6 Years Sober…What a Trip

Last Thursday I celebrated six years of sobriety. These landmarks always lead to reflection and as I looked back, from my first post six months in to my journey to my most recent, which was too long ago, I felt like a parent watching her child grow. My first posts were a mix of gratitude that I was getting out of a place I never wanted to return and anger at a world that I felt had misled me in so many ways. What underscored it all, though, was a sense that I was embarking on a journey of self-discovery that I had yet to take, and the anticipation of going somewhere that I had yet to go.

And now that I am six years into the journey that will end only when I cease to be, I can look out over certain vistas and appreciate the view, knowing that something equally surprising and awe-inspiring may wait around the next bend. I can divide my sober time into three phases, and I hope there will be many more. A one-word description of each would be: acknowledging, gathering, and becoming.

The first few years started with acknowledging I could no longer live in the way I had been conditioned to by avoiding pain and discomfort by numbing out. I realized that the coping mechanisms I developed, starting in my teens, were not serving me and there was not one positive thing resulting from my habitual drinking. I acknowledged that the problems I was seeking to escape were only exacerbated by booze, and that even the celebrations were squandered. And I started to acknowledge that I could in fact live differently, and do life, without this imagined crutch. I went through 7 months of Covid lockdown with my three kids and me doing work and school at home while my husband was stuck on a deployment in Turkey. When he left, I was 8 months sober (for the second time) and when he returned I was not only sober, but strong and resolute in the fact that I could do hard hard things.

The years that followed were full of gathering. What would I put into all the space that had been cleared of toxic thoughts and substances? I gathered a sense of self and welcomed in the ideas and interests that were taking hold. I bought a camera and went out into nature, obsessed with capturing the beauty and behavior of birds. I began playing the piano again. I devoured all the books that I never had the mental clarity to consume while drinking. Unfortunately, perimenopause hit and I gathered a lot of weight. I felt stuck again, but in a different way. Like something had stolen the spark I was working so hard to find and fan. So I gathered information from books and podcasts and doctors and wise women. Then I gathered the courage to get up and do something about it. I began exercising and eating healthier. And I gathered strength, which I am determined to keep with me on my journey.

Somewhere in the past year, I’ve started my second act. It’s crazy how life works, but in the midst of gathering information and new ideas I stumbled upon a life-changing realization. I realized that my life had become slightly varied versions of the same day, with the same familiar thoughts and comfortable emotions running the show. The last post I published ended with me questioning my programmed response of a realist rather than a dreamer. It planted a seed that I watered with questions: why have I never pursued my dreams? What if I reach the end of my life and realize I never really tried to achieve them? The seed sprouted when I woke up one morning with the thought that I had to find the children’s book manuscript I’d written in college over 25 years ago. The one about the clumsy honeybee who couldn’t dance, that I’d sent to a few publishers and received a few rejections and then quietly put away. That day, I found my manuscript and my dream, both of which I’d stashed away indefinitely. I dusted them off and started imagining, reworking, and envisioning. I hired a freelance editor (who worked on The Hunger Games series!), and she helped me re-work some more, making some huge improvements. I took the first steps in following my dreams, and becoming.

I’ve since written six stories that are in various stages. I’m sending my honeybee story to literary agents, hoping to find someone who will help me realize this dream of becoming a published picture book author. I’m researching, visualizing, affirming, attending, writing, editing, reading, writing some more, dreaming, meditating, praying, willing, believing and TRYING. All this to say, that I am no longer playing small, but dreaming big. I am no longer living the same version of the same day, but co-creating my reality with the One who created me to be amazing. I am no longer defined by my past, but by what I am becoming.

And this trip I’m on all started the day I quit drinking.

Wishing you all the courage and joy and awe that comes with taking this trip of a lifetime.