Reflections on 12 months of sobriety
Today marks 12 months since I walked into an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I woke up on a non descript Monday morning, hungover for no good…
Today marks 12 months since I walked into an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. I woke up on a non descript Monday morning, hungover for no good reason having spent the night drinking alone, and decided that I couldn’t take it any more. Having struggled with alcohol for many years, I have no idea why that morning happened to be the morning. But it was, and 365 days later I can say with certainty that it was the best thing that has ever happened to me. As a happily married father of two, this does sometimes feel like an exaggeration. And yet it’s accurate to say that if I hadn’t got a handle on my drinking, I’m not sure I would still have my family around me. Through my recovery I have met many well intentioned, smart, highly capable people who, I am ashamed to say, I would not have previously looked at and considered an alcoholic, who no longer have their families around them. The only thing separating me from them is when I stopped drinking, and so I can say with certainty that this was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I still have my family.
As this notable anniversary lands, I’ve been thinking about what has changed for me over the last year and what observations I’ve made that had previously passed me by. It feels somewhat self indulgent to write this, however when I stop to consider the difference between the me of today and the me of 12 months ago, I can’t help but be surprised and grateful at the changes I’ve undergone and the things that I now believe to be true. I also know that before I got sober, there were many subtle yet necessary nudges from unexpected sources that brought to me the right place, and I have some small hope that this post might nudge someone else who is struggling in the right direction. These are also truisms that apply outside of addiction, I just learned them the hard way, so it’s also my hope that those without these challenges may also take something from it.
It should go without saying that these words represent a snapshot of my current thinking and I certainly don’t present them as a complete or expert compendium of addiction philosophy or psychology. They are merely the Venn diagram of my ‘n of 1’ experience, the reading I have done on this topic, and a new year’s resolution to do more writing. So, here we are.
Observation 1: Almost nothing you’re socially scared of is actually scary.
18 months before I went to my first AA meeting, I called a helpline and said that I thought I was an alcoholic. They suggested I attend just such a meeting, and I quietly agreed that was the right thing to do. I was scared though. It felt humiliating to put that label on myself. Why couldn’t I just control my drinking like everyone else? Have one or two and then head home? Too many nights spent drinking in pubs by myself should have taught me that I didn’t have that relationship with alcohol, but I was too afraid to admit it. Or rather, I was too afraid to do anything about it.
However, when I then attended a meeting and first said the words “my name’s Tim and I’m an alcoholic”, the fear was instantly gone. It felt like a 10 ton weight had been lifted from my shoulders; utter relief at finally having putting a name to what had been ailing me for so long. It was still emotionally overwhelming, and in some respects all I had achieved was to nudge the flood gates ajar. But I had done that, at least.
It wasn’t over though. Whilst my wife had been on the emotional rollercoaster with me, she was the only person in the world who knew what was going on. I needed to tell my friends and family, but again — there was fear. What will they think of me? Will they be disappointed, upset, embarrassed or ashamed to be associated of me? Will it still be fun for us all to meet up? Will we still enjoy each others company?
And yet once again, after having those conversations, the fear evaporated. It was a creation of my mind that held undeserved power over me and served only to control my actions. The overwhelmingly positive reaction I got from those closest to me speaks to how privileged I am to be surrounded by quality friends and family. And yet despite that, I was sill hesitant to share the truth with them.
The title of this observation comes from the great Tim Urban from Wait but Why whose article ‘Taming the Mammoth: Why you should stop caring what other people think’ resonated with me on a number of levels, but the quote that hit me the most was; almost nothing you’re socially scared of is actually scary. In everything that has happened over the last 12 months, I have found this to be true. It’s also one of the reasons I am once again doing my best to face into fear by attempting to write down my thoughts and share them openly. The only thing holding me back really is fear, and if that’s been an unhelpful construct of my mind in the past, why would that not be true once again?
One of the things that prevented me getting sober sooner, I think, was fear. Fear of what would be left once I stripped away alcohol. And yet, nothing I have been socially scared of has been proven to be actually scary. So what else might the fear be preventing me from doing?
Observation 2: You need to work out what’s important to you
During the period where I was coming to terms with my drinking, I made a bad career choice. There were a number of reasons why this was true, but one of them was that I hadn’t done the work to truly understand what was important to me. I thought it was money, title, and accelerated progression. In fact it was proximity to family, balance, and doing professional work on topics I care about with people that I trust. I cannot count the number of times that as a recruiter, I have given advice to candidates that they shouldn’t move for money and title. And yet I did just that.
I started this new role a couple of months sober, and quickly realised my values system was upside down in the decision making process. The period of self reflection and introspection that sobriety has been the catalyst for lead me to revisiting what was truly important to me and why I carried certain beliefs about my career, or abilities. I was lucky enough to be coached by Ruth Penfold who worked with me during this period, including some sessions dedicated to working through ‘Designing your life’, an incredibly useful resource in approaching this problem. This was accompanied by some specialist counselling to unpack just what had transpired with my addiction, which lead to reading, amongst others, Gabor Mate’s ‘In the realm of hungry ghosts’ which was particularly moving. These all forced me to think about what was important to me.
My experience was that, until I had a handle on my own values, I couldn’t know for sure that I was making decisions that would lead to a life congruent with them. For some people alignment happens coincidentally and for those folks it’s fantastic. But if it doesn’t, and you find yourself somewhere you didn’t expect to be, you have to do the work to understand where the gap is to give yourself a fighting chance of closing it. I hadn’t appreciated just how far I had drifted until I did this and whilst I am very much a work in progress, I am much more comfortable that I am on the right track.
Observation 3: Consistency beats perfection.
Up until 12 months ago, I have had periods of pious perfection with respect to alcohol, diet, exercise, and how I spend my time. I would periodically stop drinking for a few months, exercise and eat right every day, get up early and prioritise time with family and friends. I would tell myself that this was the new normal and that I had finally cracked it. Inevitably though, I would regress to a more unhealthy norm filled with alcohol and inactivity. I don’t mean to paint myself as some sort of wreck. I was holding down my job and I still had healthy relationships, but I was very much not being the best version of myself.
As the months and years progressed, I found that my spikes of perfection became shorter and the periods in between became longer. This was one of the many pennies that dropped during this time that suggested to me that I did in fact, have a problem.
That crystallized this final observation for me; consistently good beats occasionally perfect. The best diet is the one you can stick to. The best family rituals are those that are actually repeated. The best form of exercise is the one you can maintain and enjoy. And once I came to realise that I needn’t strive for perfection everyday but instead just be consistent, staying sober and harnessing the benefits of waking up clear headed each morning became instantly more attainable. And this isn’t to say that we shouldn’t push ourselves; it’s unlikely we’ll achieve our potential if we don’t. But the impact of small, repeatable and consistent habits is played out over month and years, not hours and days. The payback is slow but entirely worth it. The quote attributed to Bill Gates is that people often overestimate what they can do in one year and underestimate what they can do in ten. Though the timescales in my case are shorter, I have found the principle to be true and one that I try to my best to practice each day.
These are three truly impactful things that I didn’t really think about a year ago, but that my journey to sobriety has taught me. There are of course, countless other lessons and observations and many people better qualified than me to tell them.
However, my aims in writing this were both to face into my fear of sharing, and put something out there which might strike a cord with someone else who is struggling. If I can get close to achieving those, it will have been worth it.