6 Months Sober.

Monday will be 6 months of complete sobriety by me. Absolutely nothing. No taste; no one sips; no ‘just one’ drink; no few drinks with friends; no bottle’s of wine to myself; no 18 beers and blackout; nothing.

I am happy for myself here. 6 months is a big period, it’s a lot when starting or stopping any habit. By this time, new rhythms, have been created and, the draw or desire to drink comes and goes, but it’s not a constant draw or temptation.

This is not my first time being 6 months sober. It’s my 3rd or 4th time. There is part of me, something inside of me that says I shouldn’t share this, that I’m a failure because I didn’t stay sober the 2nd or 3rd time, and I should just keep this to myself. But…

I’m not going to, because there is power in sharing this. It’s not some macho, “I don’t care what others think,” It’s that I just care for myself, and the ability to help someone, more than another’s opinion of me. By sharing, I hope someone else can connect and it helps with their own path.

Drinking Is Fun. Until It Isn’t.

Alcohol, for me has seemed to be wonderful. It has helped create some amusing stories, has been the prompt to some late-night adventures, and I thought at first, helped me be, well… more me.

My first experience with alcohol was in high school. I was probably 15 or 16 years old. I drank captain and coke, bonged a beer, and took a shot of vodka. That night was a blast and loved all of it: the lower inhibitions, the loud music, the hanging with friends. I thought I had found ‘my thing.’

From that weekend and until my early twenties, it was much of the same. People and places changed, but my habit, and desire to find a buzz stayed steady.

Am I an Alcoholic?

By the time I was 25, I had developed a solid reputation for being a partier. A guy that would always say yes to a drink, and then see where it went from there. I saw everything as an opportunity to drink. In my group, it was acceptable to put back 6–8 drinks a night, (big nights for me would be anything over 18). It was fun in those moments, but I continued to find myself waking up the next morning, saying I was not going to do that again.

So I tried to limit my drinking. In high school, I didn’t seem to mind how much I drank or what I did, but now I had a real job, was becoming an adult, and didn’t feel in control.

Every once in a while, while drinking, things would go south. Stories involving police officers, fights, hospitals, and other problems would happen and shift the direction of my life. I also felt this constant unease and low-numbing depression and frustration most days. I wondered — “Was this time too much? Maybe I need to drink less?”

I had tried things like; only drinking beers, only drinking on the weekends, only having one drink, buying only top shelf liquor — thinking these could help ‘control’ my drinking. It would work for a day, a week or maybe ten days, but soon enough, I would find myself in the same spot. Feeling like I had no control. I wanted to drink less but I wasn’t.

At the time, I had heard of alcohol anonymous as a popular culture reference and seen these type of group meetings, play out in movies, but I was unaware of what it was.

After a weekend extravaganza of being handcuffed in a police cruiser, trying to start a fight in a bar, and ending with getting naked and locking myself in my in-laws’ bathrooms, I thought maybe it was time for a change. I felt physically sick, but also spiritually and emotionally I was spent. I didn’t know what to do. Every part of me wanted to be better and do better. I had this terrible pain in my body and mind, knowing I was capable and made for more, but continued to choose a lower path. That had me feeling stuck, with no purpose. Alcohol seemed to be my main culprit, and it had to stop.

AA

So that Monday night, I googled Alcohol Anonymous, and found myself in an auxiliary church building, for my first AA Mtg. At first, I thought AA was about how to control your drinking. To my inexperiance, it was about learning how to have a few drinks; a how-to ‘drink more responsibly’ kind of course. I couldn’t even fathom complete sobriety. No drinking at all. That was crazy to me. I didn’t even know someone sober — not one single person.

In this room of 20 people, I was not alone. These people had similar stories, they had these same struggles. When they shared stories of their drinking, it sounded very similar. This wasn’t surface level stuff either; these people were going deep and intimate with the group.

Being 25 years old, I was by far the youngest in the room, but to my advantage, I saw my path laid out in front of me if I continued my drinking. I could see my future; arrest, divorce, losing connections with children, losing jobs, and rehab. I was newly married and my wife, Alexis, was pregnant with our first child. I was terrified of going down that path.

That fear drew me close to AA. For the next 90 days, I attended a meeting every day, even as my work took me out of town for several trips. I was amazed all across the country, from Fort Wayne, Indiana; to Knoxville, Tennessee; to San Antonio, Texas there was this group meeting at all times of day, in all sorts of buildings. Even though I was walking into a meeting in an entirely different city, it felt comfortable and similar. Here were people that had felt the control of alcohol and wanted to be free.

As I went to more meetings, I realized alcohol issues were not only for the guy who lives under the bridge, who is sipping whiskey from a brown paper bag (I met him too though). While in AA I was blown away by the people who were also involved. People who were working to stay sober through weddings, a holiday party, and trying to rekindle relationships that had been broken. Alcohol seemed to be not discriminatory to anyone; either by age, skin, sex, or status. It was and still is the most diverse, and eclectic group of people, I have ever been around.

In our town, there are meetings in some run down shackles of buildings, at the VA, many churches, in halfway houses, and an off the posted schedule meeting in the conference room of a prominent attorney downtown. You literally walk past the secretary and let her know you are there for the meeting.

Getting Sober

For the next 2 1/2 years, I was sober. 100% sober. I worked the steps in AA, had a sponsor, went to meetings regularly, and my life changed dramatically. There had been some emotional and spiritual growth that had been delayed from my alcohol abuse, and I grew on a whole new level during this period, in my self-awareness, and ability to just navigate the ups and down’s of life.

Before sobriety, I celebrated with alcohol, and I mourned with alcohol. I never learned to feel and embody my own emotions. No matter what strong emotional response I would encounter in life, previously I would not experience that fully, but always either numb or enhance with alcohol. At 25, I felt like I was emotionally starting over as a 16-year-old, and working through becoming an adult.

All Better Now

Things we so good in fact that I figured after that 2 1/2 years my alcohol stuff was cured. I was 27 now. Many people have stories, of being college-aged, drinking too much, and dealing with hangovers. I figured with all I knew now, in all my experiences, I could handle alcohol responsibly; I could now take it or leave it.

So I tried it again; and it worked, I had a few drinks here and there, enjoyed that slight buzz, and then would switch to water and call it a night. Or maybe I could have a beer with lunch, then let it go and get back to my day.

I was an adult now. My career was going well. I was married, had a child, and another one on the way. On all accounts, it seemed like ‘I had my stuff together.’ People that met me recently would be hard pressed to believe stories of my younger 20’s.

These light drinking excisions went well… until they didn’t. Those feelings of regret and shame would appear when I would wake up the next day and wish I would’nt of had those drinks when I said I was not going too. Or, when I would need to nurse a headache the next morning, and couldn’t produce my best work. That feeling of not being my best was much more subtle than before, but it was there, always reminding me, I was choosing a less-than my best path.

So I quit again. This time I think for a year, and then tried drinking again — this time with another year of self-reflection. I thought I had it figured out. Until a few months in I found myself in the same situation.

The Next 4 Years

For the next 4 years, it was much of the same. Light drinking followed by 3, 6, or 9 months periods of sobriety, and then try drinking again. I was not drinking much, just a few drinks around family, friends, or on a Friday night while Alexis and I would watch a movie or sit outside.

By this time, I had too many responsibilities in my life, to drink too much. Kids at home, responsibilities all around me, and the idea of getting drunk was far away. I would have a few and head to bed — a socially responsible user of alcohol by any outside spectator.

But there was a battle inside of me, and it felt like I was losing.

The mental capacity to limit my drinking; the slight slowness I felt the day after; the increase of aggressiveness, or impulsiveness I felt when I was drinking. It all seemed to go away during periods of sobriety.

For me, sobriety felt so good. Emotional, physically, and spiritually there were these subtle betterments of everything, and when I would drink; even just a few, it felt like I pushed pause on my progress.

It’s My Choice

The first time I chose sobriety in 2012, it was after a terrible weekend binge. Cops, fighting, nakedness, blacking out. I could not physically move the Sunday after. My body was such a wreck. It’s like my only choice was sobriety.

The last time I had a drink was 6 months ago. I made myself a Vodka-Kombucha and watched a documentary in my living room once my boys went to bed — waking up the next morning early to read and write. I didn’t even seem to skip a beat. By all accounts, a typical, healthy, socially responsible drinking experience.

But for me, it was much the same. I felt that alcohol had a hold on my life; more than I wanted to give away.

Maybe it’s from the way I have acted in the past — the choices I have made that have hurt so many people. Maybe AA has brainwashed me never to be able to enjoy a drink again. I don’t know why I feel this way.

I still have this ideal of sharing a bottle of wine with Alexis on vacation or having a beer with guys from work after a successful project, but for me, I don’t know if that will happen.

The Path Forward

For all the inconsistency alcohol has brought to my life, there has been a consistent pattern in how it makes me feel. A slight feel-good -fun, followed by an “I wish I wouldn’t have done that.”

Is life without alcohol so bad, after all? Sobriety always makes my life better. Am I afraid of how good it can be? Can I stay sober this time? My 3rd or 4th time hitting 6 months……I don’t know.

What I do know is that just one-time drinking, one decision under the influence, could either dramatically shift my life, or always have me thinking ‘Did I give my best here?’, and I don’t know if chasing that feeling of a buzz is worth it, at least not for me; not for today.

Maybe I am not alone here. It seems we all have some sort of battle inside of us. That subtleness of what we can be, what we were made for. When we become quiet and listen, we know what to do deep in our heart, but sometimes our actions can pull us further from that truth, rather than closer.

Instead of making big promises or commitments; I’m going to try to give all of myself to my purpose and those around me, and take it one day at a time. If you want to win that battle, for whatever you might be struggling with, I hope you do too.

Our stories don’t have to be one of struggle, it can be one of surrdener. A surrender that leads to victory.

Here’s to your journey.