stolen Idea Challenge: Watch Your Mouth and Be Impeccable With Your Word. So I’m going to challenge myself to do this for seven days, and I’m officially challenging you to do so as well. This is a challenge that I got from a Book Club participant in our discussion of The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz, in particular, agreement one, be impeccable with your word.
Seven days.
Watch your mouth before you speak, and if you catch yourself about to say something unkind either about someone else or, more importantly, yourself, stop it, say nothing, or find something different to say.
I’m curious how much it will force me to slow down in my own speech and thinking. Don Miguel Ruiz states in The Four Agreements, “The word is the most powerful tool you have as a human; it is the tool of magic. But like a sword with two edges, your word can create the most beautiful dream, or your word can destroy everything around you.”
Example One – Gossip:
You may find yourself wanting to talk about other people’s situations that have NOTHING to do with you. Here’s an example, if you’re in recovery and you notice someone is having a hard time, if you catch yourself talking about this person you know is struggling. Still, they aren’t there to be a part of this conversation. Is anything that is about to come out of your mouth going to empower this person to do better, or is it just feeling good to gossip and talk about someone else’s problems? Don Miguel Ruiz cites the frequently used saying, “Misery loves company,” in his discussion of agreement one because emotionally, it can feel easier to spiral into a charged conversation about someone else rather than practice discipline and refraining from toxic conversations.
I’ve been guilty of gossip many, many times, and I am going to make an effort for seven days to stop.
Example Two – How We Talk About Ourselves:
In the text, the author also highlights how individuals are very quick to use “the word” against themselves and gives examples of how we say things. He writes, “Oh, I look fat, I look ugly. I’m getting old, I’m losing my hair. I’m stupid, I never understand anything. I will never be good enough, and I’m never going to be perfect.”
With that being said, watch your mouth. Watch it closely. Any time you start to say anything about yourself that you likely wouldn’t be comfortable saying to someone else you love and adore, stop it. Either reframe it positively or don’t say anything at all.
I’ll try this myself for seven days to see where it takes me.
I was 42 when I got sober. No one tells you that you can do that. That you can party and binge drink for half of your life, make it through way too many moments that should have killed you, and then finally hit a point where you see that this…this so-called life…was not living at all.
Kelly, provided by author.
While living this lifestyle, I told myself that I was having a great time. I loved going out to the bar, hanging out with people I never would have if I had been sober, but who I called my PEOPLE, living dangerously, putting myself and others at risk…oh yeah, this was FUN (insert eye roll here). Waking up not knowing where I was, where my car was, this happened more often than I would like to admit. But since my life revolved around the party and being the center of attention, people envied this life, right? It was just who I was. My personality and my reputation were the girl turned woman who would just never fully grow up. I lived by the code “go hard or go home”.
I don’t ever remember committing to a Dry January in my life. I only remember committing to just enough time for the last hangover to wear off before it was time to get ready and head back out. Taking breaks wasn’t something I considered. I barely remember taking a break even after my first DUI, despite all signs pointing to there being a huge problem. By then, drugs were also integral to my story, and everything was impacted by my addictions. Relationships, my job, friendships all suffered, but I had the bar, the booze, and the blow. I didn’t need anything else. I was still operating as if all was well in my world, and somehow, I still had many folx fooled, including myself.
Time passed and I had a child when I was almost 38. My pregnancy was very healthy, and I felt better than I had in a long time. Imagine that, not partying made me feel better! I just knew that I didn’t have a “real” problem since it was so simple for me to stop drinking and using right away. This was the false narrative I sold to myself. My daughter was born, beautiful and healthy, and it was only a couple of months into her life that I had some wine at a Christmas party. This set things back in motion in terms of my drinking habits. As I expected would happen, her father and I eventually parted ways when my daughter was just over a year old, and we assumed roles as coparents, which gave me more “me” time to wreck my life again. Mid-wreckage, I got married (another futile attempt at normalcy), got depressed, started drinking more, but told myself at least the drugs were no longer a thing. But by this time, alcohol was ravaging my life. If I wasn’t partying when my daughter was with her dad, I was recovering from it or thinking about it. I started to care about myself less and less. I felt as though I didn’t deserve the people in my life. I didn’t want the life I had…or I did want it, but I didn’t know how to have it without the booze. But soon, another DUI and some serious consequences sunk me to MY rock bottom and that was when I had enough. My first day sober was July 28, 2019.
After more than two decades of addiction, I simply stopped because I knew I would die if I didn’t. I also knew that a slow suicide was not how I was going down. I had a responsibility to my beautiful little girl to be the example of the strong woman of whom I always raved about. The woman who could do it all, be anything she wanted, and most importantly, could be happy. I wanted her to see me happy. I wanted to live a long time and see her grow up. I immediately went to substance abuse counseling and worked at it this time. I tried AA, but I determined it wasn’t for me. I threw myself into journaling, running, lifting weights, and crying when no one was at home. I was healing. I was getting stronger. The shame was starting to dissolve .I was becoming who I had been all along, but the shadows were lifting. Finally, after a divorce, a move, and some more healing, I felt like a non-drinker was just who I was. This was part of my new normal. I just didn’t drink. But I also didn’t really socialize or make new friends in real life. I established a huge community on Instagram and loved it to bits, but it was, and has been, my main source of sober support. Now, at around three- and one-half years sober, things are shifting for me. What I feel like I need now looks very different than what I needed in early sobriety.
Kelly and her daughter. Photo provided by Kelly.
You see, getting sober in your forties (or beyond) adds some interesting challenges to the journey. These weren’t obvious to me until around year three and this was mainly because of changes I started to see in myself as a woman entering midlife. If you are here with me, or have been here already, you know what I am talking about without me even sharing. The physical changes that come are fast and furious and they have taken a huge mental toll on me. My self-esteem that I worked so hard to rebuild in sobriety has suddenly plummeted because of these changes. Party girls like me, when we are in our twenties or thirties, we are used to getting what we want. We know how to use our sexuality and typically flaunt it. Now, sober and 46, I may as well consider myself celibate and do not feel sexual. Sexuality and sobriety are something else entirely, but when I consider my saggy parts, my unwelcomed shape, and how I feel about myself now, I just don’t have the capacity to consider dating or what comes with it.
Additionally, my mental health, which was really soaring by year three sober has taken a tumble because of the hormonal peaks and valleys that come along with peri- and/or menopause. My emotions are everywhere, and this can make me feel like I am simply losing it. I have not felt like I want to drink over it, but I could see how one might have a slip in these f*ck it moments.
The fact that no one is out here talking about sobriety for women in midlife is not surprising given how society tells us we are useless once we reach a certain age. We are in the age of invisibility, and it feels like no one cares. This is a demographic that is hidden on Instagram…and, as someone who shares predominantly about sobriety there, I feel lost at times amidst my younger influencer counterparts who are choosing to get sober earlier in life. I finally hit a moment where I chose to start meshing my midlife struggles with my sobriety and I’ve gotten very vulnerable with my posts. The feedback and the comments I have seen there make it abundantly clear that we need to talk more about this. I am working on a blog to start sharing more about my journey and hope that I can somehow create community there as well as IG. As I have learned through my sobriety, we can achieve so much more when we are surrounded by others who understand. I hope if you are reading this piece and any of it resonates, that you will feel invited to reach out to me. I would love to grow alongside of you.
Kelly. Provided by author.
Kelly Belew is a single mom living in Virginia who also works as a portfolio manager as her “real job”, but her passions are writing, creating content and community on her Instagram platform @kelz_living_well and her blog of the same name. When she got sober on July 28, 2019 at 42, she had no idea just how much her life was about to shift. With sobriety came self love, but not before working through the mounds of shame and guilt associated with decades of partying. Kelly went on to create a platform on Instagram that brought sober women together, and ultimately created an online community for women both in the US and Canada. Her focus has now shifted into working towards connecting women who are working through a midlife shift in addition to all of the trials and twists that come with navigating a sober life as a middle aged human. In her free time, she loves to practice yoga, hike and walk with her daughter & dog, and read.
Audio of the text for people who prefer to listen.
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.
Priscilla over 11 years ago, before recovery.
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.
Priscilla in 2022. Provided by author.
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
I’m Ally, a London-based recovery and life coach. Is it uncharitable to say that I feel really conflicted about the popularity of thirty-day sober challenges like this one?
Is this the sober coach equivalent of kicking a puppy?
Who, after all, would come out against a charitable initiative designed to raise funds for McMillan Cancer Support?
Because jumping into a sober challenge might make you feel worse, not better, and I’m about to tell you why.
But perhaps first, to prove to you that I’m not a monster, let’s start with some of the undoubted positives of taking part.
Sober October is indeed a fantastic charity endeavour
The month-long challenge/fundraising campaign was started in 2014 by the UK-based charity, Macmillan Cancer Support, providing support to millions of people living with cancer. At the time of writing, this year’s Sober October has raised £468 949, and all you’ve got to do is forgo Friday Happy hour for a few weeks. For many, that seems like a small trade-off to help fight cancer.
What better way to support a cancer fundraiser than by reducing your own chances of developing it?
Alcohol is carcinogenic. Drinking it increases your risk of developing multiple types of cancer, including breast, bowel, mouth, and throat cancers. Any reduction in alcohol consumption would positively impact your chances of developing cancer.
As a recovery coach working in the field of addiction recovery, I have been trained to always move a client towards harm reduction. It isn’t only abstinence that is the measure of a successful client outcome. Any steps that an individual is prepared to take towards reducing their alcohol intake, including the use of challenges like Sober October, is classed as a win in my book.
#soberoctober is a trendy catch-all.
The hashtag is fun, punchy, and easy to understand…that’s what makes it powerful.
Trends are easy to jump onto. They create a buzz and an excitement around an issue. And being sober is not traditionally known as something fun or exciting! As a sober advocate, I’m thrilled to have more people flirting with sobriety and doing it in a way that feels fun, inclusive, and (for some) easy to do.
You’re getting sober by stealth
Another huge benefit of jumping on a sober challenge is that it could spark someone’s interest in sober living. Thirty days is certainly long enough for the fog of alcohol to lift from the system and to start to feel the benefits that often come with living hangover free.
30 days seems attainable and non-threatening. While not drinking forever stretches out ahead of us like an endlessly tall mountain, a month seems like a molehill in comparison. Forever is unattainable. A month is more manageable and reduces overwhelm.
And once you’ve done thirty days…well you might as well do another. And another and another…and before you know it you’ve tricked your brain into getting sober by stealth.
Not drinking for a month sounds easy…surely everyone can do that?
But the thing is, what if you can’t do that?
And here’s where I kick the #soberoctober puppy. Because what if you can’t stay stopped?
For many, abstaining from alcohol isn’t as easy-breezy as a catchy hashtag suggests. Perhaps you’re five days in, three days in, or one day in and you can’t do it. You’ve pushed the ‘F**k it! Button’ and have resumed your drinking behaviours. Perhaps you’re now feeling the guilt, shame and hopelessness rush in. Perhaps you feel like you’ve failed, further compounding the isolation and hopelessness that you already felt before you took part in the challenge.
This is where a hashtag can’t convey the kind of nuance and the large spectrum of individual needs associated with alcohol use disorder and the levels of difficulty involved in stopping drinking.
Anyone who engages with alcohol sits somewhere on a spectrum between use, misuse, abuse, and dependence. An individual who intermittently uses alcohol might find it relatively easy to forgo it for a month. At the other end of the spectrum, an individual who has become dependent on alcohol would experience a high level of difficulty in any attempt to quit. It would, in fact, be downright unwise for them to go ‘cold turkey’ without medical supervision.
You’re not in the club
Getting sober is hard, especially in the first few days, weeks, and months. It’s normal to feel emotionally raw, vulnerable, exhausted, and pretty s**t. But this reality often isn’t presented on social media’s highlight reel.
If you follow the #soberoctober hashtag, you might find your feed brimming with happy, shiny sober people telling you about how great they feel. And you don’t feel that way. It’s like you’re out in the cold with your face pressed up against the glass of a warm, cozy sober party that you’re not invited to.
Let’s normalise the reality that getting used to life without alcohol can be tough and emotionally confronting. Many of us were using alcohol to cope with life and these don’t go away when we stop drinking. There’s bound to be a lot of work to do on ourselves as we recalibrate to living life sober.
The process of healing from physical and emotional dependence on alcohol takes more than a month and a hashtag, so please don’t feel bad if you’re finding this hard. If alcohol has played a big part of your life for a long time, it’s normal to feel emotionally raw and exhausted when you remove it. You are not alone. And if following the #soberoctober hashtag makes you feel that way, then don’t follow it.
Cutting out alcohol isn’t the same as doing a juice cleanse
Alcohol is an addictive, compulsive substance, and the fact that its use has become so normalised in our world doesn’t change that. I feel like this ‘challenge’ mentality lumps sobriety in with the world of wellness fads and detox diets. There’s a whole diet industry built on quick fixes and instant results that don’t consider long-term impact.
To me, challenges feel very surface-level and encourage cyclical restrict-then-rebound patterns that keep many people stuck. If we are not going deeper and questioning our habits and behaviours, then we can’t expect meaningful change or a sustainable recovery.
If you’re a gray-area drinker, a sober challenge could perpetuate the problem.
A gray area drinker is characterised as someone whose relationship to alcohol is problematic but who does not have severe alcohol use disorder. Individuals in this gray area may find themselves using alcohol in excess or in emotional ways but are still able to function in their lives. They may be able to go for long periods without drinking, but when they do engage with alcohol, their relationship with it is disordered.
For this type of individual, the ability to stop for periods like Sober October may further cement self-justification of damaging drinking behaviour. ‘I can stay off booze for a month therefore I don’t have problem.’ The abstinence challenge ends up perpetuating problem drinking because it is used it to prove to yourself and others that your drinking isn’t that bad.
My other issue with ‘challenge mentality’ is that I think I’m a bit of a rebel
I tend to have an aversion to ‘group think’ or jumping on bandwagons, and it’s not something I want to encourage.
As a coach, I often see clients who have lost trust and confidence in themselves and their own abilities. They look outwards for answers to their problems and are sometimes vulnerable to falling for quick-fix schemes or learn to look for solutions from experts rather than themselves.
It’s my job to encourage clients to develop their own inner resources rather than look to me or anyone else for answers. Empowering clients to trust their own intuition and make their own best decisions is an important part of my coaching process.
If you were working with me and wanted to take part in a challenge, my advice would always to be to approach these things with a critical eye before jumping in and ask yourself: why? As a participant in #soberoctober, what’s your motivation? What are you hoping to gain? Do you enjoy being part of groups and challenges as a whole, or do you find it overwhelming? Will participating in a challenge serve you and move you toward your goals? Are you doing it because you see everyone else is doing it and you feel like you should?
For me, the concept of challenges often has that whiff of something gimmicky or sales-y, and it makes me wrinkle up my nose and walk the other way.
So what’s the answer here?
Do I really think we shouldn’t be using sober challenges as a tool to support sobriety? Am I really a miserable curmudgeon who doesn’t want to raise money for charity?
Photo provided by Ally.
In typical coaching fashion, I’m going to end this by saying that I don’t have the answers, only questions I would want to ask you if we were having this conversation face-to-face. I’m hoping that this post sparks a conversation with you about the positives and potential pitfalls of taking part in sober challenges like Sober October and draws attention to some of the downsides that aren’t really talked about.
If you are someone who struggles with sober challenges, then my sincere desire for you is that you explore other avenues of support. There are multiple paths available to you to help you get sober and stay sober. I offer one on one recovery coaching, where I will walk with you on the path toward a sustainable recovery.
If you’ve got any experiences to share about sober challenges and their impact on you, then let’s talk! I’d love to hear from you.
This is for you if you are anything how I used to be.
Maybe you said you would stop drinking after September 30th for “Sober October,” except that it’s only October 2nd, and you are already drinking.
Maybe you woke up yesterday morning and eagerly wrote a note in an app or on your calendar marking October 1st as your “day one” because you got tired of saying, “one day I’ll stop drinking,” except that now you’re at day zero.
Maybe you’re looking at all the fun posts with the hashtag #SoberOctober, wishing you could post something just as festive and equally as inspiring. Still, you feel like you can’t because you’re the farthest thing from sober on this October day, and the most spooky thing you’re doing right now is feeling anxiety sink your stomach because you said you were going to stop drinking and haven’t. You lied to yourself, saying, “It’s just a month, right? Anyone can do that,” and now, you’re drunk on the internet.
I know because that was me.
I can’t tell you how often I would look at myself in the mirror, promising that I would stop, only to drink hours later. Alcohol was more than something I liked to do. By the end of my drinking career, it was something that I needed to do. It was the only way to avoid becoming violently ill with withdrawal symptoms such as shakes, seizures, vomiting, and so on.
Suppose you have genuinely tried your best to stop drinking these past few days, and you have this unbelievable compulsion to do so, to the point that you regret it and hate yourself just a little bit more with every gulp. You complicate your life, day in and out, just to drink even after you firmly promised yourself or others that you wouldn’t. You might have more than a problematic relationship with alcohol. If you are like me, you are fully addicted, and something as simple as putting the bottle down because everyone else is doing it on social media is not enough and, frankly, probably not safe for you to do on your own.
Everyone’s journey is different, and what worked for me may not work for you, but when I could not physically pull myself away from the bottle, going to treatment helped. It did not resolve all my problems, as my own story includes many relapses, though now I have been continuously sober since November 2020. However, treatment gave me a space to stop safely, which was impossible for me to do on my own in the privacy of my home. Medications that doctors administered allowed me to safely go through what can be a deadly withdrawal process.
If you’re where I was, and you’re already struggling with “Sober October,” seek medical advice. If you do not have a physician who can assist you, SAMHSA, the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, has a treatment referral line open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Call them at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).
I recently read the poet Rumi’s words, “The wound is the place where the light enters you.” If your “Sober October” is turning out to be incredibly painful, then this is the opportunity for the breakthrough you need to make space for the life you deserve.
“Can I have the uh, turkey bacon, egg whites…I mean that sandwich right there?” I slowly pointed at the sandwich I was eyeing. I couldn’t even clearly state what I wanted to eat at the Starbucks inside the airport. The woman behind the counter looked at me, smiled and nodded as she probably does to all the tired folks waiting on their flights, and grabbed my breakfast item. I shook my head and smiled. “Sorry, I guess I’m not fully awake yet this morning,” I said to her.
I have been up since 2:45 AM and went to sleep shortly after midnight. Not because I was drunk, but because I packed at the last minute and then stayed on the phone for hours. So yes, I am exhausted. But this type of tired is the good kind.
Airport selfie. TPA. 8.25.22. Sober on 2 hours of sleep.
Before quitting drinking, mornings on the day of travel often looked drastically different from how my morning today looks.
How many mornings have I stumbled into an airport still smelling like the liquor I was guzzling the night before, barely packed and praying I didn’t forget anything important? How many times have I anxiously gone through airport security, my hands shaking with early signs of withdrawal as I held my ID and boarding pass, searching the terminal for its airport bars? I wanted to see how many places there were to drink. I moved around and went to each one separately in an attempt to not make it blatantly obvious that I was trying to drink at least four before my flight that was departing in two hours. How often did I go to these bars as early as 7 AM, rapidly scanning the other patrons’ glasses to ensure that I was not the only one consuming alcohol first thing in the morning? To feel a sense of belonging? To feel a little less shameful?
I’ll be twenty-one months sober on the 28th of August, and I’m grateful that the fatigue I am experiencing at the airport is simply from lack of sleep and nothing else. I won’t arrive at my final destination, relieved and shocked that I successfully flew internationally during a black out. I won’t be throwing up on my flight. I won’t be spending over a hundred dollars on expensive drinks that will barely keep me satiated until I reach my destination. I won’t be holding the little plastic airline cup with two hands to avoid shaking and spilling the little airplane bottle of vodka I bought.
Before getting sober, no matter how far I would travel, I had no vacation from my drinking. I was trapped. This morning I’m tired, but more importantly, I’m grateful to be free from alcohol’s hold on me today.
“I don’t get how I actually got hired.” “I don’t know that I’m ready to get my kids back. It’ll just be a matter of time before I mess up.” “This relationship is drama free, and I don’t know how long that will last.” Thoughts like these disrupt many people’s sense of security when they experience imposter syndrome. The term, which has grown in popularity, basically means that when one experiences imposter syndrome, that individual doubts their worth, and they feel like a phony. Though they might be seeing positive outcomes for what they do, this person doesn’t truly accept that they are deserving of such results.
In sobriety, imposter syndrome goes to another level, which I call sober imposter syndrome. Sober imposter syndrome is when a person in recovery doubts their worth in receiving the gifts of their new alcohol and drug-free life. For some, it can be as big as questioning why a company hired them for a job they know they qualify for and can show up for. For others, it might be finding themselves in a healthy relationship and constantly expecting something to go wrong. In other cases, it might be someone who successfully removed themselves from an unsafe living situation and then questioning if they did the right thing.
Here’s the thing, we do deserve all the good things that happen to us in sobriety, from the greatest of favorable outcomes to the smallest ones, like waking up without a hangover or feeling sick. These things result from consistently making good choices after deciding to live one’s life for the better.
Sober imposter syndrome, however, is a force to be reckoned with, and these are three thoughts for fighting it off.
1. Your Addiction Doesn’t Negate Your Spirit
You have to believe that your addiction doesn’t define your spirit. Many have internalized that we are morally bankrupt because of our previous habits. According to the popular narrative, we must be “bad” people if we depend on any substance. However, the face of addiction that society paints is false. You don’t have to be a dangerous threat to be an addict or identify as an alcoholic. I was a successful educator who did a great job every day when I walked into my classroom. I was nurturing, caring, and encouraging, so much so that I was recognized as a state teacher of the year in Kentucky in 2019. I was all those great things and STILL drank a fifth of alcohol a day. You might be the mother who gets everything done in the home, and your kids feel loved and safe, and as soon as they fall asleep, you attach yourself to the bottle and drown yourself every night. These two things, being a person who contributes positively to this world and living with substance use disorder, are not mutually exclusive.
Does being in recovery negate our poor decisions while in active addiction? No. For many of us, we are still living with the consequences of our actions in the past. These might be ongoing court battles, debt, health problems, etc. That is the natural ebb and flow of life. All actions have consequences. Those past decisions we have already been dealt the consequences for don’t define our worth. We must accept the results of our previous choices, AND we also need to separate ourselves from those decisions. The only way forward is to cut that rope we have created in our minds that ties our sense of worth to our past.
2. What Is Possible For Others Is Possible For You
If other people have received blessings after changing their lives for the better, now that you’re in recovery, what makes you so different that you can’t accomplish the goals you have set for yourself?
Step outside of yourself for a moment and visualize the entire Earth’s population, which is 8 billion people. What do you think is so uniquely terrible about YOU that the other 7,999,999,999 people on this planet deserve more than you do? That type of thinking doesn’t make sense.
When anyone gains something in this world as a result of working towards an achievement, their gain is hard evidence for you to see that you too can get to where you want to be. If someone else’s past consists of hurtful or harmful decisions, but now they are living in alignment with higher living and attracting good things, it’s because they worked for those things and are deserving. Their past isn’t stopping their progress. Your past shouldn’t stop your progress, either.
Think about it this way, so many people with addictions do not survive their battles. They never live to be sober. So if you are reading this, you are ahead first because you’re alive. And if you are sober and alive, you’re winning because attaining your goals is actually possible.
Do you think that your being alive and sober is by accident? Your sobriety is NOT a mistake.
3. The Only Thing Stopping You From Your Desires, Is You
If you have decided to stay sober today, you already chose to level up. There is much power that lies in words. What you say carries a force. If you tell yourself you don’t deserve that new job, that you don’t deserve this new healthy relationship, that you don’t deserve your quiet and safe new apartment, then you know what, you eventually won’t.
Negative self-talk becomes a reality. We must shift to positive, higher-level language when good things happen because we’re sober. First, practice gratitude for anything positive so that you can attract more things to be grateful for. I’m not saying you have to do a whole song and dance routine to express gratitude, though you are welcome to it if you like, but acknowledging that something is there and that it is good goes a long way.
Second, accept that you have earned that blessing and deserve all of it. Remind yourself that it did not come out of nowhere because you worked for it. Look in the mirror and tell yourself that, write it in your journal, or say it to yourself while you’re in the shower. Do this for the big things, but even for the little ones. Suppose you decided not to drink or use drugs today. In that case, any detail about your day is worth being grateful for, like drinking your coffee in the morning without your hands shaking or waking up without feeling sick. Those are all natural consequences of not giving into your addiction that are well earned.
Your sobriety is not a mistake. Take advantage of the gifts of recovery and enjoy them because not everyone gets the same opportunity we have today.
Jessica Dueñas is the founder and certified life coach at Bottomless to Sober. For more information about life coaching services, click here.
If you’re a teacher, you are working in a climate that has gotten exponentially more challenging with time. Summer was likely a great relief for many, but the lack of structure can lead to more unhealthy behaviors. If you already had a questionable relationship with alcohol, you might have been using your time off drinking even more than you did before. Now that it is time for many of you to start getting ready to return to your school buildings, you may be worrying if your drinking is a problem. Is your alcohol consumption at the point where you may need help but are scared that it’s too late to do anything about it because you can’t miss work?
“But, I’m a professional. I do well at work and take care of all my responsibilities (finances, kids, family, pets, etc.).” None of that is relevant. When it comes to alcohol abuse, what you accomplish despite your drinking does not negate the fact that your relationship with alcohol is a problem.
The National Institutes of Health (NIH) uses guidelines to determine if a person falls on the spectrum of alcohol use disorder. It is essential to highlight the word spectrum because one person’s problems with alcohol may look drastically different from another. Identifying alcohol abuse is not about comparing your drinking to someone else’s and being tempted to say, “Well, I am not as bad as her, so I must not have a problem.” This analysis is about your health and your life. This reflection needs to be about you solely. Examine what your thought process is and what your behavior is when it comes to drinking. Is it an issue?
Here are some questions the NIH provides to ask regarding drinking.
In the past year, have you:
Had times when you ended up drinking more, or longer, than you intended? More than once wanted to cut down or stop drinking, or tried to, but couldn’t?
Spent a lot of time drinking? Or being sick or getting over other aftereffects?
Wanted a drink so badly you couldn’t think of anything else?
Found that drinking—or being sick from drinking—often interfered with taking care of your home or family? Or caused job troubles? Or school problems?
Continued to drink even though it was causing trouble with your family or friends?
Given up or cut back on activities that were important or interesting to you, or gave you pleasure, in order to drink?
More than once gotten into situations while or after drinking that increased your chances of getting hurt (such as driving, swimming, using machinery, walking in a dangerous area, or having unprotected sex)?
Continued to drink even though it was making you feel depressed or anxious or adding to another health problem? Or after having had a memory blackout?
Had to drink much more than you once did to get the effect you want? Or found that your usual number of drinks had much less effect than before?
Found that when the effects of alcohol were wearing off, you had withdrawal symptoms, such as trouble sleeping, shakiness, restlessness, nausea, sweating, a racing heart, or a seizure? Or sensed things that were not there?
If, after reading this list, you are uncomfortable with the fact that you may have a problem with alcohol, I first want to say that you’re not alone. I taught successfully for thirteen years and won numerous awards, and at the end of my drinking career, I drank a fifth of bourbon a night and excelled the next day at work. I’ve been sober since November 28, 2020, so I promise you that it gets better and that knowing you have an issue can only serve your higher good.
Maybe you have tried to stop drinking only to find that, for different reasons, you really could not control it on your own. You’ve heard of people going to treatment facilities, but now that school is around the corner, you feel like your opportunity to get assistance is gone. You think that you might have to wait for another break in the school year to come.
“Who is going to cover my classes?” “I don’t want to/don’t have the mental capacity to write these sub plans.” “I worry about my classroom.” “Will this go on file against me?” “I’ve never been to rehab. I’m scared to go.” “I don’t want to leave my kids at home.” “What if I lose my job?” “What if no one watches my children/pets at home?”
I, too, have said most of the above, but it is important to note that eventually if you don’t stop drinking, many of the fears listed will materialize anyway. You will decrease the likelihood of experiencing significant losses and consequences by going to treatment for a week or several weeks.
There are many resources and avenues for getting help outside of a treatment facility, and you can find those here. However, for those considering going into a facility, please be aware that if you have worked in the same district for over a year, you may be eligible to take advantage of the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) program with the U.S. Department of Labor. This program also applies to employees at agencies at the local, state, and federal levels. The specific line of the act that would apply to entering a treatment facility is “a serious health condition that makes the employee unable to perform the essential functions of his or her job.” Mental health IS health, so a problem with addiction IS a serious health issue. In my personal experience, I used FMLA as a public school teacher when I needed treatment.
So what is FMLA? It is a federal program that, upon approval, allows individuals to take up to twelve weeks (or twenty-six, it depends on the circumstances) off of work to take care of different medical needs. This time off is usually NOT paid time off (not ideal, I know). However, the employee keeps all their benefits, and their job is guaranteed for them when they return. You are also protected by confidentiality, so your employer cannot disclose the nature of your absence to others.
When I used it, my employer was only allowed to say that I was “on leave,” my accounts, such as my school email (your district may do something different), were put on pause until I returned. Also, when I say employer, I mean your human resources department. If you disclose your situation to your school principal, that is your choice, but the HR department cannot tell your principal why you are on leave. In my case, I did not write any lesson plans, either.
I share this information about FMLA because I was unaware I could use it when struggling with alcohol. I learned about it when I ended up in a hospital and the doctor on call recommended that I enter into treatment. My first reaction was, “No. I can’t. I’m a teacher.” He proceeded to explain FMLA to me, and when my family contacted my district’s human resources department, the HR staff confirmed that with the proper documentation, I was eligible for it.
Many teachers have lost their jobs due to drinking, and if they haven’t lost their jobs, they have suffered other consequences, too. When I taught, I built my schedule around alcohol so that I could teach, lesson plan, grade, drink, pass out and get up only to repeat the same cycle every day for years. Alcohol dictated everything for me, and it made me physically very sick, yet I still successfully put up appearances of doing well. I was quietly letting it kill me. You don’t have to spend another school year suffering if you are still teaching. I let my problem spiral to the point where I had to leave, but you don’t have to.
“Rehab is like a fortress. When you come in, we protect you from your demons, but when you leave, those demons are right where you left them, waiting. So how are you going to be different when you walk out those doors?” We were in a women’s session and the counselor, Kathryn, stopped to ask us that question.
Jessica today. Despite the ending of the story, today, Jessica has been sober since November 28th, 2020.
Shit. I didn’t know. Was I different? My eyes shifted from side to side to see if anyone showed signs of having morphed.
Then, as I processed more of what she said, I also realized that this so-called fortress didn’t do that good of a job protecting us from our demons or even ourselves while inside. The counselors always sat around in meetings each morning before coming in to work with us. Kathryn was always in the know about all the patient gossip and drama. But how could she ignore that the day before one of my friends found a twenty-something slumped over in the bathroom stall? He had snuck pain pills in and nodded off after using them in the restroom. He had to go to the ER.
Did she not get filled in by management on how the week before Melissa, a mom in treatment on a judge’s order, was caught high on meth? This was her last chance to get her kids back from foster care and she ended up high after almost twenty days sober. “I just didn’t expect to see it, right in my face. When Connor snuck meth in and showed it to me, I didn’t think about anything but that feeling. I just want to apologize to the group for using drugs here. Now I don’t know what the judge will do with my kids.” I remember her holding back tears as she apologized.
I wish I could go back to that moment and hold Melissa, then shake her and yell at her, “Don’t apologize to us! You thought you were safe and some idiot used what he knew would be a weakness against you. Don’t be ashamed because you relapsed. You are not a bad mom. You are not a bad person. Be proud that you’re still here and willing to continue. Be proud that you accepted another chance. Be proud that you’re getting help!”
Really, these were all things I wish people would have said to me each time I relapsed last year. I say these things now to others when they relapse. I can’t help but wonder how Melissa is today and where her kids are. She always carried these slightly crinkled pictures of them in her folder and liked to pull them out in meetings and sessions. Big smiles, glowing skin, big messy curls that looked like they just got tousled while they had a blast playing. I hope they’re all together. I left before she did and lost touch quickly after. Did she become that “different” person that Kathryn said she had to be? Was she able to ward off the dragons laying wait outside of rehab after the five weeks were up? What a long time for her … for anyone.
Thirty-five days.
I had thirty-five days of peace, away from everything. These five weeks in rehab were meant for me to cocoon myself before I emerged and flew away like some beautiful butterfly. My days in rehab were coming to an end as I felt my discharge day getting closer every morning. I saw the new date on the board. June 27 … June 28 … and finally June 29, the night before my departure.
“Alright Ms. Jessica, let’s review and sign off on your aftercare plan. We are confirming that you are in fact going back to your house where you live by yourself, and you will be attending IOP (intensive outpatient program) for nine weeks,” said Nancy. Nancy was the social worker in charge of our transitional plans. “Are you sure you don’t want to go into sober living?” she asked. I shook my head. Hell no, I thought. There was absolutely no way that I was going to move into sober living. I was ready to be in my own space by myself and back with my puppy Cruz.
I’ll be honest, I had the fleeting thought that maybe going straight home wasn’t the best idea. Then I had another thought that if I wanted to drink, my location wasn’t going to stop me from doing so, so I might as well go home. These back and forth conversations in my head were draining me of any morale I had left.
After weeks of classes and group sessions, I could teach someone else the ins and outs of treatment. I could tell you exactly what triggers are and the science behind addiction and why we were all after dopamine whether you drank cheap liquor or shot heroin. I could tell you all about twelve-step and other recovery programs that we were introduced to.
I was the valedictorian of rehab, a perfect mirror. Anything that I was taught I reflected back to everyone well enough to make them think, “Jessica’s got it,” when in fact, I did not. My last night in our group meeting, we went around the room and everyone had something nice to say about their time knowing me and their confidence in my ability to do well. I smiled at everyone and gave big hugs and promises of staying friends and keeping in touch. Internally, I cringed as each kind word made my stomach sink further.
I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself.
I remember going to bed, bags packed, outfit selected to go home in. In my head, I planned to go back to normal and just not drink. But deep down there was that damn sinking feeling. I felt it every time I tried to convince myself that I was going back to “normal.” I tried to replay everyone’s kind words, but I couldn’t find ease or comfort in them. I pulled my hidden sleep meds from my bra and swallowed them quickly so I could fall fast asleep and escape the sense of impending doom I hated so much.
The morning came and my friend who had been taking care of Cruz since the day I went into treatment was waiting there to pick me up. I walked out into the sun and into her arms. It was so good to hug a friend from the outside world. We went straight to the grocery store where the smell of cilantro in the produce aisle made my mouth water. I remember filling my basket full of bright fruits and other healthy snacks. I was planning to keep up the balanced eating habits I picked up in treatment.
Though I was dead sober, I don’t remember the ride back to my house. It was a blur. She came into the house with me, did a quick safety check to make sure there weren’t any bottles remaining, embraced me, and asked, “Alright girl, you gonna be good?” Uhhhhh, I thought, but I said, “Yeah, it’ll be tough, but I’ll be good.” As I shut the door behind her, I turned around and looked into my house. It was an empty, painful sight to take in.
So, it’s just you and me, I thought. Just me and this house of broken dreams. I went to turn the TV on, but nothing happened. I forgot that I had fallen onto it while drunk at some point and broke some cables. I opened my laptop to get online, but there was a picture of my dead boyfriend, handsome and joyful, so I slammed the computer shut. I sat at the table, but the seat felt too hard. I went to the couch, but the seat was covered in dog hair. I moved to another chair, but it felt empty.
The house I lived in in Louisville. Picture is from a realtor site.
Then, like a small drop of water that will eventually overflow a bucket, the thought of having a drink made its way into my head. From this one thought, the desire immediately rushed throughout my body. I was overcome by the fiendish sensation.
I know I shouldn’t, I know I shouldn’t, I told myself. This thought was immediately followed by rationalizations.
Well, I can order a bottle and I don’t have to drink it, I said to myself as I got on my phone to get on the alcohol delivery app.
Yeah, I can pour it down the drain after a few drinks, I told myself when I closed out my cart and completed my purchase.
I repeated these same thoughts over the next hour as I waited for the delivery. I reawakened my old routine of pretending everything was fine. I called my sister, “Hey! Just letting you know I’m finally home … Yeah, it’s definitely weird … Yeah, I promise I’ll call if anything … Yeah, I’m so sleepy I’m going to go to bed early…” I also sent a few texts to let people know that all was “good” and I was going to “bed” because I was “tired.”
This was around 7:30 PM. I was not going to bed.
It was in my hands and then my mouth. It burned in my throat. I gagged at first because I had forgotten what it was like and had chugged it straight from the bottle like I had been in a desert and hit an oasis.
I was finally out of this protective space that treatment was intended to be for me, this so-called fortress, this cocoon. I was in fact, a beautiful butterfly, but my wings were crumpled. I couldn’t fly, so I crashed hard. As I lay there flat on my back on the floor, a song played on repeat that I fell in love with while I was gone, Nights in White Satin by the Moody Blues.
Never reaching the end
Letters I’ve written
Never meaning to send
Beauty I’d always missed
With these eyes before
Just what the truth is
I can’t say anymore…
I took one last breath, closed my eyes, and everything faded to black as I went back under the water of my addiction.
Originally written by Jessica for Love and Literature magazine.
To read the previous chapter, chapter 3 click here.
Guest Submission by Cathy Allen, veteran educator.
Audio
In my life, I have believed treat others as you would have them treat you. I spent my life loving others and treating others who I longed for to be there for me, to love me. Somewhere around 2007 2008, my coach said to ‘me, “They are not you.” I stepped back and realized I wanted my students to be those eager to please students that I was in school. I can now see that I was a little girl trying to earn my love. If I worked hard enough, did well enough, I would finally be loved the way I dreamed.
In the past almost 2 years, I have never had someone love me the way I loved because no one I loved was trying to earn my love. They just loved me or they didn’t. It was not about tote boards and or keeping count. Not about reciprocation. I could never earn the love that I was given because love is a choice, not a reward. Read that again, love is not a reward.
You mean, the people in my life love because they want to and not because I support them to a fault, that I gave my body up to have their children, that I am such a great teacher and make math so easy. I can see the narcissism as I right. I can see how egocentric love is in this atmosphere and how abandoned I felt when others did not show up for me. I can see how this adult woman kept giving till she almost died trying to be the woman that would finally be loved or treasured by her children or by her students or by the men in her life.
Ouch- this is such a painful truth to realize. And exhausting! I drank to keep up with the demands of earning love. I drank to manage the anxiety and overwhelm. I drank to deal with the stress of 18 hours days filled with teaching, mothering and girl friending. I didn’t eat to maintain my physical beauty because if I didn’t watch my weight, then I would get fat. And if I got fat, I would not be loved. You mean I had to be a size 10 while I was saving the children of the future and rear my children to be more loved than I was ever loved as a child?
The inescapable truth is that I was always disappointed. My students were pre teen and teenage jerks trying to live their clumsy life and respecting me was not their priority. Doing math – not their priority. I made that about me as their teacher not acknowledging they are in charge of their own choices and they are going to do what they will without thinking about what I want even once. My children were clumsily trying to figure out their own lives and loving me was not their top priority. Read that again, my children’s number one priority is not loving me. It is loving themselves.
That one truth right there – their number one priority is loving themselves. No one ever taught me to do that. Or that loving myself was even a thing. The truth is – if I don’t love myself, I will always be looking to someone else to love me and it was never going to be enough.
My favorite part about my daughter is that she unapologetically will not do anything for others because she is supposed to. She decides each day what her priority is and who she chooses to love. She says no when she can’t show up and be herself and she often leaves places that are not ready to celebrate all of her, even it is my family of origin. She follows through on her commitments, but if you are not someone for whom she greatly loves, it probably won’t happen. And I absolutely love that about her. Yes, it stung as I was healing and there were many times I felt alone. But, I needed to heal myself in the last two years. I was going to heal my heart, not anyone else in my life. That was painful and incredibly lonely. The lonely parts were filled with tears, but I am no longer looking to others to meet my needs. I ask for help when I need it, but I climb into bed knowing I was there to take care of myself today and I will do it for myself tomorrow. I have climbed into bed so many nights wanting someone there to hold me. That is me now. I now treat myself the way I wanted others to. Turns out it was me all along. Sure as hell was never alcohol.
I am a veteran teacher of 23 years and mother of two kids. One is grown and 24 years old, and the other is 14 years old. I got sober on August 11, 2020, after experiencing some scary blackout drunk moments during the pandemic. My anxiety at that point was through the roof, and increased anxiety medication was not helping. Out of desperation, I cut out alcohol. I did this seven days before school started and in August 2020. My first 100 days of sobriety were still filled with anxiety and insomnia. At that point, my body depended on alcohol to do either. It took till about Day 100 for that to begin to resolve. During, that time I got an addiction coach, I started therapy, and I joined the online sobriety community called The Luckiest Club started by Laura McKowen, author of We Are the Luckiest. I began my journey into acknowledging and healing the impact of my childhood trauma and my problematic drinking throughout adulthood. I began understanding the impact of generational trauma and began working to break the cycle. I started an online Facebook group supporting sober teachers because of the prevalence of alcohol offered as the only coping strategy to teachers. I started writing my recovery blog, The Teacher Mom Alcohol Lie in September 2020, and it became a vital tool in my recovery, processing all of my learning and healing. Through this work, I came to understand alcohol use disorder is a trauma response. I came to understand alcohol is an addictive substance and that using alcohol to cope is not a defect. It is a public health crisis in the United States and in the world. Many of the people I support in sobriety have a mother wound, and I’m still healing from mine. I am passionate about helping people shed the stigma of addiction and begin to understand their story of triumph in no longer using alcohol to manage their trauma and anxiety. As trauma and substance use disorder survivors, we are truly the bravest and strongest people I will ever know. I hope to become certified as a peer support person and shift to supporting people in recovery.
