How I Stopped Hating Myself: Lessons in Sobriety
When I was growing up, it was clear to me, and others, that I had some self-esteem issues. Normal for me was doubting when people were being genuine, feeling constantly low and in a battle to see anything worthwhile in the shell of skin I was walking around in, and some days, most days actually, I hated myself and everything about me. Almost 25 years of self-medicating with booze and drugs as an adult, and I finally gave myself the first, most important act of self-love that I could, giving up the drinks and the drugs, and that’s when I learned just how much I hated myself.
It was a summer like any other before it, a mess of late nights that bled into early mornings, my mind weighing if I stop and get a little sleep, or if I try to make it to work. I worked in a kitchen at a hotel restaurant, it wasn’t busy most days, and I could usually muster up the energy to make it through my shifts without anyone knowing what was really going on in my life. Most of the staff were drinkers, and this job was chosen so that I could keep up with my hectic lifestyle of using. At the end of my shift, I’d have a drink at the bar, to congratulate myself for making it through another dismal day, and give myself the energy for the two block walk home. Except it usually wasn’t one drink. I have always been socially awkward, and I told myself those drinks at the bar with a coworker were the social lubricant I needed to open up to people, but that opening up would always lead into picking up more drinks, or calling my guy and getting myself a treat.
In the mornings, which usually came around lunchtime, I’d continue to feel as awkward as I was sober, and hated how alone I was, how stupid I felt that I wasn’t good enough, how bad I always looked, how awful my life was, and how I screwed up everything in my life.
That was my routine, for days on end, and the only thing that made me not hate myself for any length of time was drinking and drugging. If you tell yourself everyday that you are worthless, you find reinforcement of that in every small inconvenience, every minor mistake, and every failed interaction. I finally got to the point so dark, so lonely, so disappointed in myself that I couldn’t stand one more day like this and I knew that I couldn’t live like this anymore. I could either keep feeling like this, or quit every substance and see what could change. Any addict will tell you when you finally decide you need help, that help needs to be right away, so I started calling. Locally, it was long waits, after long waits, call after call. A province away however, it was a different story. I called a friend, told him I was ready to make a change, and the next morning my phone rang, and a bed was waiting for me at Together We Can, I just needed to make it there. That’s when I went into work, and opened up to my boss about everything. I guess at that moment, I thought so little of myself, that it didn’t matter how the conversation went, I was going to leave anyways, but what I got back after a conversation full of realness was amazing. Instead of the rejection I expected, I got support, and that’s when the first bright moment occurred for my self-esteem.
Here I was hating everything about that moment, about myself, and every single thing that I had overthought, and every word I told myself that no one cared, no one would notice. Instead, here was Andrew, my boss, being supportive, working to help me find a way to get out to Vancouver. Telling me that I was valued, that I was welcome back, and that if I needed something, he will be there. It was unexpected. It was supportive, someone cared about me more than myself, and the realization came to me, I was so wrong about myself.
I came to Vancouver two weeks later, a friend and coworker drove me three hours to the next major city so I could catch a bus for the 15 hour trip to Vancouver, all the while we chatted about how I was making the right choice and she was genuinely happy to see me take care of myself. I had my doubts about being successful, based on some self-fulfilling idea that I was going to succeed because 12-step drug & alcohol support groups hadn’t done anything for my success. But I knew I had to try, I wasn’t going to give up on myself just yet. Here I was, in a new city, known for one of the worst drug problems in North America, and I was newly sober, alone with my thoughts, and very much out of my element.
As the days turned into weeks, maybe I wasn’t a failure, maybe I was under the influence of something that I could escape, and I started to feel proud. That sensation was my self esteem as it started to grow,and maybe, it was all due to an act of self-love. I was sober, and it was amazing. How did I used to live the way I had been? Head buried in the sand, and keeping myself there. Looking back wasn’t all delightful though.
I thought of all the times I’d been black out drunk or high, thought of all the embarrassments, and all the failures, times where I humiliated myself, or blew off invitations from the people who did care about me. It was haunting, all the bad, all the missed opportunity to get out of the life I was keeping myself in, and it chipped away at the boost I had been getting from being sober.
While people I knew for years were staying fit, going to school, building families and excelling at work, my life was stagnant, held in place by the constant thought that I wouldn’t, couldn’t do more, that I wasn’t smart enough, good enough, or worth enough. It didn’t seem to matter what it was that I tried, vowed, started, or claimed that I loved — none of it ever took up any real time, space, energy or passion. It was all me and that cycle of self-worth and escaping it the only way I knew how. I treated myself like I was worthless, and my life was a direct reflection of what I told myself. No wonder my life was going nowhere, it’s hard to accomplish anything when you can’t function because of your addiction and the inevitable come-down.
Now that I’m on the other side, in sobriety, I’m back in school, in a great relationship and have some really supportive friends and colleagues at work who challenge me to be better each day than the day before. And, while it has taken me time to get here, that voice in my head still comes back now and then to whisper nonsense that I’m not good enough, that I don’t deserve happiness. When it does, I remind myself that knowing I hated myself is hard, but actively hating yourself is harder, and having visited both sides of that, I know where I want to be. I’ll never know why I let the darkness carry on for so long, but I never want to go back there. I don’t want to be alone, using, questioning everything, and hoping for the end. I want to be here, active in life, feeling good, and accomplishing things like going to school. It is always going to be difficult remembering the past, but because of it I get to grow.
If you’re stuck in a place where you think you aren’t worth it, trust me when I say I know how loud that voice is, but let my experience be a voice that speaks even louder. You are worth it, you can do this, and you are loved. Even more than that, you can learn to love yourself, it is real, and it is as good as you imagine. It all starts with putting down that crutch, and reaching out.
