Listen for the Similarities, not the Differences

Obviously, a guy who rode a tricycle to a detox is an addict.
Clearly, the chick whose daughter caught her passed out in a car from an overdose has a problem. 
And the veteran who downs a fifth every single day needs some help.

...but me? I'm just a lonely 20-something who drinks when she's bored, alone, angry, sad, scared, happy, or for absolutely no reason at all. 

I've never killed anyone in a drunk driving accident.
I've never experienced homelessness. 
I've never even been arrested. 

How could I possibly be an alcoholic? 

In my first week of rehab, I struggled with this issue. Heavily. 

One night a fellow came to the treatment center to run one of our sessions. He was about my age, somewhere in his 20s, although maybe still a few years older than me. At the beginning, he told us about his experiences and I was dumb-struck. This clean-cut, very UC Berkeley looking, guy had been a high-rolling drug dealer before I had even finished college, 

Then he said something that really resonated with me. 

"I realized that if I wasn't an alcoholic, quitting drinking wouldn't matter to me. If someone told me today I couldn't eat pretzels the rest of my life, I'd be disappointed but I'd be like, 'Ok-whatever.' and move on... But alcohol... No it's too important to me. And that right there, is the moment I realized I was an alcoholic."

Just the thought of never drinking again made my heart race, and I identified with that part of his story. 

After that session I was done for the evening and was free to do what I wanted (within house rules of course). So I retreated to my dorm room with my notebook and journal to do the only logical thing I do when weighing a decision: to make a list. 

I created a simple table with two columns in my composition notebook. I labelled the left side "Reasons I'm NOT an alcoholic" and the right side "Reasons I AM an alcoholic" 

Then I spent the next 15-20 minutes just writing things down on either side of the list. For the right side, I consulted my notes and handouts from the previous seven days of group therapy and one-on-one sessions. 

Very quickly I realized that my lists were completely imbalanced. The reasons I thought I was not an alcoholic were weak...

"So-and-so doesn't think I'm an alcoholic."
"There's that one time I only had one drink all night."

...and worthless when compared to the reasons I was an alcoholic.

"It takes more than three drinks to get me buzzed and I have no idea how many get me drunk."
"I kept drinking even though I didn't want to."

and most importantly...

"Once I start drinking I cannot reliably predict what will happen or what I will do."

Until that night, I had been listening to peoples' stories all wrong. I heard the WHO, WHAT, WHEN, and WHERE of their drinking and using stories - but I was not listening to WHY or the HOW... you know, the really good parts. 

I heard the differences in our stories - not the similarities. 

I don't know that guy's name, where he's from or even if he's still clean and sober - but he made a difference in my life that night. And for that, I'm eternally grateful. 

What I was like

“How does someone like you become an alcoholic?”

Growing up I was warned about the dangers of alcohol, but I also believed the lies of addiction.  Alcoholics were supposedly weak, unintelligent, and lazy people. Those words didn’t describe me, so I thought it could never happen to me.

How Alcoholism Begins

The first time I drank, I did it to stop people from calling me a “goody-two-shoes”.  The drink was a Southern Comfort and Cola mix. I wasn’t impressed, but drank it anyway and didn’t get drunk.

After a few parties I realized how wonderful alcohol was. It relaxed me, making me feel socially invincible.  I relished the unfamiliar sensation of confidence and casually sought drinks at every opportunity.

From the beginning alcohol caused me to act out of character and I often had regrets. Yet it never occurred to me that I could just not drink. I always thought, “I’ll do better next time.” It would be years before someone would tell me that mindset is a trademark characteristic of alcoholics… “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

What Alcoholism Feels Like

Have you ever gone on a roller coaster and instantly regretted it? You change your mind just as the ride begins and it cannot be stopped.

That’s what my drinking was like.

I drank to manage stress. I drank to manipulate others.  I drank to change my personality.  I drank to get drunk.  I drank to forget. I drank. I drank. I drank. My alcoholism was characteristic of my environment.  An officer in the U.S. Coast Guard, I embodied the stereotypical sailor: drunk in port, hung-over at sea, and cursing in between. Binge drinking and blackouts were my motto, and if you couldn’t keep pace with me, I didn’t want to hang with you.

Not all alcoholics are binge drinkers, just like not all musical instruments are made of brass. We have different habits, favorite watering holes, family baggage, and psychiatric conditions. But we do have one thing in common. We are powerless over our drinking once it starts… just like the terrified roller coaster passenger.

The Desperation to Get Sober

As any therapist or addiction specialist will tell you, and addict has to want to get sober in order for treatment to do them any immediate good. If they're not desperate for change, the information gets tucked away in the back of their mind - and saved for a truly desperate moment.

At the end of my drinking, I didn’t want to get sober but I didn’t want to keep living either. When I was awake I wanted to die, and when I was drunk I was out of control. The combination terrified me. I couldn’t understand my feelings because I knew deep down that I didn’t want to die.

My life was saved because I voiced these feelings. The Coast Guard placed me in psychiatric care. My mother and sisters flew 3,000 miles … Dad would check on me a few months later. 

While in the hospital being treated for depression, a therapist interviewed me. She asked if I was willing to do anything it took to change the way I felt. I said yes. She prober further adding, “Even if that means not taking another drink for the rest of your life?”

And I said, “Yes.”

Are you lookin' at me?!

I once had a job where I felt like my boss was always talking down to me. He'd start all meetings with what felt like a grade-school  level summary about why we were there. Every facet was described in painstakingly explicit detail. 15 minutes later...or something like that... we'd actually get started.

One day, I complained about this to a co-worker. His response was, 

"Becky, did it ever occur to you that he does that for himself, and it has absolutely nothing to do with his opinion of you?"

No, of course it hadn't. 

It felt like such an obvious and egregious offense toward me, specifically.  He was treating me as a child for a reason. I was so caught up in these judgments that I failed to consider what other reasons he might have for speaking on such basic terms. 

So...it's not about me. Hmm. That's something new. 

This was not my first realization that I had a tendency to be selfish, although I've not ever been selfish in the same way most people generally think of that personality flaw. 

Remember, selfishness and self-pity are opposite sides of the same coin. 

I'm selfish because I naturally gravitate towards negative self-thinking. On a basic level, I think of myself as an annoying, awkward, unlikable person whom other people merely tolerate. As a result, I always assume that people's frowns, bad attitudes, or general disposition has something to do with me. In doing this, I allow my judgments about myself to influence my relationships with other people. 

Basically, I usually assume other people's thoughts, actions, and words revolve around me.
Which is totally self-centered and not true, btw. Most people are in fact thinking about themselves.  All the time.

So, to maintain my sanity, and adjunctly my sobriety, I have to find a way out of this selfish thought pattern. 

To do that, I have to establish a new thought pattern.

Today, I am choosing to not let that happen. 

Today, I choose to be happy with who I am. 

Today, I do not assume that other people are thinking about me. 

Today, I accept that other people's moods have nothing to do with me.

Today, I realize that other people's opinions of me are none of my business, OR my responsibility.  

Today, I am grateful for my sobriety. 

Today, I am overwhelmed with love from the community of sober friends surrounding me.

Today, I see beauty and synchronicity in all areas of my life.

There. That should do it! ... for today.

The Missing Piece of my Heart

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with the notion of love.  

For reasons unbeknownst to me, I always thought that it had to be earned. So when my parents said, "We're so proud of you - you did a great job," or, "I love you, honey," I didn't believe them. More often than not, my response was "You have to say that, you're my parents."

It breaks my heart today to imagine how that must have hurt them. And in truth, it hurt me too.  I rejected their love and attention because I didn't feel that I deserved it and consequently reinforced my low self-esteem.

As a teenager, this lack of self-love manifested itself in many ways:

1. social anxiety
2. fear of flirting or dating
3. self-deprecating thoughts and words
4. depression
5. suicidal ideations
6. lack of genuine or heart-felt relationships
7. fierce independence
8. stubbornness
9. determination
10. judgement - of myself and others
11. isolation
12. diminished spirituality
13. anger and hate
14. impatience
15. restlessness

I was missing a piece of my heart...the piece that showed showed me how to love, appreciate, and accept myself.

When I started drinking, I forgot about the piece of my heart that was missing. Suddenly, I was cool, funny, happy, and relaxed. I didn't care what other people thought of me and I felt liberated.

But it didn't last long.

After a short while, I began to binge drink. Drinking any amount lowers your inhibitions, and binge consumption lowers them even more. I started to say and do things I'd never do sober. First, it was just minor stuff like swearing or ranting angrily about various issues. Then, as my tolerance grew and I drank more, my actions became more unpredictable. I drove drunk. I physically attacked people. I slept around. I ignored rules left and right and gave myself excuses.  

Nights out were immediately and invariably followed by emotionally painful days. They were so painful that I often drank to forget the things I did. 

And so the vicious cycle began:

I drank to forget the hole in my heart.  

The more I drank, the bigger hole became.

The bigger the hole, the more I had to drink to fill it up.

By the time I got into rehab, the hole felt like a canyon...a seemingly endless crevice in my soul that could never be made whole again.

A counselor at the treatment center tasked me with journaling for 5 minutes a day on something that I loved about myself. After day 1, all of my topics came from the suggestions of other clients. It took a long time, but this exercise started to change the way I saw myself. 

What helped me the most was actually a process very similar to a Catholic confession. I was open and honest with another (sober) person about what happened while I was drinking. I told her specific stories and we looked for times when I was being selfish or self-seeking. 

You might think that this process would only make me hate myself more. Yes, I hated the things I had done. I was ashamed and embarrassed, but that was only a temporary pain. Talking with a trusted friend actually normalized my drunken and careless behavior. She reminded me that I was not the only person to have said or done that "horrible awful no-good very bad thing" that I was so afraid to admit. 

She helped me to accept my flaws and mistakes as part of life. 

She showed me acceptance and forgiveness. 

She taught me that my past shaped the person I was becoming, but it did not define my quality of character.

She showed me how to love myself.

And the hole filled up. My heart became whole.

Through this process I learned that love is an omnipresent energy; it is everywhere. 

Will I EVER be Happy Again?!

Early sobriety sucks. 

Memories of my first 90 days in sobriety are sufficient motivation for me to not pick up a drink. I don't know if I would be willing to walk through that torturous emotional hurricane again. 

In the first three weeks, I woke up with panic attacks every night between 2 and 4 am.

When I woke up, the first thing that crossed my mind was whether I could get drunk or kill myself that day.

I was terrified all the time. 

Nothing was funny.  

I tried to convince my mom I could have one glass of wine with dinner. Because-after all-it was Thanksgiving...and everyone drinks wine on Thanksgiving. 

I obsessively wrote the serenity prayer in my journal during meetings.

Everywhere I went, I was sure everyone hated me. 

I didn't know who to ask for help.

I often cried at work and ran into the bathroom hoping nobody would see me. 

Then literally, on the 90th day, a switch flipped. 

On that particular day, I was working on the Coast Guard ship I was assigned to. (There was a brief period of time where I returned to the ship between my Captain's Mast and the day my therapist recommended I be temporarily reassigned to a shore unit.) It was a Friday and it had been an exceptionally long day for me. 

I had a headache from doing my hair up in a bun that was too tight. 

I felt drained emotionally, mentally, and physically. 

I was desperately lonely, wishing I had my parents in town to hug and reassure me instead of at their home 3,000 miles away.

I desperately wanted a drink.

Then I remembered something I was taught in rehab: H.A.L.T. Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired.

If you've never heard this acronym before, it is a way to check if you're meeting your physical and emotional needs before you run to pick up a drink. When a craving hits you, stop and ask, "Am I Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired?" If the answer is yes to ANY of the four, stop whatever you're doing and address that need immediately.

Since it was the end of the workday and all I had left to do was change out of my uniform and go home, I opted to roll over into my rack (military jargon for "bed") and take a nap. 

Four hours later, when I awoke, I felt physically different. The heaviness that had been resting so comfortably on my chest and shoulders for three months was GONE. I didn't feel anxious. I wasn't lonely or depressed.

And then, for the first time in many many months, I smiled.

In that moment of craving, I did the best possible thing for my sobriety:

I followed a suggestion that had been given to me.

People don't suggest you go to rehab or meetings for recovery programs (like AA, SMART, or LifeRing) because they want your money. Those programs are suggested so that you can learn ways to cope with your cravings without getting wasted. 

One of the most common concerns from people who are afraid to quit drinking is this: will I ever have fun again?

The answer is a resounding and assuring YES, although it may take a while. For me, it was 90 days before I had the first inkling that my life was about to improve. 

There are absolutely ways to be happy in sobriety. Just like it's absolutely possible to be miserable. Just because you get sober, your life isn't always filled with sunshine, puppies, sparkles, and unicorns. 

We learn how to keep sober through ALL the stuff that happens in life: break-ups, new relationships, death in the family, new baby, losing a job, getting a new job, and so on. And because life has many stages, and it just keeps changing, the learning process never ends. 

In the mornings, I choose to make a conscious effort to improve my life. For me, that starts with accepting that I'm an alcoholic. Then I have to accept that I have no control over the people, places, or things in my life EXCEPT for what happens in my own head. 

If I can remember these things, today might actually be a good day. 

I'm perfectly imperfect, and that's perfectly okay.

My mind is split in two: me and my addict.  They both reside in that grey matter between my ears and they both give me advice.  It’s like the angel and demon over each shoulder, or the story about how you have to choose between feeding one of two wolves that live inside you.  Lately I’ve been seeing a lot more of the devilish, angry, addict side of my brain which is miserable and incorrigible.  I have been hungry, angry, lonely, and tired.  There is very little anyone can say or do to improve my mood when I am in that state of mind. 

On my way home from work this evening I thought about doing something to help myself fight the alcoholic mindset.  I thought about going to talk to other people suffering from the same condition.

"Oh, it's 5:28, I could make it to the 5:30."

"You'll be late."

"There's always that other place that starts at 5:45."

“No, don’t go. It’s time for dinner.”

“But I’m not really all that hungry. Plus I have a banana and a salad

 with me so I could eat those if I get hungry enough.”

"You don't have a fork."

"I can use my fingers."

“But you don’t want salad for dinner. You want steak. 

Go home and cook something substantial.”

“I really don’t want to cook tonight. Besides, 

the salad will go bad if I don’t eat it tonight.”

“You ought to go home and work on your book, 

or finish that TV episode you started watching during the carpool.”

“I can’t work my recovery in around my life. 

I have to work my life around my recovery.”

And with that last thought, I turned left instead of right and went to talk with a bunch of sober alcoholics about recovery for a little while.  During the discussion I flashed back to that internal debate in my car and realized that I was really glad I didn’t go home. It reminded me of all the “reasons” my addict mindset has used to lure me towards drinking again. 

So, for your entertainment value, welcome to the insane part of my mind which gives me…

10 (Not Really) Justifiable Reasons My Alcoholic Mind Wants Me to Drink

1) You should just try to have a glass of red wine. It’ll taste so good.

2) Some people think you’re not really an alcoholic. You should go out and relapse just to PROVE IT to them!

3) Since you never went to jail, had your stomach pumped, or got nabbed for a DUI, you really ought to go back out drinking.  No one is going to take your book seriously without those experiences.

4) You don’t want to write a book about alcoholism without having relapsed, do you?  I mean, what alcoholic hasn’t relapsed?

5) To really recover from being a perfectionist, you should intentionally screw up your sobriety.  For no reason.  Just go and have a drink.

6) You’ll feel better.  All this stress you’re carrying around will be lifted once you have a gin and tonic.

7) You’ve already been sober as long as you drank, surely you’ll be fine. 

8) You’re bound to screw this whole sobriety thing up eventually anyway…I mean, statistically how long can you possibly stay sober?  Why not just beat it to the punch?

9) The wine the priest serves during Holy Communion is totally okay because as soon as he blesses it, it transforms metaphorically into blood.  So… you’re not really drinking wine.  You should at least drink the wine at communion.  

10) The Coast Guard doesn’t control your life anymore.  You won’t lose your job if you go out drinking one night. 


I think my alcoholism might have a point on the last one. I might not lose my job today after one night...but I know myself and I have heard other peoples' stories of relapses. One night will become just the first of many many more.  It might take days, weeks, months, or even years to lose my job as a result of my drinking. Who knows? But it would only be a matter of time. 

Who knows if I would ever get sober again? 

I stand to gain nothing as a result of quitting "the sobriety thing" intentionally. 
I cannot overcome my fear of failure or obsession with perfectionism by giving up the very thing I'm afraid of failing.  
I have no power over whether other people will find credence in my self-proclamation of being an alcoholic. Therefore, I should certainly not try to prove it to them or "improve my credentials" by drinking more. 

Yeah, I may not do this sobriety thing perfectly, and I may not stay sober for the rest of my life, but that's no reason to stop trying.  

anxiety doesn't become me

A few weeks ago I wrote a blog post called Pushing the Button. I talked about how important it is to trust the process. Today I remembered just how important this is as I have been struggling to trust the inevitable changes looming ahead for me. I realized that all of my concerns and worries were getting wrapped around me in a giant blanket of fear. I couldn't eat, I couldn't relax, even sleeping was stressful. 

I remembered that the keys to courage is learning how to keep moving forward in spite of the fear surrounding me. Here are some practical methods I use to acknowledge my fears and move forward without letting them control me.

1. Make a list. Or a spreadsheet.

      Usually when I'm wigging out like this, it's because I can't decide between two options, or I have too many thoughts to consider and remember. This will help you whether you're weighing two options or are afraid of everything. 
      I personally like spreadsheets for comparing things, or pairing actions with status updates, whatever. When I was looking at moving to be closer to work I estimated my cost of living in different towns by rent prices, pet deposits, commuting distances, approximate gas used per month, and toll costs. I compared these expenses for at least six different scenarios. Then I did it again for commuting on public transit. After that, my decision was easy.
      When I was trying to determine whether or not I was an alcoholic I made a list with two columns, one for reasons I was an alcoholic, and one for all the reasons I wasn't. What I found when I made the list was that all of the reasons I thought I wasn't an alcoholic were based on the opinions of other people....which brings me to...

2. Cross off any worries founded in the opinions of other people. 

     These are things we have no control over. People have minds of their own and we have no control over their thoughts and beliefs. If it's going to cause us agony, the only productive thing to do is to let it go. 

3. Group your fears by type according to people, money, love, and material belongings. 

    All fears stem from one of two ideas, "I'm not going to get what I want" or "I'm going to lose something I already have." It's easier to see which one each fear stems from when you group them like this.
    Go through your list and identify each item as fitting one of these two ideas. 

4. List actions you can take for every fear on your list. 

     As much as we like to think we are in complete control of our future, the fact is that other people exist in this world. While they may impact us, we have no idea how or when it will happen.
     What we can do includes anything on this list. Update your resume if you're afraid of losing a job. Hire an editor to work on your book's manuscript. Call a friend to ask for support with a difficult decision. 

5. Work on your to-do list, one fear at a time.

     Do not try to tackle everything at once. It like if you try to wash all of your clothes at once, the machine won't work because it's overloaded. The same principle applies. 
     Remember, put a big, fat line through each action once it's completed. 

6. Remember your FEARs are simply False Evidence Appearing Real. 

     "...notice and remind yourself that all fear, unless it involves rapidly moving weapons, teeth, or claws, is actually bullshit." ~ http://www.mrmoneymustache.com/2013/08/23/fear-is-just-a-chemical/

But whatever you do, don't let your life be run by fear. 

Sober on Bourbon Street

I saw this shirt today and flipped out. It's like it was made just for me:

Because that is ME to a T. Haha - get it? I know...that was a terrible pun. I don't blame you if you stop reading now.

This is my first trip to New Orleans and (so far) I’m doing it stone-cold sober. On my way into town on the plane last night I suddenly flashed back to the first time I realized that those little tiny bottles of booze were less than 3 oz and could go in my quart-size ziploc bag in my carry-on. I was overjoyed at the idea of having alcohol on the plane for a third of the price the airline would charge me. ANY way to save money while drinking was money well-spent, and a good reason to drink. Hell, everything was a good reason to drink.

While I'm a naturally wacky, outgoing person to begin with, for a long time that had to be supplemented with alcohol when I was in a public space with a bunch of people I didn't know.  Everywhere I went, I was worried that people were judging me. How arrogant is that? To think that every stranger I meet is taking time to look at, observe, and make a judgment about me is incredibly self-centered. Most of the time, other people are not thinking about you. Really. They're not. They are thinking about the turkey they need to get for dinner, whether or not they remembered to do something important, or are ruminating over what drink to get next. 

And even if they were looking at, and thinking about you, why should that even matter? 

The moment I accepted "what other people think of me is none of my business" as a personal truth, I lost my fear of people and my self-diagnosed social anxiety subsided. 

Tonight I got up to "sing" karaoke and rocked out to P!nk for 3 minutes and 23 seconds without any regard for what people in the audience thought about my performance or my dress. Sure, before going up there I was a little nervous, and even dragged a girlfriend up with me. I paused briefly and let my fear go.

And then....it was time to rock out. To a drinking song, but hey, "Raise Your Glass" is kind of my anthem...

So if you're too school for cool

(I mean)

And you're treated like a fool

(You're treated like a fool)

You can choose to let it go

We can always, we can always party on our own

So many of P!nk's lyrics speak to me personally, and this one is no exception. The idea that you can choose to let go of the way other people treat you and think of you is not something that I ever REALLY believed in...until I got sober. Learning how to let go of that judgment is not easy, but also incredibly liberating. Once you realize that drama doesn't HAVE to impact you, there's nothing to stop you from having fun whenever you want!

As I danced down Bourbon Street tonight (regardless of whether or not we heard music) I realized that I have a great gift. As a result of working hard learning to love myself, I've given myself permission to cut loose in whatever way I see fit! Whether that's dancing down Bourbon Street, wearing a kissing sticker on my chest, or screaming along to a karaoke track, it doesn't matter.

All that matters is that I stay true to who I am and what I want.

When I try to mold myself to meet someone else's expectations, THEN I run into trouble! 

So let's raise our glasses to never limiting our radiance to blend in with others! 

p.s. P!nk - you're my hero :-)

x