by RE Helper | Jul 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Kristie K. Kristie has been a member of Café RE since December 31, 2019. She can be found supporting her fellow Café RE GO members and hosting our Café RE chats.
Not Much Can Grow in the Dark
By: Kristie K. (Café RE GO)
1.12.24
During these Winter months night time darkness cuts the daylight dramatically. The short days are gray and cold. Darkness when I wake. Darkness when I sleep. I can not change these things of nature but I can change myself and my perspective. I knew the darkness of nature was coming, so I mentally prepared and took action in writing this.
When I was drinking, many of my days were dark. My world was dark. My soul was dark.
There was not much to look forward to other than the next drink. It was a cycle of wanting and needing the next drink. I drank the dark. The world was heavy and dark as I attempted to do everything for the good of the family, community or students. My life was a daily grind filled with to dos, lists and tasks. Always in a rush, I gave of myself, my time and my energy. No self. Instead of breathing, I was drinking. I rarely took a moment to breathe. I neglected myself, forgot who I was and slowly I began to die within. The darkness grew.
Funny thing about the darkness of addiction, it only let me see what it wanted me to see and not my true reality.
My perception was framed by an addiction black bubble that protected itself and forced me to keep it alive. As the addiction grew, so did the black bubble. It darkened and blacked out people, activities, opportunities and the joy from my life. At the center of this bubble was loneliness, anxiety, depression, self loathing and an empty bottle. Others did not see this because I was busy pleasing them. I was helping, offering, volunteering, coaching, fundraising and performing as your classic high functioning addict…another darkness strategy.
Now, I spend every morning with myself.
I write, read and reflect. I spend about 30 minutes alone in the morning with myself and myself only. My daily intention is to connect with the light. The light that is constant, warm and wraps me in love. This connection grounds me in values, principles and love. This connection helps me see how life is working for me and I have much to be grateful. This light reminds me that I have light within me through strengths, skills and talents. I can use these to create more love, kindness and goodness into the world. The light is constant, warm and bright.
With this daily practice, I was and still able to face the darkness. I was able to face my addiction through this daily practice by finally taking action after many years of denial. I started to listen to podcasts and read about alcohol. After about a year of journaling, I joined Cafe RE and attended my first AA meeting.
Darkness is part of life. Darkness is natural and will continue to be a part of life. Addiction showed me darkness and provided me light, love, friends, peace and a return to self. Mother Nature provides me darkness, to retreat and rest so I can renew within. I accept and respect the darkness. Not much can grow in the dark…so I chose to seek the light. Will you join me?
Surise on 🌅
Kristie
by RE Helper | Jun 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Justine. Justine has been a member of Café RE since November 2023. She can be found supporting her fellow Café RE UP members and on the Café RE chats.
Sobriety, Stigmas and Smiles
By: Justine (Café RE UP)
As I sit here today, I am 2 years and 11 months sober. A few months ago, I decided to tackle the daunting task of beginning to date again. As if dating in your thirties isn’t hard enough, I am one of the chosen ones who must add “alcoholic” to my resume. I know some people choose not to embrace that label. When I first started my sober journey, I wouldn’t be caught dead calling myself an alcoholic.
But where I stand today, I say it purposefully.
I want anyone I tell that to to know that if they ever see me drinking, there is a serious problem.
Just another way to keep myself accountable.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, when I decided to date, I knew that I would have to share the part of my past I so desire to change, my alcoholism. It is something I bring up in the first conversation. I began seeing someone exclusively for the past five weeks. A few days ago, he let me know that he could no longer do it because it weighed too heavily on his mind to know that if I were to relapse, he could never support me through it. Phew! As an outsider, you’re probably thinking I dodged a bullet. And deep down, I know that I did.
Here is the thing. My first reaction was that of sickness. What a punch to the gut to know that something I have worked so hard to change about myself can STILL stand in the way of my happiness. For the last 1,072 days, I have woken up and made the incredibly difficult choice to remain sober.
If I could go back and re-write my past, I would do it in a heartbeat; But I can’t. My past is the one thing I will never be able to change. This experience served to remind me that the stigma of alcoholism still exists so prevalently in our society. It felt like someone was telling me that I will forever be undeserving of (their) love because I am an alcoholic. That no matter the length of time I have away from the bottle, there will always be someone there to remind me, “But hey, you might relapse.”
I’ve been reflecting a lot on coming up on three years of sustained sobriety. I’ve shared in a few evening groups about how difficult it feels to have achieved so little in what seems like so much time. In the Café RE community chat today, I listened while others reflected on change within sobriety. I changed a lot in the beginning. My appearance, my career, my location. Still, I am not where I want to be. The truth of the matter is, it took me more than a decade to ruin these parts of my life. So, I’m not sure why I have the audacity to think I can rebuild it in just three short years.
Instead of dwelling on what I don’t yet have, I started to reflect on what I do have.
- I have two sisters who love and support me unconditionally, who understand and are always willing to lend an ear.
- I have my health and the ability to run long distances with relative ease.
- I have perspective on my problems.
- I have coping mechanisms other than alcohol to deal with those problems.
- I have the ability to be present in the moment and a proper role model for my nieces.
- I have two fur babies who provide me with the most comfort I have ever felt.
- I have a job that pays me.
- I have a roof over my head, food to eat, clothes to wear and the ability to order off Amazon a few too many times per month.
I have my personality and most importantly, I have my smile back.
In active addiction, I did not have many of those things I just mentioned. When I write it all out, how foolish it is to think that I haven’t achieved much in sobriety! Here is my reminder to you. If you are struggling with the “why” and want to take the easy way out, write down all the things you might lose again. Despite not yet being completely “fixed”, I would never in a million years wish to go back to my old life. I want to take a second to thank everyone in the Recovery Elevator community for being a part of my journey. At the beginning, I was most definitely a dry drunk.
If I could start over and do one thing differently, it would have been to join a community sooner. What great perspectives I gain every day from every single share. Here’s to many more years of sobriety and smiles.
by RE Helper | May 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, Helpful Tips, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Johanna C. Johanna has been a member of Café RE since September 2023. Sha has been an active and supportive member of her Café RE Blue group and our Café RE chats!
Playing The Tape Forward: A Foundation For My Sobriety
By: Johanna C. (Café RE Blue)
Through the course of a sobriety journey, we’ve become accustomed to the concept of building a tool kit. Stacking together concepts, ideas, and ways of coping that don’t include alcohol as a way to navigate to a better life and get closer to our true selves.
There are sobriety phrases, some albeit corny or even annoying.
For me, it’s the “grateful alcoholic” identity (ps I am getting comfortable with the word grateful as it relates to my sobriety journey). There may be one (or more) that are uncomfortable or downright piss you off. One concept that I learned from Paul & the Recovery Elevator POD, that still to this day, 3 months in (today, November 18th), on an extended 3+year effort towards an AF life, is playing the tape forward. Episode 356: Play the Tape Forward.
It’s not so much a phrase, but a tool, a strategy.
A mechanism through which we can move through our addiction and keep saying YES to an AF life. Despite our time away from alcohol, there are moments or even extended periods of time when we feel like a life with alcohol isn’t so bad, that we can moderate. The fear of missing out is too great and the loss of that idealistic, glamorized life with a fancy glass of wine, a craft beer or a seductive cocktail with fancy elixirs mixed in, is what we want. It’s what we think we need to be complete.
Or when the stress and sadness are too much, and we want to retreat into our safe space of numbing, alcohol is ready to accept that familiar role. The reality is, that space is not safe. There is no trust. It’s downright dangerous.
And for those of us who have taken a step into the other side, regardless of sobriety time, see it. And the challenge now is to make it stick somehow. So…when we play the tape forward of what that life was like, it’s meant to stop us in our tracks and remember. Remember that all too familiar audio and visual representation of who we are when we’re drinking. The choices I made, the sick feeling I would feel, the events I would miss, the friends I would disappoint, the depression that would consume me – the list goes on.
When we’re in it, we can’t see it.
Of course, we experience and feel the booming headaches, the continuous, all-day nausea, the puffy face, the bloodshot eyes, the inner shame and fuzzy recollections of what occurred the night(s) prior. I’ve come to realize, there is a strong sense of culture that paints that picture as an expected way of life.
That it’s somehow funny to blackout.
Waking up not knowing what you did last night and that when we promise we’ll never drink again, it’s quite fine when we reach for the wine and wine glass the next weekend when happy hour hits. Social media is a breeding ground for insidious shit like that. We feel all of it and it sucks. But in the depths of alcohol and its tendrils that permeate every part of our being, when we’re using, it prevents any of us from seeing the other side. I’ve learned, in many ways, it’s chemically impossible.
What playing the tape forward does is remind me. It grounds me. It calms me, in some way. For some, it terrifies them. It terrified me early on. It felt like there was too much to lose.
Some of us feel like we would let our communities down.
And now, after joining Cafe RE and participating actively for the last 2 months (I’m a newbie), in chats and outreaches to those who’ve lent a hand, I look at it this way: if I decide that drinking is most important now, as these feelings of re-inclusion come over me from time to time, then what does that mean? What do I have to give up? Who am I then?
It means that I will not and cannot live authentically every moment of every day.
That in a blink of a notice, if someone needs me, and I am drunk or drinking, I won’t be fully present. Even though I may want to. It means that at some point, eventually, one glass will turn into bottles. This will lead to paralyzing depression and anxiety, leaving me wondering, “How did I get here.”
When we play the tape forward, we see the life we left. We get the opportunity to choose an alcohol-free life every time. A life of freedom and rid of the toxicity that drives us further and further away from who we really are.
Before I say this, please know that I am in no way suggesting to experiment. The 8 months of “field research” that I engaged in after 1.5 years of sobriety in led me to the familiar line, “how did I get here (again)”. It has taught me that it WILL eventually return to that point. It took some time, but I had reached that point, again, amidst a tragic loss.
Alcohol fades our memories.
It dulls our feelings, loves us to live in gray versus technicolor. It feeds on us living in a depressive state. And that, I know (and we all know) is an indisputable fact. As I write this, I tear up with emotion. Reflecting on this 3+ year journey and the lessons it has allowed me to learn. The space for me to, for the first time in my adult life, truly decide how I want to live. And most importantly why I want to live that way.
I recently took advice from Laura McKowen, from her latest book ‘Push Off From Here.’
She writes about a practice she learned in therapy, a form of written visualization, where you play two different tapes forward (hmm… I thought there was only one…). Laura explains that you are to imagine a scenario where you would anticipate feeling that without alcohol/drinking, it would be incomplete, not fun, boring etc.
Then, with as much detail as possible, write each scenario out one at a time: one where you’re drinking as you would and one where you aren’t. Page 93 in Push Off From Here.
I chose Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Holy Shit was that wild.
When I was drinking, those two days were ones that I would always regret, year in and year out. My first sober Christmas Eve and Day – a true milestone. A moment I will always include in my preferred tape forward. Through this exercise, I was able to reflect on the tape that illustrates my life as an anxiety-ridden, unpredictable and obsessive drinker. And then one where I am a present, joyful, thankful and gracious person. One who loves spending time with their family during the holidays and cooking delicious meals, despite the stress it sometimes brings on.
Writing it out, playing both tapes forward, as plain as day on paper, did wonderful things. It caused some things to shift. Mostly, it made space for me to be proud of the choice I’ve made to stay alcohol-free today. It reminds me of the gifts it gives me each moment. It empowers me to warrior on, closer to the person I already am.
By Johanna C, 3 months sober (at the time of writing), most recent sober date August 18th, 2023. First ever sober date was June 22, 2020, a date I am proud of as well. I’ve been a member of Cafe RE since September 18th 2023. That day was the day when I decided not to try sobriety alone 🙂
by RE Helper | Apr 15, 2024 | Alcohol Free, Blog, Early Sobriety, The first Year, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Ana. Ana has been a member of Café RE since April 2023 and is an active and supportive member of her Café RE OG group!
Staying Hopeful Through This Long Journey
By: Ana (Café RE OG)
Around 4 years ago, when I finally admitted I needed to tackle my drinking problem, I truly believed I wouldn’t be able to go a single day without alcohol.
It was scary.
It’s taken a lot of work; programs; books; podcasts; tears; failures; dollars; etc., but I’m pleased to say I’m on a good path to recovery.
Lately I’ve been feeling stuck though.
For the last 2 years or so, I’ve been trapped in the same cycle: I go about 3 months without alcohol. I don’t miss it; I hate it; I gag thinking of the taste. One day I get the nagging idea that I can drink moderately, like I used to.
I don’t want to go back to drinking, even in moderation. I just HAVE to prove to myself that I can, just one final time. I then try, it doesn’t work, and I end up back to square one with a new horrible story under my belt (I’m a binge drinker). It doesn’t make any sense – it’s my brain tricking me into drinking at all costs.
It usually goes like this:
I haven’t drunk in months and I feel great, so I’m CERTAIN it will be different this time. I never go out and order a cocktail or a nice glass of wine though. I buy a pint of the cheapest vodka at the liquor store across the street; rush home; and take around 3 shots asap.
I tell myself it’s sort of the same amount as a martini, therefore I had just a martini, therefore I’m “normal” (nothing wrong with one martini, right?).
Or I’ll buy a single serve can of wine at the market downstairs. I’ll chug it as soon as I walk out of the market; can’t even wait the elevator ride back home.
I tell myself it’s one serving, one generously poured glass; therefore, I had just one glass, therefore I’m “normal”.
Obviously, nothing about this is normal. Most times, I succeed and stop drinking that day. This should be the proof I was looking for, so this should be the end of the story. But I wake up the next day feeling hungover; guilty; and defeated. I go to the market and chug a can of wine by 9 a.m. to numb the crappy feelings.
Sometimes that does me in; sometimes I go a couple more days playing with fire like this.
Eventually I ALWAYS lose control and end up in yet another life-altering, humiliating binge.
This is a cycle I haven’t been able to break yet, and I so want to change that. Today I was at that crossroads. On Wednesday night I had my 3 shots of nasty Skol vodka (my “martini”). Thursday morning I felt wretched, so I eventually caved and had chugged a can of wine by lunch time. I miraculously didn’t drink on Friday. On Saturday though, the nagging discomfort was unbearable. I had some vodka in the afternoon.
My boyfriend was picking me up at 6 to go to a party. The risk of him finding out I’d been drinking and ruining the evening and further damaging our relationship didn’t stop me from having a can of wine dangerously close to 6. I felt miserable at the party, trying to act normal and not get caught. I just wanted to come home so I could have another can of wine before bed. To my annoyance, when my boyfriend drove me home, he wanted to come upstairs and hang out. I couldn’t wait for him to leave (how sad), and I got my can of wine as soon as he left.
Today is Sunday. I woke up, you guessed it, hungover and depressed. Every Sunday morning I volunteer at an animal shelter. On a similar Sunday, I would’ve stopped at a Walgreens on my way and bought/chugged a can of wine. In the afternoon, I would’ve stopped at one of the many liquor stores I’ve memorized on my route home. And that would’ve been the beginning of a dreaded binge.
I kept thinking the eventual binge was unavoidable. I even wondered if I should just get it over with, instead of torturing myself. I had to try harder, do things differently.
I played an episode of the Recovery Elevator podcast on my way to the shelter.
I picked one titled “What to say to someone who is about to drink” – fitting, I thought.
The guest’s name was Grant. His story is very different from mine, but also VERY similar. It brought back lots of harsh memories, as well as many insights I needed to hear today. Paul and Grant praised the several guests who have gone on the podcast with around 2 months’ sobriety. It felt good to hear someone acknowledge how difficult and admirable it is to cobble up 2 months. But it also felt frustrating. I’ve been a “two-monther” for 2 years now; I desperately want to graduate to the next stage! You know, the one where it gets easier!
In AA they talk about one day at a time. Today was more like one hour at a time. The Recovery Elevator podcast and conscious shift in mindset helped, but the day still felt like an endless minefield. It was sad to drive past my liquor stores and not stop. One even had an open parking spot right in front, like it was meant to be! I stopped for gas and found myself browsing the wine/beer section (I bought a Gatorade instead). I sat in my car when I got home, considering walking to the market, or even the liquor store.
I feel happy and relieved to report that I didn’t drink today.
I feel like crap, but I know tomorrow I’ll feel better thanks to today’s decisions, so I’m calling today a good day, a win. Abstinence is still my goal, so having broken my sober streak has me feeling defeated and upset.
But I have renewed hope: I did something different, and got different results. Maybe this is how I break the cycle.
by RE Helper | Mar 15, 2024 | Blog, Early Sobriety, Expectations, The first Year, Uncategorized
Today’s blog entry is from Danielle Marr. Danielle has been a member of Café RE since June 2023. Danielle taught our most recent Ditching the Booze: Writing a New Narrative Course and was one of the teachers in our REstore Dray January Course. She is an active and supportive member of her Café RE OG group!
Do It Scared
By: Danielle Marr (Café RE OG)
Last fall, I committed to teaching Ditching the Booze: Writing a New Narrative, a 5-week course inside of the Café RE community.
As I reflect on that experience, there is so much coming up for me. I was on day three when I reached out to the team to see if they would be interested in hosting a writing course or workshop and the timing could not have been better.
It was one of those serendipitous, Big Magic-type moments where something inside of me said, “do this,” even though it didn’t make sense at all.
I had three days of sobriety – who was I to try to lead a group of people in a course on sobriety?
But I jumped anyway.
It was almost like I was taken over by some unknown source of energy that made me hit send on that email. And, as it turned out, there was a gap that needed to be filled.
The person who normally hosts the fall installment of the Ditching The Booze course had told Paul the day prior that he was unable to do so this time around due to life circumstances. As Paul was working on an email to Kerri with ideas of alternative course suggestions, my email asking them if they were interested in the idea of a writing course landed in her inbox.
Like…what?!
So, we went for it. More than 250 people registered.
Taking a Big Leap of Faith Doesn’t Always Make Sense In The Beginning
I prepped as best I could, and I ran the course every Monday for five weeks. I did it, like…pooping my pants, holy heck, what have I gotten myself into, scared.
And I did it even though I knew I would be leading a group of people in something that was so new to me. A group of people, half of whom, had more than a year of sobriety under their belt.
But the thing was that, even though I didn’t have much sobriety time under MY belt yet, I believed so deeply in the work. I believe so deeply in the power of writing your own story. And I knew, through hearing so many other people’s stories, that service to others is an amazing way to contribute to your own sobriety journey.
I told myself again and again that if I could help even just one person take the next tiny little step on their recovery journey by learning how to unpack and write their own story, all of the fear and doubt I had in myself would be worth it.
That didn’t make it any less terrifying though.
I have never had the confidence or self-trust to consider myself a teacher or a leader. I’m sure that was somewhat apparent to the participants in the class. But, the thing is, there is only one way to grow and that was a beautiful opportunity for me to work on my growth. Leading writing workshops and courses in the recovery space is something I want to do a whole heck of a lot more of moving forward.
When You Allow Yourself to Take The First Step, The Rest of The Journey Gets a Little Bit Easier
I led one of the classes for the January REStore course. I was able to tackle it from a place of experience, and a little bit more confidence.
But the first step was doing it scared.
Doing it without knowing how it would land.
Having sweaty palms and a racing heart, but showing up anyway.
I was able to do that because of the amazing support and faith that both Paul and Kerri showered me with leading up to and throughout the course. And the feedback that we got on the course was, to put it lightly, phenomenal. That last call will go down in the books as one of my most powerful sobriety moments thus far.
The thank you’s, and the beautiful, brave souls speaking up to say how much they had been looking forward to Monday nights all month long, among other wonderful acknowledgements truly warmed my heart in a way I don’t know I can ever fully express.
I started thinking about some of this after we got off that last call. And while I didn’t say it at the moment, I knew I needed to write about it.
Because it is such a beautiful representation of what it takes to quit drinking in the first place.
When we are so wrapped up in addiction, and we’ve been living a life consumed by that substance for so long, we don’t know what life is going to look like when we quit.
And that is an unbelievably terrifying prospect.
From the fear of what will happen to our bodies and what the withdrawal process will look like. How we will fill our days and who will want to spend time with us. It’s all such a big, hairy, scary unknown.
You have to do it scared to get to the other side.
Leap Without The Net & Trust That The Person You Are About to Become Will Be There to Catch You
You have to leap without the net. And then hope the version of you that you are about to become will be there to catch you. (Along with a truly amazing sobriety community if you happen to be part of something like Cafe RE).
You have to have so much visceral trust in yourself and the reason why you are doing it.
So, my message to anyone reading this is that if something is calling to you in your heart – whether it’s taking the leap to quit drinking or putting yourself out there by joining a community and opening up after months or years of self-isolation, or even applying for a job – do it scared.
Take the leap and trust that the net will appear.
Know that it might not go the way that you expect it to go.
That there will be hiccups. Moments of two steps forward and one step back. And you will probably feel like you have no idea what you are doing. But if it is something you know so deeply in your heart is going to be worth it, even if wading through the darkness of the unknown seems like the most terrifying prospect in the world right now, try anyway.
The time will pass one way or the other, but if you try, and you really give it your best effort, you will be proud of yourself. You’ll know that you did what you could with the resources you had available to you at the time. You’ll know that you showed up for yourself in ways that you’ve never done before.
You can so totally do this. Even if you’re scared.
