swing sober identity

If your new year resolution was to get sober, one of two things has happened. I am hopeful, for you, that it was success—statistics suggest otherwise.

If you find yourself in the “I’ve relapsed” category there is still good news. Failure provides us with an accurate gauge for our capacity to actually remain sober. For many of us, it’s haunting to realize that even when we try to commit to alcohol-free we pour that cocktail anyway—that night (or morning, whichever the case may be).

We simply do not understand how this can be. Where is our resolve for a better life? A better relationship with spouse, children, self? What’s happening? We can’t even tell you why. We can’t tell you why because we don’t understand either.

We start to get hopeless. How are we supposed to change something that we don’t feel we have control over? Everyone is telling us to stop, we want to stop (maybe, sort of), or at least moderate, yet we find our self back in the same predicament.

The story is so old it pains us to even talk about it anymore, to make promises anymore, to count days anymore.

The key, for me, was to use my failures as the guideline, use it to my benefit, not as a step down, but as a moment of clarity. I chose to see it as more information I was learning about me and what I was or was not capable of accomplishing on my own.

I first thought of getting sober (seriously getting sober) in April 2003. My daughter was born in January and by February 2003 I was back to drinking my pre-pregnancy quantities of wine. It took me less than 30 days to regain my tolerance for alcohol. I was as shocked as anyone. How could this be? I have a new born and I drink a bottle of wine each night.

I managed to live with my disgusted self until I got sober in March 2004. It was a long hard year of hearing the demons awaken. That first true realization that I might actually be an alcoholic somehow ushered in all my fears, all the voices. It seemed the more I tried to control them the more they controlled me. Alcohol became the obvious solution to all my alcohol problems. Yes, a puzzle of sorts.

My last, and clearest, failure was February 2004. I needed some vodka in my coffee mug as my husband had announced he would be going to the park with me and the kids. My bottled anger couldn’t cope with his presence. I had long since preferred his lack of attendance at any family function. (Apparently I found me and my demons more compatible, but that’s another story.)

This is the day my daughter hurt her leg on the slide. I wasn’t paying attention and she got hurt! Period.

Was I wasted?
No.
Was I a little drunk?
No.
Did I leave her unattended?
No.
Had I snuck away from her to drink?
No.

But I only had a shot or two of vodka. She can’t be hurt. I was holding her. She’s screaming. What the *** is going on? Why is this happening? I’ll take her home and give her medicine and she’ll be fine when she wakes up. I’ll be fine. I need a nap too.

But she wasn’t fine. She was a one year old girl who had learned to walk who was now crawling again, like a crab, because she couldn’t put weight on her leg. After a doctor visit (the following day, no vodka breath) she was diagnosed with torn tissue. I went home and cried and cried and cried.

She tried to stand 300 times and 300 times she fell. Devastation. Nothing but devastation. I had hurt my daughter.

And then I made my decision—
I drank.
First a glass of wine and then the bottle.
All was going to be okay—
Until the next morning.

When, once again, nothing was okay. What was I going to do with the latest of failures?

The only word that came to mind—help!

Were they failures? To this day I do not know. These days were the defining moments between my commitment to drinking and my commitment to sobriety. For me, looking back they are the win, not the loss.

I’ve never given up hope in what my failures can teach me about me—I seem to learn a little each day, and that’s okay.

There is always someone there to help. I just need to be willing to learn.

And the statistics, well they say that I will have a better chance of staying sober at year three than I will at year 16. I’m only in year 11, but I think it best to remain vigilant with my sobriety practices and principles.

I prefer smaller gaps now of days.

 

Lisa Neumann is a life skills and recovery coach in California. She coaches worldwide.
lisa@ogelcoaching.com