by RE Helper | Jan 15, 2025 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, The First 30, The first Year
Today’s blog entry is from Jamie Riel. Jamie is a member of Café RE Blue.
Hope Rising: The First 30 Days of Sobriety
By: Jamie Riel
The first thirty days of sobriety began where the fifty years of drinking left off. It’s not my first attempt at being sober—far from it! There had been many first days and several short stints with sobriety, but the myth of moderation was powerful – a relentless false god. Of course I can control it. Of course I can drink responsibly.
Of course, I couldn’t.
The last binge began shortly after my wife left for an overnight visit for a baby shower. My moderation plan listed 2 drinks. In retrospect, a 2-drink limit on an overnight alone is downright cute. A sober joke. I mean, I’m staring at hours of blissful alone time. I put up a front of confident self-restraint all morning, even as the tiny voice inside laughs and knows what is to come. By midnight, the counter is littered with empty beer cans, scotch nips, a pinot grigio bottle. Shame rushes in. The self-loathing of failure. The lie is revealed again.
It is time. I haven’t reached bottom because I know I can go deeper and I sense how ugly that would be. This is as deep into the ugly that I dare go!
There is nothing fun about these first 30 days. I constantly vacillate between rising hope, ecstatic relief, and naked fear. Though I am certain sobriety is the right decision, a driving inner force screams there is no way in hell I am going to do this.
Emotions flitter in and out like backyard birds to the feeder.
This is the most surprising element in these first days. I have used alcohol for decades to mask or manipulate my emotions. Now, with the booze gone, they appear at unpredictable times, and engulf me. At times I am overwhelmed with feeling vulnerable. Fragile. Untethered. But, I strive to be more mindful and eventually can watch my emotions pass as clouds in the sky, rather than as storms I need to shelter from or trudge through.
Fear sits on my shoulder every moment, sometimes just quietly resting, sometimes whispering in my ear, sometimes screaming! Fear of drinking again. Fear of not drinking again. Fear that I am actually going to do this! Fear that I can’t! I keep going.
Regret visits me more and more.
The realization that I took my first drink 50 years ago is staggering. The poor decisions I made, the people I hurt, the self-loathing I nurtured that dragged me down during those many years. The time and energy and opportunities squandered. The money wasted. What have I done? Pushing down the regret is like trying to keep water from overflowing from a bucket with my hands.
But there is much relief in letting go of my near constant obsession with planning the drinking day, letting go of the constant schemes of keeping the drinking evidence hidden, the determination to keep the buzz under control. Relief in no more nursing hangovers so I can feel good enough to drink again in the evening. The mornings become heavenly.
I burn ships.
I tell people that I am no longer drinking, but that is not the hard part. The challenge is in sharing the why, and though I don’t need to share that with everyone, I do need to share it with those closest to me. I know it keeps me accountable, that there is now no going back without people noticing. I fear that when I tell them, they will be disgusted with me. They are not. They ask how they can help. They say they admire my decision. My hope rises.
I tell them I am not drinking because I can’t. For me, moderation is a myth. One, two, three drinks is simply never enough. I share that I have been drinking for decades and that it has always been an integral part of my life. I tell them I binge when I am alone:
“Ah, yes, I see,” they say. “I never knew.”
“I know,” I respond. “You weren’t supposed to.”
“Ah,” they say quietly. They smile.
I don’t.
Joy and shame walk this new path hand in hand. There is joy in the realization that I won’t be lying about my drinking anymore, and shame in the amount of lying I have done. The shame is as bright as a desert sun in June, and though I shelter from its powerful heat, it is always there. I realize the impact of adopting honesty with myself and others is a magnificent gift of sobriety, and the fact that I am forgiven for the lies by those who love me is a gift beyond measure. It helps dilute the shame. I begin to forgive myself.
Sobriety is my priority.
I visit the Café RE platform several times a day, attending chats and sharing – though it is scary as hell. The support of these people is amazing! I am not alone. I listen to RE podcasts for the stories of others – “look for the similarities” – and there are many. I read “Quit Lit.” I create and listen to a sobriety playlist.
I develop a Relapse Prevention Plan which proves to be so important. Pushes me to put into words the naked truth about me as a drinker. I read it every 10 days or so as a reminder. I tweak it to make it a truer reflection of my present place and purpose. I share it with my sobriety team. They say they are honored to be there for me. My hope rises.
I talk to my wife every day about how I am doing. Share the darkest secrets. Explain what addiction feels like until she finally realizes that she will never fully understand, and that seems to free her to love and support me even more. I realize how much my actions have hurt her. She has been waiting for the true me for a long time. Maybe our love will grow stronger. My hope rises.
I fight cravings with focus.
Sometimes I write. Sometimes, physical activity like walks and hikes. Work on our land. Listening to podcasts and music. I align the activity with the force of the craving. Deep desires to drink require hikes on forest trails or chopping firewood. The witching hours of 4:00 – 7:00 are never left to chance. RE podcasts, chores, physical and/or mental exertion and focus.
I always loved the ritual of drinking. Creating mocktails in elegant glasses has redefined the ritual and does not trigger me, but rather adds a comfort to my palate and mind. An NA IPA at “beer-o’clock,” an old ritual redesigned for a new life. A dealcoholized cabernet with several splashes of non-alcoholic bitters give it the oaky-edge on the palate. Spritzers of all kinds.
I embrace mindfulness meditation and return to writing to revisit and restore my inner self. I begin building a new life that has no room for alcohol.
I believe that giving up alcohol is not a burden to live with for the rest of my life, but an opportunity to live my life more fully. This focus is my mantra.
I am living under no illusion. Things are getting easier, but the cliff to that ugly bottom is never far away. At this writing I am 60 days in. Sobriety remains a major focus. It will continue to be. It must be. As long as it is, hope rises in me every day.
by RE Helper | Dec 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Inner Peace, Nature
Today’s blog entry is from Hannah J. Carter. Hannah is a member of Café RE Blue.
What You Need Is Around You
By: Hannah J Carter / 10-31-24
We live in the day-and-age of “order this, email that, swipe here, scroll up, notify this, remind me of that, DING, DING, ALERT, ALERT, ALARM, ALARM”. It is all…way too much. It is all…not good for us. Sometimes the more modernized our lives become, the more unpleasant and unsatisfying they become. We find vices when the world becomes all too overwhelming. When we feel like there is no pause button. I drank my troubles away; or so I thought I did.
Do you purchase your issues away? Eat your trauma? Smoke your shame? As a society we look for ways to unplug. We look for the answers to our problems; sometimes desperately. Life at times can feel like we are all swimming to keep our heads above the water line with no land in sight – but why? Why are we, to what seems at times, hopelessly swimming to a shoreline that is never going to come? What you need is already all around you. What you need has been here all along. Sometimes when we sit and look around, the answers come to us. We just need to sit, un-plug, un-send, un-tweet, un-attend, un-wind, and un-human ourselves to see the answers we need are already here.
Life Is A River: Flow or Resist
I don’t have to say it but we all know that life gets well….”Lifey”. At times it feels like we are the universe’s personal joke and when you are already down, you get kicked again for the fun of it. While that may not be a news flash to you, this may be. You get the choice of accepting life or not accepting it; and that choice is only yours to make. That tree limb that fell on your car during that last thunderstorm, will not re-attach itself to the tree if you are angry enough.
Life does not offer a reverse button when our emotions are spiraling. Unfortunately, that is just not a matter of fact. Fortunately, you have the choice to flow with the river of life, like a leaf floating downstream, or resist it, like the lifeless boulders on the river’s edge. We all know the easier option. We all know the option that will help keep us sober. Accept the flow of life and you too will keep moving forward.
Perfectionism Is Overrated
I remember before every social event I would drink. I would drink to feel cooler, to feel more social, to feel more perfect for the party, searching relentlessly for perfectionism with my ex-partner-in-crime, alcohol. Want me to jump ahead and ruin the end of the story for you? Shocker! It didn’t work. It didn’t work for many reasons. Nature reminds us that perfectionism is sinister, it’s overrated.
Perfectionism is a concept that simply does not exist in nature. A tree is never perfectly straight. No leaf mirrors the next. Nothing is perfect yet it’s the most perfect system on this earth. You are whole the way you are. Your “imperfections” are actually your superpowers keeping you closer to the light, letting you absorb more energy, and leaning you towards the right direction. You are enough as is. No drink, no person nor no substance can fill a spot that was never empty to begin with.
Nature Does Not Think Twice, She Knows
As humans we are faced with tough decisions at times. Confusion and worry can fill our headspace causing anxiety, stress, and uncertainty. Deep down we all have the “feeling”. That little voice that wants to force its way from the inside out. That little voice is the collective of your morals, values, and beliefs. Much like the earth, ours are centered deep within us too. What really makes us us, is well, within us.
Again, just as the earth we have layers upon that focused, authentic center. Layers of life experiences, emotions, thoughts, realities, and the rest of this messy, exhilarating journey called being a human. When nature makes a decision, it is based within instinct. A flock does not question the direction it migrates because inside it knows the right answer. A baby bird may falter for its first flight, but it never second guesses the capability of its own wings. When you feel off-centered, lost, or hopeless lean in. Think about and trust what is at the center of yourself; what you know versus what you believe. Deep down you know the right answer, choose it. It is calling loudly for your selection.
Take A Walk Outside With Me
It’s Fall outside. The leaves are turning rainbow colors of light yellow, rose red and burnt orange. Your body is buzzing from the end of a busy day. You can’t seem to feel calm, you can’t seem to gain that sense of peace you felt when you first awoke this morning, you plant your feet, hearing the smashing sounds of gravel and dried leaves under your shoes. A gust of wind rushes through your hair. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. The wind takes your worries and stress away like a thief in the night. Suddenly you notice the sound of a bird calling in the distance. The rustle of a changing season. You can hear the melody of mother nature embracing another chance for a fresh start. Your eyes open and you walk on.
Weaving through the maze of trees, you see glimmers of light jetting through the small spaces in the canopy. Illuminating the color-rich trees like a cathedral’s stained-glass windows on a Sunday morning. You can feel the presence of something bigger than you all around, you soak in the years of wisdom the forest offers, you embrace the quiet, the stillness, the peace. Suddenly, the buzz and chatter that once filled your head is no longer there. A playful squirrel darts across the walking path, bringing a small yet significant smile to your face. You begin to remember the simple pleasures in life. Next, you’re filled with gratitude and peace. All of this from a simple walk? Yes, all of this from a simple walk outside.
Thank You For Reading
These lessons can be received in many different ways. To some this may really hit home. Per say, a light bulb may have gone off above your head. To others the cheesy examples of nature to life lessons can cause an eye roll or two. To that, all I will say is, Fair! Regardless, what I hope you take out of this spiel is that life can be crazy, heavy, and utterly chaotic at times but instead of searching for answers, look around.
Nature teaches us many lessons about the importance of community, learning from growing, acceptance, taking only what you need, being grounded and so much more. Maybe the answers to our answer-less questions are already here? Maybe instead of searching, we need to be listening, instead of drowning ourselves in what the world says will fix our problems, we get back to our roots? We get back to where it began for us all. We get back to nature.
by RE Helper | Aug 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, The first Year, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Jeff Miller. Jeff has been a member of Café RE since March 2024. He can be found on our zoom chats and supporting fellow members of Café RE.
Forever
By: Jeff Miller (Café RE GO)
There I was at 6 years old kneeling next to my bed repeating the same prayer over and over again, “Come into my heart Lord Jesus”. I would say it 10 or 20 times a night until I thought that I had annunciated each word perfectly otherwise it would not be acceptable to God and I would be destined for eternal damnation in outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.
55 years later those same words still echo in my mind.
I was raised in a charismatic Pentecostal church, in a small town where my Sunday school teacher had a captive audience of young boys. We were taught that if we were good and followed all of the rules, we would go to heaven. If we slipped up and sinned we would burn with eternal fire. I was in constant fear of Hell.
I entered into marriage when I was 22 to an 18-year-old girl who met my qualifications. She was pretty, and she went to the same church that I went to. We quickly had a child and my life of being manipulated and controlled by fear continued for 28 years.
One of the only shows that I could watch was 19 Kids and Counting, a reality TV show about a conservative Christian family with 19 children and more on the way. One of their practices was for the boys to not look at girls or women who were immodest. If there was anyone around them when they were out they would call out Nike! Which meant for the boys and Jim Bob, their father, to look at their shoes. My wife adapted this practice and would be constantly saying “Nike! Nike!” And I would have to look down until she said it was clear.
By the time I was in my 40s, my life revolved around discussions about how it is not proper for women to wear pants and, God forbid, bathing suits. By then, my daughter was in college. I was not only trying to defend myself but also her and the decisions that she was making as an adult. I recently read the book by Jill Duggar, Counting The Cost, which opened my eyes and brought my life of religious trauma rushing back.
In 2012, I finally filed for divorce.
I believed in my heart that I was making a decision that would lead me to an eternity in hell with no possibility of any reconciliation with God. This was an extremely difficult thing for me to live with. So I decided to relieve my guilt and shame with alcohol; after all, I was going to burn anyway. I never was a normal drinker.
I quickly began drinking a six-pack a day on the way home from work. Then I would hit the bars on weekends, including Friday Jr. I was often really hungover for work on Friday and Monday. At the height or depth of my drinking, I was spending over $500 per week on alcohol. Not including my generous tipping. Despite my drinking habits, I was blessed to meet the love of my life. We spent a substantial amount of time drinking together, but as you will see, our relationship was much more than drinking. After 2 years together, we were married.
Flash forward to Sept 7, 2023, and I’m meeting my CPA and my banker for drinks at lunch.
We drank a couple of bottles of wine and then departed back to our offices for work. Except I didn’t go back to my office. I went to a little craft beer place that was just across the street and had 3 or 4 beers. I got in my car and texted my wife that I was on my way home. About 30 miles from home, there is a little highway dive bar that I liked to sing Karaoke at. I thought I could squeeze in a couple of drinks and a song before continuing home. You would think that this was enough but nooo. I then drove another 10 miles and saw a Casino that I had never been to before. And decided what the fuck! I’m going to hell anyway.
At some point, I was outside of my body, watching myself. It was so strange.
I was buying drinks for complete strangers and throwing money around like I was Elon Musk. I somehow got hooked up with a woman that I had never met before and found myself checking into the hotel with her. I had never done anything like that before, and retrospectively, it cuts me to the core. I honestly don’t know what happened after that. It was 5 AM the next day. I was sitting in my car in the garage at home, not knowing how I got there. I was still drunk. Apparently, I had made a 20-mile drive on a very dangerous mountain road in a complete blackout.
My wife had moved into the guest house and cut off all communication. I went into the house, took a shower, and headed to an early breakfast with 2 bottles of Prosecco. I staggered into the winery around midday, making up all kinds of lies to explain my meltdown. I texted a friend to meet me. I ended up destroying my relationship with him and others before getting in my truck and driving home.
I woke up the next morning to the absence of my wife and a pounding headache.
I had betrayed my wife and my 17-year-old daughter in the deepest way. It made me sick to tell her the whole story, but I did. At that point, I didn’t know if she or my daughter would ever take me back. I spent the rest of that day trying to do damage control with those in town who had talked to me the night before.
My first step after that was to stop drinking for a while. At least long enough to try and repair the damage done to my family. My wife, who also had been struggling with alcohol, had several quit-lit books on Audible, so I started with Laura McKowen’s We Are the Luckiest and listened to it straight through. After completing the book I began to consider that I might have a problem with alcohol. Duh!
As the days passed and my wife and daughter were nowhere near reconciliation I had to do some real deep introspection. The days were hard. I was sweating and shaking. I could hardly get a glass of water or coffee to my mouth without holding it with both hands. I was experiencing uncontrollable head tremors and was extremely agitated and anxious. My only concern was that I could lose the most important people in my life. I was just stumbling through my days, dizzy and disoriented. That is when I had the thought that stopping for a while wasn’t enough.
It had to be FOREVER! SHIT!
I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that! But telling them that I was going to quit drinking for a while was like telling them that I wouldn’t hurt them again for a while. So, on my way home from work, I picked up a lot of poster board, and in Love Actually style, I wrote out my apologies and promises. One for my daughter and one for my wife. It had been 10 days and I don’t know if I was sick from alcohol withdrawals or missing them. They were still not speaking to me. I texted both of them and asked them to please meet me at the large glass doors at the back of the guest house.
I didn’t know if they would.
I prayed to a God that I had failed and whose judgment and wrath awaited me —please, God, If you still hear me, please help me with this. Help them with this. Please show me the way. I rounded the corner to the large glass doors and saw them both sitting attentively on the edge of the bed. With tears in my eyes, the same way that they are right now as I write this, I started the cards with my daughter first. On one of the cards it said I PROMISE TO STOP DRINKING and the next card said FOREVER.
Then I did the cards that I designed for my wife containing the same words. I PROMISE TO STOP DRINKING FOREVER. Broken, I could hardly stay on my feet. As I walked away I could see a flicker of hope in their eyes and even a bit of a smile. My last card for each of them. I LOVE YOU!
Soon after, my wife was back in the house, and she let me know that she had decided to quit alcohol forever also.
So we began our new journey together by getting an online sobriety coach, Teri Patterson, who really helped us and got me through some really tough days. We both started reading a lot of “quit” lit, and each of us found Recovery groups. Mine is Recovery Elevator / Café RE and hers is Write Back to You by Meg Geisewite, author of Intoxicating Lies, One Woman’s Journey to Freedom from Gray Area Drinking.
The RE podcasts were incredible and the stories there gave me hope. I went back to the first one and started listening straight through. Then I discovered Café RE where I signed up and began listening in on the morning chats every day. Even though I haven’t spoken yet because I am at the gym at 5 AM I still am beginning to feel like these people are my family.
Rebuilding my life required me to get to the root of the whys of my life. Why I started drinking and why I stopped.
I started talking to a therapist who happened to be an AA Sponsor and has been sober for 20 years. I’m starting to think that God might still hear me and that he might still love me.
Another big part of my recovery is meditation. I couldn’t even imagine that I would or could actually meditate, but thanks to a book by Dan Harris, Meditation for Fidgety Skeptics: a 10% Happier How to Book. I got started doing just 2 minutes a day, now I am doing close to 20 because it is part of the foundation that gives me peace throughout my days.
I am seeing everything more clearly. Finally dealing with all of the things that I was avoiding with alcohol, and it is hard. I really felt like shit for the first few months, but now the dark clouds are beginning to lift, and I am building hope and peace. I am accepting that God still loves me and hears me when I talk to him. I am softening my religious rigidness and know that I am a work in progress. I am more accepting of others and their beliefs.
Sometimes, I still battle my condemnation and my desire to drink it away. I then have to make myself go back and remember that God never left me, and the ones that I love the most took me back.
Saying forever seems like a lot to live up to, but for me, saying forever makes one day at a time possible.
by RE Helper | Jul 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Kristie K. Kristie has been a member of Café RE since December 31, 2019. She can be found supporting her fellow Café RE GO members and hosting our Café RE chats.
Not Much Can Grow in the Dark
By: Kristie K. (Café RE GO)
1.12.24
During these Winter months night time darkness cuts the daylight dramatically. The short days are gray and cold. Darkness when I wake. Darkness when I sleep. I can not change these things of nature but I can change myself and my perspective. I knew the darkness of nature was coming, so I mentally prepared and took action in writing this.
When I was drinking, many of my days were dark. My world was dark. My soul was dark.
There was not much to look forward to other than the next drink. It was a cycle of wanting and needing the next drink. I drank the dark. The world was heavy and dark as I attempted to do everything for the good of the family, community or students. My life was a daily grind filled with to dos, lists and tasks. Always in a rush, I gave of myself, my time and my energy. No self. Instead of breathing, I was drinking. I rarely took a moment to breathe. I neglected myself, forgot who I was and slowly I began to die within. The darkness grew.
Funny thing about the darkness of addiction, it only let me see what it wanted me to see and not my true reality.
My perception was framed by an addiction black bubble that protected itself and forced me to keep it alive. As the addiction grew, so did the black bubble. It darkened and blacked out people, activities, opportunities and the joy from my life. At the center of this bubble was loneliness, anxiety, depression, self loathing and an empty bottle. Others did not see this because I was busy pleasing them. I was helping, offering, volunteering, coaching, fundraising and performing as your classic high functioning addict…another darkness strategy.
Now, I spend every morning with myself.
I write, read and reflect. I spend about 30 minutes alone in the morning with myself and myself only. My daily intention is to connect with the light. The light that is constant, warm and wraps me in love. This connection grounds me in values, principles and love. This connection helps me see how life is working for me and I have much to be grateful. This light reminds me that I have light within me through strengths, skills and talents. I can use these to create more love, kindness and goodness into the world. The light is constant, warm and bright.
With this daily practice, I was and still able to face the darkness. I was able to face my addiction through this daily practice by finally taking action after many years of denial. I started to listen to podcasts and read about alcohol. After about a year of journaling, I joined Cafe RE and attended my first AA meeting.
Darkness is part of life. Darkness is natural and will continue to be a part of life. Addiction showed me darkness and provided me light, love, friends, peace and a return to self. Mother Nature provides me darkness, to retreat and rest so I can renew within. I accept and respect the darkness. Not much can grow in the dark…so I chose to seek the light. Will you join me?
Surise on ?
Kristie
by RE Helper | Jun 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Justine. Justine has been a member of Café RE since November 2023. She can be found supporting her fellow Café RE UP members and on the Café RE chats.
Sobriety, Stigmas and Smiles
By: Justine (Café RE UP)
As I sit here today, I am 2 years and 11 months sober. A few months ago, I decided to tackle the daunting task of beginning to date again. As if dating in your thirties isn’t hard enough, I am one of the chosen ones who must add “alcoholic” to my resume. I know some people choose not to embrace that label. When I first started my sober journey, I wouldn’t be caught dead calling myself an alcoholic.
But where I stand today, I say it purposefully.
I want anyone I tell that to to know that if they ever see me drinking, there is a serious problem.
Just another way to keep myself accountable.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, when I decided to date, I knew that I would have to share the part of my past I so desire to change, my alcoholism. It is something I bring up in the first conversation. I began seeing someone exclusively for the past five weeks. A few days ago, he let me know that he could no longer do it because it weighed too heavily on his mind to know that if I were to relapse, he could never support me through it. Phew! As an outsider, you’re probably thinking I dodged a bullet. And deep down, I know that I did.
Here is the thing. My first reaction was that of sickness. What a punch to the gut to know that something I have worked so hard to change about myself can STILL stand in the way of my happiness. For the last 1,072 days, I have woken up and made the incredibly difficult choice to remain sober.
If I could go back and re-write my past, I would do it in a heartbeat; But I can’t. My past is the one thing I will never be able to change. This experience served to remind me that the stigma of alcoholism still exists so prevalently in our society. It felt like someone was telling me that I will forever be undeserving of (their) love because I am an alcoholic. That no matter the length of time I have away from the bottle, there will always be someone there to remind me, “But hey, you might relapse.”
I’ve been reflecting a lot on coming up on three years of sustained sobriety. I’ve shared in a few evening groups about how difficult it feels to have achieved so little in what seems like so much time. In the Café RE community chat today, I listened while others reflected on change within sobriety. I changed a lot in the beginning. My appearance, my career, my location. Still, I am not where I want to be. The truth of the matter is, it took me more than a decade to ruin these parts of my life. So, I’m not sure why I have the audacity to think I can rebuild it in just three short years.
Instead of dwelling on what I don’t yet have, I started to reflect on what I do have.
- I have two sisters who love and support me unconditionally, who understand and are always willing to lend an ear.
- I have my health and the ability to run long distances with relative ease.
- I have perspective on my problems.
- I have coping mechanisms other than alcohol to deal with those problems.
- I have the ability to be present in the moment and a proper role model for my nieces.
- I have two fur babies who provide me with the most comfort I have ever felt.
- I have a job that pays me.
- I have a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear and the ability to order off Amazon a few too many times per month.
I have my personality and most importantly, I have my smile back.
In active addiction, I did not have many of those things I just mentioned. When I write it all out, how foolish it is to think that I haven’t achieved much in sobriety! Here is my reminder to you. If you are struggling with the “why” and want to take the easy way out, write down all the things you might lose again. Despite not yet being completely “fixed”, I would never in a million years wish to go back to my old life. I want to take a second to thank everyone in the Recovery Elevator community for being a part of my journey. At the beginning, I was most definitely a dry drunk.
If I could start over and do one thing differently, it would have been to join a community sooner. What great perspectives I gain every day from every single share. Here’s to many more years of sobriety and smiles.
by RE Helper | May 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Johanna C. Johanna has been a member of Café RE since September 2023. Sha has been an active and supportive member of her Café RE Blue group and our Café RE chats!
Playing The Tape Forward: A Foundation For My Sobriety
By: Johanna C. (Café RE Blue)
Through the course of a sobriety journey, we’ve become accustomed to the concept of building a tool kit. Stacking together concepts, ideas, and ways of coping that don’t include alcohol as a way to navigate to a better life and get closer to our true selves.
There are sobriety phrases, some albeit corny or even annoying.
For me, it’s the “grateful alcoholic” identity (ps I am getting comfortable with the word grateful as it relates to my sobriety journey). There may be one (or more) that are uncomfortable or downright piss you off. One concept that I learned from Paul & the Recovery Elevator POD, that still to this day, 3 months in (today, November 18th), on an extended 3+year effort towards an AF life, is playing the tape forward. Episode 356: Play the Tape Forward.
It’s not so much a phrase, but a tool, a strategy.
A mechanism through which we can move through our addiction and keep saying YES to an AF life. Despite our time away from alcohol, there are moments or even extended periods of time when we feel like a life with alcohol isn’t so bad, that we can moderate. The fear of missing out is too great and the loss of that idealistic, glamorized life with a fancy glass of wine, a craft beer or a seductive cocktail with fancy elixirs mixed in, is what we want. It’s what we think we need to be complete.
Or when the stress and sadness are too much, and we want to retreat into our safe space of numbing, alcohol is ready to accept that familiar role. The reality is, that space is not safe. There is no trust. It’s downright dangerous.
And for those of us who have taken a step into the other side, regardless of sobriety time, see it. And the challenge now is to make it stick somehow. So…when we play the tape forward of what that life was like, it’s meant to stop us in our tracks and remember. Remember that all too familiar audio and visual representation of who we are when we’re drinking. The choices I made, the sick feeling I would feel, the events I would miss, the friends I would disappoint, the depression that would consume me – the list goes on.
When we’re in it, we can’t see it.
Of course, we experience and feel the booming headaches, the continuous, all-day nausea, the puffy face, the bloodshot eyes, the inner shame and fuzzy recollections of what occurred the night(s) prior. I’ve come to realize, there is a strong sense of culture that paints that picture as an expected way of life.
That it’s somehow funny to blackout.
Waking up not knowing what you did last night and that when we promise we’ll never drink again, it’s quite fine when we reach for the wine and wine glass the next weekend when happy hour hits. Social media is a breeding ground for insidious shit like that. We feel all of it and it sucks. But in the depths of alcohol and its tendrils that permeate every part of our being, when we’re using, it prevents any of us from seeing the other side. I’ve learned, in many ways, it’s chemically impossible.
What playing the tape forward does is remind me. It grounds me. It calms me, in some way. For some, it terrifies them. It terrified me early on. It felt like there was too much to lose.
Some of us feel like we would let our communities down.
And now, after joining Cafe RE and participating actively for the last 2 months (I’m a newbie), in chats and outreaches to those who’ve lent a hand, I look at it this way: if I decide that drinking is most important now, as these feelings of re-inclusion come over me from time to time, then what does that mean? What do I have to give up? Who am I then?
It means that I will not and cannot live authentically every moment of every day.
That in a blink of a notice, if someone needs me, and I am drunk or drinking, I won’t be fully present. Even though I may want to. It means that at some point, eventually, one glass will turn into bottles. This will lead to paralyzing depression and anxiety, leaving me wondering, “How did I get here.”
When we play the tape forward, we see the life we left. We get the opportunity to choose an alcohol-free life every time. A life of freedom and rid of the toxicity that drives us further and further away from who we really are.
Before I say this, please know that I am in no way suggesting to experiment. The 8 months of “field research” that I engaged in after 1.5 years of sobriety in led me to the familiar line, “how did I get here (again)”. It has taught me that it WILL eventually return to that point. It took some time, but I had reached that point, again, amidst a tragic loss.
Alcohol fades our memories.
It dulls our feelings, loves us to live in gray versus technicolor. It feeds on us living in a depressive state. And that, I know (and we all know) is an indisputable fact. As I write this, I tear up with emotion. Reflecting on this 3+ year journey and the lessons it has allowed me to learn. The space for me to, for the first time in my adult life, truly decide how I want to live. And most importantly why I want to live that way.
I recently took advice from Laura McKowen, from her latest book ‘Push Off From Here.’
She writes about a practice she learned in therapy, a form of written visualization, where you play two different tapes forward (hmm… I thought there was only one…). Laura explains that you are to imagine a scenario where you would anticipate feeling that without alcohol/drinking, it would be incomplete, not fun, boring etc.
Then, with as much detail as possible, write each scenario out one at a time: one where you’re drinking as you would and one where you aren’t. Page 93 in Push Off From Here.
I chose Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Holy Shit was that wild.
When I was drinking, those two days were ones that I would always regret, year in and year out. My first sober Christmas Eve and Day – a true milestone. A moment I will always include in my preferred tape forward. Through this exercise, I was able to reflect on the tape that illustrates my life as an anxiety-ridden, unpredictable and obsessive drinker. And then one where I am a present, joyful, thankful and gracious person. One who loves spending time with their family during the holidays and cooking delicious meals, despite the stress it sometimes brings on.
Writing it out, playing both tapes forward, as plain as day on paper, did wonderful things. It caused some things to shift. Mostly, it made space for me to be proud of the choice I’ve made to stay alcohol-free today. It reminds me of the gifts it gives me each moment. It empowers me to warrior on, closer to the person I already am.
By Johanna C, 3 months sober (at the time of writing), most recent sober date August 18th, 2023. First ever sober date was June 22, 2020, a date I am proud of as well. I’ve been a member of Cafe RE since September 18th 2023. That day was the day when I decided not to try sobriety alone ?
