Two Years Sober

When freedom stopped feeling so free.

Sober.

It sounds so serious. I suppose it is.

I made the decision to stop drinking two years ago, the day after Mother’s Day. I had really honestly mistaken a premixed bottled cocktail as a single serving when it was actually a few (tee hee oops), blacked out, then woke up the next day feelin it. Enough is enough. I’m DONE.

Forever?

I don’t know.

But for now.

I’d always prided myself in having a high tolerance for alcohol. I don’t get Asian flush. I can keep up with the guys pretty easily. I get silly but not stupid. And I refused to live legalistically, but out of freedom in Christ. Yet…at some point, this freedom stopped feeling so free.

I never really struggled with irresponsible drinking in college. It wasn’t until my late 20’s when I started enjoying more frequent girls wine nights or having a drink at the end of a hard day to unwind from the weight of my work as a therapist. Still, it wasn’t too big of an issue.

It became a daily thing in the mind-numbing newborn haze when I was drowning in postpartum anxiety and depression. For the life of me I could not get my brain to shut down enough to sleep in the months I was nursing around the clock, which led me to some pretty dark places. Desperate for sleep, I stumbled upon a quick fix - wine. Wine could shut off my anxieties and make me drowsy enough to fall asleep. It didn’t matter that I’d wake up in a few hours when the alcohol had metabolized, that’s when I’d need to wake up for the next feeding anyways. And guess what?? It comes in BOXES. (Please note, I did do research on the impact of alcohol on breast milk and while it was safe for my little ones, I wouldn’t recommend it as a sleep aid.)

Well, the kids stopped nursing around the clock and started sleeping through the night. By then I’d gotten used to using alcohol as my daily “shut off” button, not just for sleep but after a hard day of parenting. After a fight with RJ. To numb my social anxiety so I could just be “fun Alice” and not “socially awkward ‘afraid-no-one-will-like-me’ Alice.” To make my imposter syndrome shut up. To make hard feelings go away. Slowly, wine o’clock began earlier and earlier in the day.

But the thing about this “shut off” button? It’s not actually shutting anything off. It’s just piling up problems for later. I liken it to force quitting your computer when it’s buggy. Sure it might shut off and reboot but the problems are still there, ready to rear their ugly heads with greater vengeance the next time around. My insecurities, my social anxiety, imposter syndrome, my poor coping skills and emotional dysregulation, the unresolved conflicts and hurts in my life.

That all would be enough to want to quit drinking (or would it, because I’ve only just created a more massive beast of a problem?? Blah, I’ll deal with it later..but…shoot..that’s how I got into this mess in the first place!! You see what I mean??). Then there’s the chemical dependency side of things. The feeling of, “I NEED a drink to fall asleep, do I have enough to stay sleepy??” The “Shoot, this buzz is wearing off, how can I keep the blissful good times going so I don’t start feeling like the socially awkward weirdo that I am?” The “I don’t want to feel these hard feelings, so I’m just going to have a couple drinks to get my mind off them.”

The greatest casualty from my drinking has been presence, which also happens to be one of my highest values. My ability to be fully present with God, with those around me, with myself. Not only was there the mental slavery of always thinking about how and when I could have my next drink, I’d wake up groggy from a night of disrupted sleep and with a slight hangover that would result in me being more irritable with my family in the mornings. Instead of being fully present and enjoying family time in the evenings, I’d live my nights through this haze, this pretense of relaxation that was actually just numbness. Even the joys and celebrations felt too vulnerable to experience fully present.

I never hit a rock bottom with drinking. In some way, I wish I had because the resolve to stop would have been much easier. There’ve been no interventions. No DUIs. No benders or close calls. No dropped balls. I’ve always been fully functional and dependable at work, loving and safe to my children. And yet for the couple of years prior to quitting there’d just been this nagging feeling that maybe the way things have been wasn’t the life to the full that Jesus promised. That the freedom I once had with drinking was no longer so free, but was actually more slavery.

I’d tried limiting alcohol by setting different boundaries (i.e. drinking only on weekends, drinking only when traveling, completely abstaining for Lent, etc.) and have gone a couple months at a time here and there without alcohol; but again, without a rock bottom motivation it always managed to creep back into my life.

I’m not sure why this last time stuck. Maybe it was because I was on sabbatical and the pace of life was slower. Maybe it was because I was going to therapy for anxiety. Maybe it was because RJ and I were going to marriage counseling for some long overdue things we needed to work through. Maybe it was because I started letting myself feel the hard feelings instead of numbing them. Maybe my tolerance for discomfort increased along the way. Actually, for sure it has, though social anxiety and imposter syndrome continue to be some of my greater vulnerabilities.

Whatever the reason, I’ve felt the most deeply free and the most deeply me these past couple years. Like I’m really living life to the full.

My sleep has been as good as it can be with a four year old who crawls in my bed every night, yet WAY better than the disrupted sleep I used to get. I feel less gross and way less anxious throughout the day.

My mind is no longer wrapped up in when I can have my next drink or how I can keep the buzz going; I’m free to be fully present to those around me.

I’m working through the hard stuff, the hurts and the pain, so that they’re less hard the next time I feel them.

I’m showing up as myself, in social anxiety and imposter-y feelings and all, and settling more in the belovedness of who I am, even if it is a little nerdy and quirky.

I’m experiencing greater joy and fulfillment in my day-to-day in both the ordinary moments and the extraordinary ones.

I’m dealing with all the things, no matter how hard they are. I’m doing it all, gosh darn it, and I’m finally doing it all sober!

Does this mean I’ll never have a drink again? Honestly, I don’t know. Sometimes I’m curious if I can go back to those days where I could have the occasional drink and not feel pulled to more. I wish I could be one of those people. At least for now, I know that I don’t want to risk falling back into the slavery that it was so recently for me just for curiosity’s sake.

I don’t believe it’s a sin to drink alcohol. I know many people who do just fine with it. For me, alcohol was a non-issue that the thief has used to steal, kill, and destroy little by little, more and more over the years until it did become an issue. I thank God everyday for helping me get sober and I’m endlessly grateful that Jesus came to offer me this life and life to the full.

Here’s to two years! ✌🏼

If you’re wondering about your own relationship with alcohol (if you’re a little “sober curious,” if you will), I’d love to connect. Maybe Jesus is inviting you to a greater life to the full as well.