Living In My Truth Has Taught Me That Sober Is The New Cool
As I celebrated 8 years of sobriety recently, I was mindfully reflecting on what it all means to me. The theme that kept coming to the forefront of my mind was that this lifestyle just works for me. Every day I feel that I’m living a life that feels genuine down to my core.
Living in my truth has been a journey of epic proportions.
For the longest time when I was drinking and using cocaine, I tried to tell myself it was the norm. Everyone, including the cool kids whom I had gladly joined forces with, was doing it.
I told myself that binging and sunrise crusading was all part of being social and having a good time. That feeling my feelings was something I was suppose to run from with a vengeance. Because who wants to really feel what it’s like to be a human?
I had come to terms with feeling like my anxiety and subsequent depression was a small price to pay for being a full-time party girl.
All the while, this voice inside me kept gently reminding me and nudging me to stretch for something different. I knew, deep down, that the way I was living didn’t truly feel right, at least not in the sober hours when my mind wasn’t jaded.
Everything was superficially fine and dandy as I added tally marks to the number of eight balls and vodka bottles I had consumed. I was living in a dazed reality where numbing out my sadness and unhappiness seemed like the best antidote for a broken heart and a timid existence.
Because when I was high and drunk I felt alive. Or so I thought at least.
And in those moments when the come down was extra real, I would proceed to tell myself how much of a loser I was and that we, this party girl inside my body which didn’t seem connected to my head, were not going to do this again.
However, after having slept off this repeated empty promise, I would quickly forget the painful truth of the addiction I was coping with as I went to score my next bag of tricks.
I think so many people who want to get sober or make a change in their life, struggle with this:
The feeling that you know you need to change, but you try to talk yourself out of this truth.
We try to rationalize the behaviors and habits that repeatedly let us know we are living outside of our truth.
There was a very long period of time where I kept trying to live in a way that I knew was not in alignment with what my heart was really saying. This sense of dishonestly lived inside all those times I was hung over, coming down and disheartened that I had done the very things I said I wouldn’t — over and over and over.
I didn’t want to accept that I couldn’t moderate. That my version of “normal” was, in fact, not so normal. That I couldn’t go to a happy hour and not have that hour turn into an all night escapade.
That living with anxiety inside of depression came with a rather massive price tag after all.
Originally published at www.miraclesarebrewing.com on September 1, 2016.