The Basics
Photo ©2015 David Bivins
I got sober because it freaked me out that I couldn’t quit drinking when I tried to stop on my own. I knew I must be in too deep. And the reason I tried to stop in the first place was because I felt like my body was caving in on itself and I knew that there were two directions I could take: toward death or toward life.
Despite all that I resisted. I didn’t want to be deprived. I’m the kind of person who thinks if one is good, two is better. I always get the largest popcorn at the theater. Costco is like a dream come true. I have a favorite board game (Eurorails) and when they stopped making the version that I loved, I found a mint copy on eBay and I have it stashed away in a closet. Just in case.
I expected to feel deprived when I quit. I expected to miss that feeling of unwinding after a day of work. Or gulping down a cold beer after a long bike ride. Or getting buzzed with friends at a barbecue.
Turns out I don’t miss any of that, because none of that has actually changed (well, fewer barbecues in the last two years for sure). I still unwind, just not with alcohol. After biking, I gulp down water or an alcohol-free beer and I don’t get sluggish from it. And I enjoy every minute at the barbecue and don’t keep an eye on the time for when I can “reasonably” get another beer without it seeming weird to everyone else.
What I didn’t expect was how much better my life would get once I was sober. An entire aspect of my life that was hidden and shameful and secret is gone. My worries about my health have lost a key component. I feel more–the good and the bad and the meh. I’m available to myself and to the people I love. I’ve reconnected with an old (sober) friend, and now we have this in common and we talk every day, even if it’s just to check in. We didn’t have a connection this deep before.
I might be biased, but I don’t think there’s ever been a better time to be sober. Everywhere I turn, I meet sober people. Every time I say I don’t drink, someone pops up and says that they don’t either. I have old friends reaching out and saying “hey I heard you’re sober - me too.” Water or soda isn't the only option when I go to a bar to see a show.
The one sticky point is that I can’t take it for granted. I used a beverage delivery app the other day and ordered some alcohol-free beer that I like. They accidentally slipped an actual beer into one of the six-packs. It was one I used to drink a lot. When my kid was little he knew it was “daddy’s favorite beer.” I contacted customer service and gave them a polite what-for about it and got a partial refund. They actually wanted me to return it (a single 12-ounce bottle) which seemed ridiculous so I told them to just refund me and I’d pour it down the sink, which I did. As I opened it I thought about smelling it. Then I decided it wasn’t worth the curiosity. I’ve come this far. Why fuck with that?
I used to be addicted to the stuff, and maybe I still am. Maybe my brain would slip right back into that comfortable place. I don’t want to risk that.
I’ve built up so many tools. When I’m angry, I practice piano or slip into mindfulness, like a short meditation. Or sometimes I’m just angry and act out–but I don’t drink. When I’m tired I go to bed. When I’m with people who are drinking, I slip away when they start getting sloppy.
A lot of the things I’ve filled my life with since I got sober are things I enjoyed when I was drinking. Photography. Making music. Doing things with my family. They all bring me a lot more joy than when I was drinking.
I guess I just needed to write my “whys” again.
I love you,
David
