People get sober in all sorts of ways. Sometimes they just quit on their own. Sometimes they go to rehab. They show up in 12-step rooms, ashrams, churches and their parents’ basements. There is no one right way—something we’ve aimed to show in our collection of How I Got Sober stories. While we initially published these as either first person essays by our contributors or as interviews with anonymous sober folks, we eventually began to realize that there were other stories to tell: yours. This is our reader spotlight and this, more specifically, is Olivia. Read more about her weight-loss journey at Liv’s Locomotion.
Click here to see all of our How I Got Sober stories
What is your sobriety date?
My sobriety date is March 26th, 2012 and my clean time date is August 5th, 2012.
While I entered the rooms of AA to deal with my alcoholism, my denial was so great that I didn’t consider the abuse of prescription medication—and long history of drug use—to be an issue. I hadn’t taken “proper” drugs in years. It wasn’t until my sponsor took me to an NA meeting that I ceased abusing prescription drugs.
Where did you get sober?
Manchester, UK
When did you first start drinking?
I first drank alcohol around the age of 13, drinking straight vodka and smoking pot in the local church graveyard. Classy. When I took the drink, I immediately felt alive. It was as if someone had turned on the lights and I had arrived. Right from the start, I couldn’t get enough. I always blacked out and would spend the week looking forward to the opportunity to use again. I quickly progressed to using any mind-altering substance I could: amphetamines, LSD, cocaine and prescription opiates.
How would you describe your life before you quit drinking?
Painful, torturous and utterly desperate. Though I managed to succeed in college and later hold down a job—barely—my relationships and health suffered devastating consequences. I lost many relationships, generated tens of thousands of pounds worth of debt and caused scarring on my liver (among other alcohol-related illnesses).
I would say the disease ravaged through my life until there was nothing left—except for me and the bottle and pills. I had started to realize the enormity of the consequences when my brother flew over from the States out of desperate concern for me, my mother tried to take me to meetings and I lost my job. But I still struggled to control my using. You name it, I tried it. But soon enough I’d be right back in the same place: throwing up, suffering from severe migraines and depression and attempting new methods of control.
What was your childhood like?
In a word: awful.
My father was an alcoholic and my mother was starting her drinking career. We ended up living in the UK when I was four. With nothing. My mum strove to provide a great life for us, whilst dealing with her own demons and the loss of her marriage. And she did it: we had our own house, went on vacations and had food on the table. But the cost—this is hard to write knowing my mum did her best—was that she wasn’t able to offer that emotional nourishment and availability I so desperately craved. What I saw was a woman trying so hard to keep it together, exhausted and slowly drowning in the wine bottle. I also saw a wonderful woman always struggling to be slimmer, trying diet after diet after diet. I withdrew entirely. I was mute for a lot of my childhood and I can still go there now. My father, on the other hand, didn’t really fulfill that role. I now believe that he also lacked the emotional nourishment, coping strategies and skills I did in my formative years. He was doing the best he could.
The changes in my hormones, family, authority figure and location had me heading for disaster. I discovered drugs and had that “ah” moment, finding a stop to my insecurity and racing mind. But I became very depressed, attempting suicide twice, developed anorexia and bulimia and had a violent, destructive and emotionally abusive boyfriend.
Do you remember the first time you thought you might have a problem?
It became frightening. I’d wake up in the morning and would check if I was alone, look for evidence of what might have happened the night before and then inspect myself for injuries. My emotional state was a disaster, in a constant state of fear that I’d run out of substances. Family and the few friends I had left tried constantly to intervene. By my late 20s, the name Liv the Liability was coined to describe me.
How did you rationalize your drinking?
I surrounded myself with people who also had drinking or using problems in order to minimize mine and perpetuate my denial. I also used every excuse in the book to justify my drinking: “If you had a family like mine, you’d be like this,” or “If you had the day I had, you’d drink too,” or “You wouldn’t believe the way this person spoke to me today!”
What do you consider your bottom?
A monumental binge of 14 bottles of wine and countless pills over the course of one weekend left me sick for two nights on the bathroom floor. I knew I’d had enough and I had two choices: die or get into recovery. I chose recovery. I have no idea how.
Did you go to rehab?
No. I did a detox on my bathroom floor.
Have you worked the 12 steps? What is your opinion on them?
Yes and I’m working through them for the third time.
My opinion? I think that they are magical. When properly instructed and applied, they are powerful and completely life changing! The process of looking at your demons and defects of character gives you an understanding of your disease as a fear based illness, which is routed in self-centeredness and feelings of worthlessness. What I find particularly important is taking responsibility for harm you may have caused and taking actions to amend your behavior. I have been making amends, like payments, for the last three years and will continue to do so, for the foreseeable future.
Regularly reviewing my day is so beneficial to see not only where old behaviors can creep back in—this is a chronic condition centered in my thinking—but also to positively review what I have achieved. It is still my default position to tell myself that I’ve had a terrible day and that there is nothing positive to write about. But when I take five minutes to look at what I’m doing right, I increase my self-esteem.
Passing on what I have learned is a demonstration of my humility. My first sponsor described humility as “everything in its right size.” I believe that I am no more or less important than anyone else. I feel it’s my duty to give what was so freely given to me, especially to a scared, confused newcomer.
Having said that, I also firmly believe in holistic recovery. I am an avid reader of Holly Whitaker and Laura McKowen who blog at Hip Sobriety and I Fly By Night, respectively. They run their blogs, a podcast and a sobriety school founded in non-12-step recovery. They hit the nail on the head in terms of the fundamental elements required for recovery: some form of therapy to work through your stuff, yoga and meditation, writing, healthy eating, a fellowship/network of sorts, creative outlets and learning effective coping strategies.
What do you hate about being an alcoholic?
That sometimes I cannot believe my first thoughts. That I have to sift through what is going on for me, often working backwards from physical symptoms. That I can’t live normally and enjoy a civilized glass of wine with dinner. The amount of energy and time recovery requires. They say the first five years are the hardest and they weren’t lying! That addiction has taken so much of my young life. While my peers are married with children and successful careers, I’m still in a lot of debt, sharing a house and have limited disposable income.
What do you love about being an alcoholic?
Recovery gives me the space between my thoughts and actions. It gives me time to think. Time to pause and time to reflect. I no longer sit in resentment and fear. I live my life. I fill that chasm with loving, healthy and nurturing activities. I now love myself. I know how to self-soothe and implement radical self-care.
What are the three best tools you have acquired to stay sober and happy?
Writing. It’s invaluable. I started from day one. In the morning I connect with my feelings and write a plan for the day, reflecting on a reading. In the evening I review my day, citing my successes, what I have done for my recovery, three things I’m grateful for and a moment of happiness to put into my happiness jar.
Meetings and fellowship. Any kind of empathetic recovery/support group that encourages sharing in a non-judgmental, safe environment, as identification with other addicts is essential.
Working the steps. They say that the rooms can get you clean/sober, but the steps will get you well.
Do you have a sobriety mantra?
Not exactly, but I try to remember suggestion I’ve heard, such as: knowing if I’m experiencing HALT (hungry, angry, lonely, tired); that my first thought is usually wrong; that feelings are not facts; that I have a disease that tells me I don’t have it.
What is the most valuable thing that has happened to you in recovery?
That I have peace of mind, most of the time. The fear dissipates, the feelings of worthlessness disintegrate and I’m left with the me I was always meant to be.
If you could offer a newcomer or someone thinking about getting sober any advice, what would it be?
If you have truly had enough, or even a desire to stop, go to a meeting. If you don’t like one, try another. Listen. Try and take some time out to focus entirely on your recovery. It’s a cliché, but attend 90 meetings in 90 days, get a sponsor and work the steps. Take a leap of faith and give it a try. As they say, if you’re not happy, your misery will be refunded!
Invest in some radical self-care; develop a comfort list, write, ask for help, develop a support network, talk, look after your body. Rest. Sleep. Trust. Together, we can do this!
Any additional thoughts?
I believe that addiction has many facets. I believe that sooner or later everything stops working: excessive TV, relationships, sex, food, or co-dependency and then you’re left with you. In my addiction, I gained 140 pounds. In my third year of recovery, I tackled this with the help of a coach and I share my journey on Liv’s Locomotion. I hope to share my experience, strength and hope around this subject and to be of benefit to all the people in recovery struggling with this problem.
Photo courtesy of Olivia; used with permission. Click here to see all of our How I Got Sober stories.
Sponsored DISCLAIMER: This is a paid advertisement for California Behavioral Health, LLC, a CA licensed substance abuse treatment provider and not a service provided by The Fix. Calls to this number are answered by CBH, free and without obligation to the consumer. No one who answers the call receives a fee based upon the consumer’s choice to enter treatment. For additional info on other treatment providers and options visit www.samhsa.gov.
