A Sober Mind
Warning: contains talk of suicide and alcohol addiction so please call Lifeline Australia 13 11 14, a trusting friend/family member or seek advice from your GP if this is something you are struggling with. There is help available but I am not a professional. This is my personal experience.
“Hi my name is Emily and I’m an alcoholic” I hesitantly say to three strangers staring at me around a table at 7.30pm on a Monday night in Broome. Attending my first AA meeting at 23 years old was not part of my plan. But neither was attempting to end my life. It felt completely insane but also a first glimpse of hope.
Three months before this meeting I woke up in a hospital bed. Very heavy headed, shaking convulsively and crying uncontrollably as I got a vague flash back from last night’s actions and l saw my younger sister staring at me. The frightened look on her face hit me like a train. A close friend of mine sitting on the other side of the bed, squeezing my hand and tears rolling down her cheeks. This was rock bottom. Not my first either, but I knew that this one was going to either make or break me. My soul was broken and I had nothing left in me to fight the battle in my head. I have always been a fighter but it was time to surrender.
Alcohol is a depressant and I was already depressed. I was self-medicating with nights of binge drinking, attempting to numb the pain of the past and a relationship break up. Being a very sensitive person, feeling everything very deeply, I have never been able to drink, always suffering from the worst hangover anxiety and normally 3–5 days of extreme tiredness and unable to function as an adult. I was slowly drinking my way to death each time I picked up a drink. I was drinking spirits to find the spirit within me. Always searching for a place of peace. Alcohol did numb the pain. It temporarily blocked the hateful, doubtful and overthinking voice in my head. For a couple of hours, I felt “normal”. But eventually, the euphoric feeling that alcohol provided stopped working. I knew I was in danger when I picked up a drink that night in August last year. Months of agonising thoughts and memories were replaying in my mind. Ignoring any warning signs my intuition was giving me. Any rational thinking was gone. I was home alone and drinking straight from the wine bottle. I decided to go out because I could not be alone. I was surrounded by people but still feeling so very lonely. At 3am when I got home, my heart was racing as I obsessively kept thinking “it is time to end this pain”. I didn’t want to feel anymore. I was exhausted. I grabbed my medication and drove in blackout to the beach. I swallowed all of the tablets, feeling a sense of relief and remember thinking I had to run as far as I can so nobody could find me. I felt like a burden to everyone. I hated myself. I was scared of living. And I didn’t want to die, I just didn’t want to feel this emotional pain anymore. Police found me in the early hours of the morning and I was rushed to hospital in an ambulance.
My family and friends mean the world to me but in that drunken state of mind nothing else mattered more than ending the pain. It has taken me a long time to find the courage to write about this because of the shame, guilt and remorse I have been feeling and the pain I caused to those who love and care about me deeply. However, living in ignorance will not help myself or others realise the importance of looking after our mental health, tuning into our body and being brave enough to do what is best for us. Depression, anxiety and addiction are very real, but so is the love and support that surrounds us. It is important I speak openly about this. I don’t want others to go through all of this to realise how loved and cared for they are. I was struggling, I knew I needed help and my heart was broken seeing the pain I had caused my family and friends. It was time to stop fighting and time to start changing.
I speak about my first attempt of sobriety in the book I am writing. I felt like I was the only person my age not drinking, up against Australia’s drinking culture (and we are the best in the world). Going to the first AA meeting I quickly realised that there is a whole community of people who have recovered from alcoholism and living a sober life. I went with an open mind but couldn’t help thinking “what the fuck am I doing here?”. I was the youngest in the room by at least 15 years. One man shared his story about celebrating 30 years of sobriety and gave up alcohol at the same age as me. “Wow” I thought, listening in awe and completely blown away that maintaining a happy and healthy life without drinking is possible. The other two had been sober for 9 years and attended their first meeting around the same age as me too. I shared my story to the group and spoke confidently about my desire to remain sober as I poured my heart out about the pain, confusion and isolation I was feeling.
For those of you who are unaware (don’t worry, I had no idea either), AA stands for Alcoholic Anonymous. It is an international fellowship of men and women who have problems with drinking. It is self-supporting and the only requirement for membership is the desire to stop drinking. To be totally honest, my idea of an alcoholic was the homeless person swigging from a bottle at 10am. I didn’t think I even qualified to be part of AA because I could go days and sometimes weeks without a drink. I am a very self-motivated person. I was able to maintain friendships and relationships, exercise and work, but when it came to alcohol and the nights of binge drinking, I was completely powerless and it was ruining my life. My mental health was deteriorating rapidly with each weekend of late-night drinking. I was the girl who encouraged everyone to do shots, always worrying about where to get my next drink. I was drinking to get drunk, otherwise I did not see the point of it. I have no self-control when it comes to alcohol. I cannot moderate. Promising myself and my Mum that I wouldn’t get drunk and that this time would be different, but hours later coming home highly intoxicated, usually crying, and the following day I would be a very depressing, anxious and angry person to be around. Alcohol changed me. I hated how I felt the next day, always saying “I am never drinking again” but always forgetting I said that and the same thing would happen the following weekend. The addictive nature of alcohol is something I thought I could control but I was very wrong.
It took me multiple relapses and attempts at moderate drinking to finally realise that entire abstinence is needed. My willpower stopped working for alcohol and my recovery required spiritual surrender. Initially, what I thought was just about learning to say no to alcohol, has become a total shift in mindset and spiritual expansion. My thirst for alcohol was a thirst for connection with my higher self. I had a soul sickness and the only way to claim my power back that alcohol stole, is through spiritual action. This is a very practical thing to do. Looking into our behaviours and attitudes, the people we spend time with and having the courage to change this. The most spiritual thing we can do is love ourselves. For me, it has been about breaking down my own barriers and finding the confidence to speak truthfully about my needs and wants. Being unafraid to go against the norm because I know that drinking hinders any growth or freedom I find. Something in me has shifted. The insights I have gained and connections I have made with new people since being sober is incredible. I have so much clarity and calmness within me. I feel wholesome. Not to say I don’t struggle, but being sober allows me to understand that this too shall pass. I believe that sobriety is creating a beautiful, fulfilling and nourishing future for me. I am working with a sponsor to go through the 12-step program, practicing meditation and prayer each morning, exercising most days and being kind to myself. I am in a place of peace that nothing or nobody could ever take away from me. I now know that everything I have ever needed has always been within me.
