Sobriety Series: How I Stopped Craving Alcohol
At least I don’t drink. THANK GOD I DON’T DRINK.
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Dearest Reader,
I had planned to write you a poetic letter about pilgrimage for this month’s Early Sobriety series. Seeing as I just moved to Southeast Asia, and seeing as sobriety is its own kind of pilgrimage, I thought it’d be fitting.
But if you read my recent update, you know that this particular pilgrimage went massively sideways (even before setting off on the journey). Then, after arriving in a country that was not our planned destination, I came down with an illness that left me not only in a lot of pain, but also quite frightened. And so.
What I want to share with you today is less about pilgrimage and more about the underlying current of knowing that has buoyed me on this particular pilgrimage. One that was present both in Canada, when all our carefully laid plans unspooled, and after arriving in Thailand, when (at least initially) things went from worse to worse. Ready? Here it is:
At least I don’t drink. THANK GOD I DON’T DRINK.
Throughout the ebbs and flows (especially the ebbs), my inner voice kept whispering this same refrain. Not as a pro-sobriety mantra or positive mindset trick (although I used such mantras in early sobriety and found them immensely helpful). Rather, I actually, fully felt this sentiment deep in my bones.
After four-plus years sober, I can tell you with 100 percent honesty and certainty: I have zero desire to drink alcohol (and, in fact, have a visceral aversion to the suggestion).
There’s no fear of missing out, or wishing for wine with dinner, or wanting to reminisce with a cold one upon returning to Thailand for the first time in two decades. There’s just straight-up relief that I don’t drink, along with soul-level knowing that drinking would make me feel horrid in every way: physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. Also tremendous gratitude that I never, ever have to take another sip of alcohol again.
More on how I got to this place below (including some loving encouragement if you’re not feeling that way—which is totally okay and doesn’t diminish your sobriety).
You’ll also find this month’s links, featuring (sometimes intense, sometimes confronting) explorations of:
Finding freedom from alcohol and disordered eating
Finding the courage to brave a small-town AA meeting
Realizing that not every path needs to fit an AA-sized container
Rethinking blanket condemnation of codependency
The danger (and tragedy) of performative body positivity
The danger (and tragedy) of Oura rings and other wearables
The danger (and tragedy) of AI “psychologists”
The danger (and tragedy) of pathologizing normal emotions, glamorizing diagnoses, bubble wrapping human experience, and making a God of the self
As always, you’ll find links applicable to addiction recovery in the conventional sense, but also a more expansive one—one that applies more widely to being a human in these times and bringing awareness to our patterns.
As you click through, I encourage you to consider these reads using the lens and language that you find most helpful, whether that’s the language of addiction and sobriety, attachment and letting go, bringing awareness to our patterns, taking personal accountability, or declaring agency over our choices.
Now, as I was saying…
At least I don’t drink. THANK GOD I DON’T DRINK.