My First 60 Days of Sobriety
Author note: This was written on my 60th day of sobriety, but that has passed now. Still, the thoughts are true and relevant, so here they are.
In the Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) group I attend, you can’t volunteer to share your story until you’ve had at least 90 days of continuous sobriety. In my 60 days, I’ve come to respect this rule among the others. So I won’t share my entire story here today. But I do want to speak briefly of my overall experience with sobriety so far.
Sixty days may not seem like a lot. But for me it is. It is the longest I’ve gone without a drink for quite a number of years. But curiously, this time around, not picking up a drink hasn’t been that difficult really. There are probably a number of reasons for this that perhaps I’ll get into other time. No, the most difficult part of these first 60 days has been simply living with myself.
One of the promises AA makes is that you will leave your old self behind and forge a new self in sobriety. And that this new self will be joyous, happy, and free. That sounds wonderful, I see it in the old timers at my meetings, and it is something I want. But I perhaps want it too much. I find myself waking up sad, depressed, and anxious. I am fearful, though I can’t quite place what it is I am fearful of. It’s a strange feeling to live in. I no longer have booze to take me away from this feeling, so instead I sit with it. I meditate on it. I go to meetings and talk about it. And now I am here writing about it.
Today, I think I realized what makes up a huge part of my fear, anxiety, and sadness. And it’s related to that promise I spoke of above: that I will leave my old self behind and forge a new self. Here’s the crux of the problem, I don’t know who I was. How can I leave someone behind if I never knew them? It has manifested as a feeling of being untethered. Like floating in the middle of the ocean in the dark. There is no telling where you were, where you are, or where you need to go. It is unsettling at the least, and quite often utterly terrifying. As I approached 60 days of sobriety, this feeling was — is — is settling in. I can feel it’s heaviness especially in the morning. And it lingers through the day. In the evening it paralyzes me and I find myself unable to do much other watch TV or fall headfirst into my phone. But now that I have named my fear (or at least one of the big ones) I can now start searching for a way forward. Nay, I can start paddling. For if you’re in the middle of the ocean on a moonless night, it perhaps doesn’t matter much which way you paddle, just that you start. Slowly, of course, because who knows how long it will take. I’m just grateful to be on my way.
