Saturday
Aug202011
This Is The First Anniversary Of My Sobriety
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Listening: Patrick Watson's "Big Bird In a Small Cage":
That photo is of the last coin I flipped to decided if I should have another drink. The coin came up no. I said yes anyway and forgot the rest of the night. So it went, then. I forgot half my nights. I slid into an uneasy balance between tipsy and lost until I woke up some time later trying to work out how I got home.
It doesn't go that way anymore, because today is the one year anniversary of my sobriety.
When I start to wax nostalgic about the terrible good old days, I have a handful of photos that I look at to remind me of how isolating it was to sit drunk and hollowed out at a table most evenings with people to whom, for the most part, I felt no spiritual connection. It's amazing what we'll do for ten years to keep a hold of the safe sensation of the clack and thrum of moving along, moving along, moving along. I was my own cow, prodding myself along.
To be honest, it is only approximately the one year anniversary of my sobriety. When I quit drinking, I had to fool myself into it. I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. I barely told myself.
I remember the last thing I remember from the last night that I drank. I got up from the table on the patio I had been sitting at all summer and walked in the wrong direction. I didn't walk in the usual direction. I turned right instead of left. I have found that a good way to make a decision stick in your head is to make your body go over unfamiliar, unhabitual territory. It puts a mark in your brain that will make your needle skip when you hit it. It tells you to go this way and not that. It reminds you of what's important.
I walked away.
Making the turn I never made stuck in my brain, but the rest of the night disappeared down a hole like most before it, and I woke up unable to recall how it was I had made it home. I went through my usual post-drunk night motions for the last time: I checked my wallet to see that I hadn't been robbed, I looked at pictures on my phone to jog my memory, I checked my legs to see if I had more bruises that would tell the Palinode how drunk I'd been again, and then I cried with shame in the shower.
It was the last time. I didn't really believe that it was the last time, but it was the last time.
I didn't know at the time, though, that I would survive. I quit because I knew that I was going to kill myself, that the alcohol was fuelling the second nature suicidal desire I've had with me since first conscious light. I could see that unnecessarily herding myself over the precipice because I couldn't stop putting a particular liquid in a glass and then putting that liquid into my body, that allowing emotions to dictate the downfall of my entire existence like a child wound into a perpetual, unreasonable tantrum, was ridiculous.
I was going to lead myself to suicide over little more than a feigned helplessness about making the choice to turn right instead of left. It was ridiculous to choose that, so I got up from my table and walked the other way.
If you find yourself inside one of those moments where you wake up and feel like you're really breathing, and you are hit with a sudden clarity that pulls you out of the sad weight of subjective desire, grab on and follow it with everything you've got. That is life's invitation to hitch yourself to a new horse. You've been tapped on the shoulder by the universe. This is your time.
I'm sitting at my kitchen table this morning, and I don't know what to say about it all. I am floored that this is where I find myself. I have an entire year of sobriety under my belt now.
This work I'm doing is far from over. This sobriety baby is really only just now getting its legs, but rather than feel defeated by the fact that, a year in, it is still this hard sometimes, I am excited. All of the hours I put into drinking and wallowing and not believing and not doing never fed my heart and mind so much as doing the work to embrace my sobriety.
I've discovered an ability to realize my creativity that I didn't have faith in before. Confidence and self-esteem are like candy after years of self-defeat. Like flock to like, and I'm finding my soul brethren. Food tastes better. My full range of emotions is back, and I've discovered the delicious fierceness of real anger again. I am a kid with myself now that I no longer numb out every high and low with alcohol. I am actually alive and actually breathing after 21 years of carefully maintaining my drinking calendar.
And, for this, I need to thank you. I came here to this place on the internet 365 days ago and laid it out. To love myself, I had to come clean everywhere, and I came here not knowing how you would be with me. I had to be willing to lose you, to lose this place, but you were gentle with me. You were kind. You took me at my word and held me up. You wrote me comments and e-mails to let me know that I was not alone. You told me that putting it out there made you less alone. You bouyed me up when I had to walk away from almost everyone that populated my daily life. When I wasn't sure who I was or why I was doing this, I came here, and because you were here, I stuck to the work of making it work.
People who say that friends on the internet aren't real don't know you.
This is the first anniversary of my sobriety, and, for the first time, I feel like I'm walking into my life. My life. I own this one.
Thank you.
That photo is of the last coin I flipped to decided if I should have another drink. The coin came up no. I said yes anyway and forgot the rest of the night. So it went, then. I forgot half my nights. I slid into an uneasy balance between tipsy and lost until I woke up some time later trying to work out how I got home.
It doesn't go that way anymore, because today is the one year anniversary of my sobriety.
When I start to wax nostalgic about the terrible good old days, I have a handful of photos that I look at to remind me of how isolating it was to sit drunk and hollowed out at a table most evenings with people to whom, for the most part, I felt no spiritual connection. It's amazing what we'll do for ten years to keep a hold of the safe sensation of the clack and thrum of moving along, moving along, moving along. I was my own cow, prodding myself along.
To be honest, it is only approximately the one year anniversary of my sobriety. When I quit drinking, I had to fool myself into it. I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. I barely told myself.
I remember the last thing I remember from the last night that I drank. I got up from the table on the patio I had been sitting at all summer and walked in the wrong direction. I didn't walk in the usual direction. I turned right instead of left. I have found that a good way to make a decision stick in your head is to make your body go over unfamiliar, unhabitual territory. It puts a mark in your brain that will make your needle skip when you hit it. It tells you to go this way and not that. It reminds you of what's important.
I walked away.
Making the turn I never made stuck in my brain, but the rest of the night disappeared down a hole like most before it, and I woke up unable to recall how it was I had made it home. I went through my usual post-drunk night motions for the last time: I checked my wallet to see that I hadn't been robbed, I looked at pictures on my phone to jog my memory, I checked my legs to see if I had more bruises that would tell the Palinode how drunk I'd been again, and then I cried with shame in the shower.
It was the last time. I didn't really believe that it was the last time, but it was the last time.
I didn't know at the time, though, that I would survive. I quit because I knew that I was going to kill myself, that the alcohol was fuelling the second nature suicidal desire I've had with me since first conscious light. I could see that unnecessarily herding myself over the precipice because I couldn't stop putting a particular liquid in a glass and then putting that liquid into my body, that allowing emotions to dictate the downfall of my entire existence like a child wound into a perpetual, unreasonable tantrum, was ridiculous.
I was going to lead myself to suicide over little more than a feigned helplessness about making the choice to turn right instead of left. It was ridiculous to choose that, so I got up from my table and walked the other way.
If you find yourself inside one of those moments where you wake up and feel like you're really breathing, and you are hit with a sudden clarity that pulls you out of the sad weight of subjective desire, grab on and follow it with everything you've got. That is life's invitation to hitch yourself to a new horse. You've been tapped on the shoulder by the universe. This is your time.
I'm sitting at my kitchen table this morning, and I don't know what to say about it all. I am floored that this is where I find myself. I have an entire year of sobriety under my belt now.
This work I'm doing is far from over. This sobriety baby is really only just now getting its legs, but rather than feel defeated by the fact that, a year in, it is still this hard sometimes, I am excited. All of the hours I put into drinking and wallowing and not believing and not doing never fed my heart and mind so much as doing the work to embrace my sobriety.
I've discovered an ability to realize my creativity that I didn't have faith in before. Confidence and self-esteem are like candy after years of self-defeat. Like flock to like, and I'm finding my soul brethren. Food tastes better. My full range of emotions is back, and I've discovered the delicious fierceness of real anger again. I am a kid with myself now that I no longer numb out every high and low with alcohol. I am actually alive and actually breathing after 21 years of carefully maintaining my drinking calendar.
And, for this, I need to thank you. I came here to this place on the internet 365 days ago and laid it out. To love myself, I had to come clean everywhere, and I came here not knowing how you would be with me. I had to be willing to lose you, to lose this place, but you were gentle with me. You were kind. You took me at my word and held me up. You wrote me comments and e-mails to let me know that I was not alone. You told me that putting it out there made you less alone. You bouyed me up when I had to walk away from almost everyone that populated my daily life. When I wasn't sure who I was or why I was doing this, I came here, and because you were here, I stuck to the work of making it work.
People who say that friends on the internet aren't real don't know you.
This is the first anniversary of my sobriety, and, for the first time, I feel like I'm walking into my life. My life. I own this one.
Thank you.
categorized in health, writing and blogging and tagged in alcoholism, health, sober, sobriety
health, writing and blogging and tagged in alcoholism, health, sober, sobriety 
Reader Comments (75)
Thank YOU, my cyberfriend.
You have been a guiding light for others of us who struggle.
You are stronger than you think you are. Thing is, reading you has taught me that so am I.
Three Cheers to you, Elan--and for what its worth, I do think that you totally own this one. Here's to many more days, that comprise many more years, of your sobriety. Your honesty and frank reflection are so compelling. Thank you.
This was hard for me to read because it hits to close to home for me. Thank you for sharing your story. I've had a problem with drinking since I was 13. I keep trying to stop but I can't. Every time I get close to thinking I can something happens and I just need that drink. A year ago I almost died from drinking and was told I needed to stop. I tried but I couldn't.
Reading you story helps someone like me. Thank you for sharing your story. You are an amazing lady.
You? Are FIERCE and funny and poignant and my Hero.
It's been a little over 4 years since I quit my $40-$80 a day cocaine habit. I understand very well that clarity and joy over the honest (not coke-fueled) range of emotions. I just want to say, it does get easier. :) I'm so proud of you!
Congratulations on your anniversary. I think you are superbly awesome.
I've been a lurker for a while, but am compelled to comment today. First, congratulations on your milestone. I am bursting with pride for you! Secondly, as someone who loves a sibling that won't even admit he is an addict let alone try to become sober, your words took my breath away. I pray he finds your clarity someday. I do know he has to find it on his own though-I cannot give it to him. I will continue to come here, cheer for you, laugh with you, and most of all love reading your words! Thank you;)
Congratulations. You are brave, strong and an inspiration. Beautiful song, Queen. :)
I am proud of you. It is not easy. You are strong and your example is strong.
I have been enjoying your blog for quite a while but never commented. Congratulations of your major milestone. And thank you for your open, honest, humorous observations on life.
I cannot find the words to adequately express how special I think you are...
You made me cry, wonderful you.
So much of this resonated with me - not just the events leading up to your decision, the way in which you made it, and the ongoing struggle you face, but also the wonderful discoveries you've made.
Congratulations. I look forward to saying that in person someday too.
Wonderful, amazing! You're awesome. The 23rd is my 5 year sobriety from junk and coke. It's crazy how I can remember all of it like it was yesterday, but it also feels like it was lifetimes ago.
I'm so proud of you!
Your strength, courage and honesty are so admirable. This is a major milestone, a huge accomplishment that you completely deserve. So happy for you. So grateful that you share your story and inspire others. Congrats!
Congratulations. What a remarkable and uplifting story you tell. Thanks for sharing it here.
Congratulations! I cried and I mean I cried...because I understand the words you speak. My sobriety date is 10-21-01; sometimes, when I think about it or hear someone's story it takes me back to that 1st year...I'll never ever forget the painful experience of the 1st 90 days and when my moment of relief turned to freedom from the strong-hold Alcohol had on me...
Thank you for reminding me of how truly grateful I am for being Sober! It sure as hell beats the way it was! I just feel so blessed to have found your blog! Your willingness to open up and share impresses me :)
I've often been told and take comfort in knowing...no matter what -- it doesn't matter -- even if you think your ass is about to fall off -- you do not have to drink over it!
Good luck. 10 years here. It gets better
Congratulations!!!! :) *Hugest of Hugs* and Much Love!!!!! Yay you.
Congratulations on completing a sober trip 'round the sun.
And congratulations on being the witty, gritty, inspirational person you are to so many... myself included.
Thank you, Elan. You deserve all the praise and adulation you are receiving here.
Rock on with your bad self, lady. One whole year. Yeah, it's only a start, but what an awesome start it is.
Congratulations. What an accomplishment.
I am so honored to have you as a friend, lovely one.
I'm so very proud of you, lady. <3
Quiet and sitting next to you and shoving my shoulder against yours with one of those hey-you affectionate shoves and maybe our feet are dangling. xo
"It's amazing what we'll do for ten years to keep a hold of the safe sensation of the clack and thrum of moving along, moving along, moving along."
It really is.
You are one of the people I admire most in the whole world. You were before, and you are even more so now, not because of anything in particular, it's just that I feel like I know you better.
You know a tiny part of my story, and I'm honored, constantly, to read so much of yours. Yours are some of the best words I've found on this or any topic.
Happy anniversary. I am so full of joy for the better life you've worked for and only just begun (I believe) to find.
Wow. What a powerful story and an amazing piece of writing. You are so brave.
Contratulations! I am so glad that you walked away. The world would be much worse off without Schmutzie in it. I'm serious. You are freaking awesome, and you deserve to be sober and happy. xo
This is so good. I remember that post and it seems like yesterday that I read it. I am so proud of you.
Not that I ever noticed your drinking before, but I will say that there is a lightness to you now...a glow. You're eyes are clear and your smile is REAL and your clarity is a beautiful thing.
Congratulations. I'm very proud of you.
May your story and strength help one more person. And then one more.
And may their story help one more...
Until it all comes back to you, all the love in the world that you deserve.
I had no idea when I met you that this was so recent in your world. And here you are, amazed and amazing. I'm so impressed by your honesty and brave soul. Darkness is a step away for many - to turn the other way, to walk, to put one foot in front of the other is a huge, stunning accomplishment. I can't quite bring myself to imagine that I have words deserving of it, but to not comment is a crime.
Congratulations, salutations, and more. And especially so because I will tell you this tiny scrap - I know someone who 15 or so years ago didn't make that turn. They couldn't see it, couldn't hear the chorus and pleas and applause that waited. And 15 years ago or so ago that person became lost forever. Having watched it, I will say this - grab your life, hold tight and never look back. You have done a great, true thing. xo
Thank you for sharing your beautiful, heartfelt journey. I was where you were 7 years ago. To find the way out, I had to take a different turn too - so glad to see that put into print. To go from existing to living is a wonderful, mysterious thing. The best of luck to you...
I did not know of your journey, until I read Anissa's reblog/share on Google Plus. I just want to say congrats, and that I hope you continue on this path.
You Go!!! One year is fantastic!! I can't wait to read the post for two years.
Courageous, strong, beautiful, awesome! Been there. The first year is tough, but extremely rewarding. There's nothing you can't do once you put your mind to it. Keep a close safety net of friends and be real.
I'm working on year eight and it just keeps getting better.
Rock on...
Courageous, strong, beautiful, awesome!
Been there. The first year is tough, but extremely rewarding. There's nothing you can't do once you put your mind to it.
Keep a close safety net of friends and be real.
I'm working on year eight and it just keeps getting better.
Rock on...
I am all unbreakable grins for you.
And those little chin chucks and attaboys you give me on those days that I desperately want to slip and sling something into my veins? They mean more than you realize.
Welcome to the world, Us. We are fiercer'n fuck.
I am so very proud of you. Proud of you for getting sober and staying sober for 12 long months. Also, maybe even more proud of the courage you show in making this journey public, for sharing the ups and downs, the challenges and triumphs, and pictures of that sweet belly. There are so many of us who share your past. I nod along, running through my own checklist of bad drunken behaviour. I havent had the courage to talk about it with anyone but it got bad enough that I quit partying and pulled my life together. I'm lucky to be where I am today, and so proud to see you sober and reclaiming your life. You're an inspiration.
Congratulations! My 2 year anniversary is tomorrow. :)
Happy Anniversary! Hope you have many more (and enjoy the journey)!
Congratulations. One year is a remarkable achievement. Here's to many more.
So thrilled for and by and with and all around you. Well done, my love.
xo
tears and a grin and goosebumps and gratitude.
GO YOU!
Happy Anniversary! I just found you via Twitter, and I'll be adding you into my Google Reader!
My 9 month anniversary is Monday.
What everybody else said. Congratulations, Schmutz!! :D
I am proud of you. You earned it. You have earned THIS. Keep at it. We're all here.
I had one year of sobriety on May 1st. It's nice to wake up and know where you are, and who you're with, and how you got there, huh? ;-) Congratulations! Life has only just begun!
I had a long discussion with someone today about the overuse of the word awesome, however this really is awesome. Congrats. I'm so happy for you.