Sobriety and Me

Imagine how nice it must be to have a normal brain. A brain that isn’t trying to sabotage you at every turn. A brain that doesn’t spring into action every morning and choose chaos.

Obviously I can’t relate as my brain has seemingly decided that it is my greatest enemy and it’s mission in life is to make every day a battle. Luckily I am winning the battle but that is besides the point.

Growing up my brain and I had a fantastic (yet perhaps volatile) relationship, my brain was my ally and enabled me to be smart, confident and rational. Luckily for me my brain was super smart and so it took the wheel and guided me through my academic life with ease. It was also inquisitive and determined so together we had some wonderful and enriching adventures.

Albeit, all good things must come to an end, and much like a toxic, unhealthy relationship, my brain and I began to breakdown. It became bored of our picture perfect life we had built together and instead chose the path of destruction. Despite my body begging for us to reconcile, my brain instead decided it quite liked the sound of addiction and went all in on the alcoholic route.

Deep down I think my brain was desperately trying to cut ties it’s fleshy vessel as it went out of its way to make all of the worst possible decisions on my behalf and very nearly succeeded in winning the battle. Yet I fought back and won. My fleshy vessel stood its ground and forced my brain to stop being such a dick. I pulled it, kicking and screaming, out of active addiction and dragged it down the road of sobriety.

I thought I’d won the battle for good but it turns out that my brain wasn’t quite down with its tantrum and instead replaced addiction with something equally as debilitating… severe anxiety.

Let me tell you know during those first few weeks of sobriety the dreaded cloud of anxiety rained over me like it was monsoon season. It was new and it was terrifying. I could barely leave the house at times as the sense of dread was so overwhelming that I genuinely thought I’d faint if I went outside. The first time I experienced a panic attack I honestly thought I was having a heart attack and went as far as to call for a paramedic (very uncool, Brain). It stopped me in my tracks and suddenly I was a nervous wreck. Going to new places gave me palpitations. Being in crowded places made me feel like I was about to pass out. Doing the things I once loved was no longer an option because my brain just refused to let me.

I became really withdrawn for a while because of it. Here I was, so happy to be sober but unable to enjoy my new found life as it was overridden by a incredible sense of dread. I did seek out medical advice and was prescribed a couple of different medications but I never found anything that made me feel any better so I opted out of the pharmaceutical route after a while.

Eventually I started trying to silence my brain and began fighting back a little bit at a time. I never pushed myself past my limits and took it very slowly but each time I did something that made me anxious I would remind myself that I was fine and nothing terrible was going to happen.

Overtime it has gotten better. It has taken years and I still battle with it every single day but I am able to do things now that I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing a few years ago. It’s not that I have got over it but rather that I have got better at dealing with it and have built a great inventory of relaxation techniques. I carry rescue remedy everywhere, I chew cbd gummies like there’s no tomorrow, I wear tinted glasses to feel less exposed… etc etc. But I’ve not turned back to alcohol for comfort.

Last year I bought a house, moved 250 miles away and started a new job in a new town. My brain tried to tell me I couldn’t do it but I did. I got married this year and stood in front of a bunch of people while I said my vows. My brain tried to tell me I couldn’t do it but I did. I have been to the theatre and for dinners with friends and to big work conferences. All things that would have triggered a panic attack a while back. Hell, I even went to the dentist and had a filling. The dentist is my number one fear so I’m particularly proud of that one.

It would be nice if I could do these things without having to argue with my brain first but I’m not there yet. I might never be there, maybe my brain and I will always be rivals but at least I try to fight back now. Sometimes my brain wins and I have to bail on doing something because I just can’t face it. But sometimes I win and I get to enjoy doing something and feeling proud of myself afterwards.

Sometimes, as I am going about my day I am suddenly hit with a random memory from my past that stops me in my tracks and makes me cringe. It’s like my brain likes to interrupt my perfect day by reminding me of something super embarrassing.

Most of the time these memories are silly and harmless, sometimes they are of more serious and terrible events that I try so hard to block out.

This blog has proved very cathartic in the past so I figured “Hey! Why not share these memories with the world”. And on that note, welcome to ‘Bad, awful things I did during active addiction – the miniseries’.

Let me take you back to the year 2013. My drinking hadn’t gotten super bad yet but the warning signs were all there. I’d just moved back to my hometown and my ex had reached out to me and asked if I’d like to meet up for a catch up. I was thrilled at this prospect as we hadn’t seen each other in a couple of years and I was, at this point, still convinced he was my soulmate. When he asked to meet up I saw it as my opportunity to be so charming and gorgeous and witty that he’d instantly fall back in love with me and we’d live happily ever after.

We agreed to meet at a bar in town. I got there slightly earlier and instantly necked two glasses on wine while I waited for him… Dutch courage and all that. We had a great evening, he looked as handsome as I remembered and the conversation flowed effortlessly, it was lovely. The drinks were flowing yet of course, I was throwing back glasses of wine while he was drinking beer at a normal persons pace.

As the evening drew to a close, he asked if I’d like to go back to his. Obviously I knew what this meant so I was outside flagging down a taxi before he could even get his jacket back on. However the outside air hit me like a tonne of bricks and suddenly I was feeling the effects of the many glasses of wine. On the taxi ride back to his, the driver asked for clarity on directions to which my companion answered. For some reason I decided to chime in and start arguing, for the life of me I have no idea why I was under the impression that I knew where this guy lived better than he did but I definitely sounded like an idiot.

We get back to his house and decide to hang out in his room. Now someone please tell me why I decided to walk over, scoop this guy up and body slam him over my shoulder on to the bed! 9 years later and I can’t even begin to understand my reasoning, it was the strangest life choice I’ve ever made. Luckily he laughed it off… I think.

After he recovered from my surprise wresting moves he went to pour us a nice, sophisticated glass of red wine… which I immediately spilt on the bed.

From what I can remember the rest of the night was pretty standard. I spent the night, left in the morning and believe it or not, I saw him again after that! I do have another story involving him but I’ll save that for part 2.

Thank you for reading my memoir, I hope it made you laugh a little and cringe on my behalf. Steve, if you ever read this, I’m sorry but you do have to admit it was a really impressive body slam.

I haven’t written in a while because I’ve been so busy with work, wedding planning and raising a new puppy.

However whilst sat here in my office printing paperwork it suddenly occurred to me that I really have turned my life around… I truly have.

It almost doesn’t seem real to think that 4 years ago I was under monitoring from a mental health team as a result of harm I was causing myself physically and mentally. My family had pretty much cut me off, I had no job, no access to money as my accounts had been frozen and had no desire to continue living.

And here I am now, writing this whilst at work. Employed in a field I love and excelling professionally. I’m a homeowner in a beautiful part of the country, I have no money worries, I’m getting married in 6 weeks and am finally living a life I never knew existed for me.

It really does get better!

I feel like I have spoken a fair bit about the mental/psychological aspects of alcohol abuse but not so much about the physical side. Perhaps that is due to the fact that I consider myself rather lucky – somehow my body has managed to avoid any negative repercussions despite the absolute hell I put it though. When I went for my first doctors check up just weeks into my sobriety I was certain that they would tell me that my liver was damaged or that I had massively ruined my long term health prospects… yet that wasn’t the case. Everything came back fine. I got lucky, very lucky.

Well, not entirely. I was quite under weight and had begun having heart palpitations (though they couldn’t be certain of a direct cause for the palpitations).

However when I look back now at photos of myself from a couple of years ago it is obvious to me that I was certainly not healthy and was most definitely neglecting myself.

Above is a photo of me taken about one month before I ditched the drink. I remember going out that night and taking this photo because I liked how I looked. I don’t like it now. Despite my well put together appearance it is clear that I was under weight for my size. I was gaunt and worn down from months and months of heavy drinking.

This is me today. My face is fuller, I am a healthy weight for the first time in years. Turns out I’m actually quite curvy and am just now discovering this for the first time. I’m not for a second saying that I am the embodiment of perfect health now, not by a long shot. I eat a lot of junk and I drink a lot of caffeine… but I’d take that over sustaining myself with a bottle of wine for dinner any day of the week.

I am still here and I am still sober!
I decided to take a break from posting for a while because well, life suddenly became very busy. Back in August I bought a house… I am now a home owner, something that seemed so far out of reach 824 days ago! I finally achieved my dream of living near the sea so relocated my whole life (alongside my partner) to settle in a beautiful town in Cornwall.

This also meant that I got a new job… well I’m still with the same company but I got a promotion and could not be happier.

All of this has meant my anxiety has been through the roof but I’m actually quite surprised with how well I’ve dealt with it and not let it prevent me from living my life.

So that’s the update for now, still sober and smashing it!