Day 7

24/01/2022

Today is my seventh sober.

Or 7 days, 2 hours, fifty-eight minutes and fifty-three seconds. Sober.

By the time I had decided to quit altogether, I had been accidentally sober for almost six days.

Has anyone else had the odd pleasure of this head-start?

Not that the hardest part is over, or has it even begun. The coasting sensation of going from days 1 - 7 without realising has gifted me glimpse of what it will eventually feel like to one day go about life not desiring/thinking about alcohol. To exist as if it never existed. I felt thankful for my new start in sobriety. I enjoyed the gratitude I gave to my body and felt confident in the promises I was making to me. I was blooming…

This very quickly went to seed...

I work in education, which is a challenging environment to match any kind of professional. An hour into the first session with an especially needy learner, and I was feeling the strain. On difficult days such as this, I’d be too hungover to care what was achieved, or in some cases, still drunk from having drank all night into the small hours. I didn’t care – about my job, about my learners, my future. I didn’t care about me.

Today was finally different. I felt desperate to see something good come out of it, to maintain that positive momentum. It was quickly turning to shit. I was losing the spring in my step, I was hungry (I am trying to eat better, too), my energy was low and so did the day drag along.

This evening, I had to take a minute:

• It’s been eight days. I’m still a much better person now than I was nine days ago - pacing around to music, downing chilled, cheap wine, wishing I existed in another world. Or worse, wishing I didn’t exist at all.

• That feeling I had this morning was a gift my body gave to me for finally taking responsibility. It will surely be back soon.

• The sensation I felt from the little “head start” was not a beginner’s-luck sobriety step. It was a small taste of what life could be like if I kept going. Of not just existing without alcohol but living. It will be really fucking hard. Days where my patience is tested by a lazy learner will seem like a daydream compared to the inevitable - when life gets in the way of my sobriety. When past traumas creep up on me, and I will have to face it sober.

I could reach for the bottle; doubtless it will cross my mind. Why wouldn’t it? It’s what I’ve programmed my brain to do. Yet, this milestone has given me a new sense of wellbeing and a great source of power: I can’t wait to sleep tonight, because I cannot wait to wake up feeling eight days fresh and ready for nine… and whatever else this new life is going to offer up.

*

30/01/2022

Today I've been thinking about pressure and influence. How I can insist even the most authentic, raw experiences be polished and well presented. It's the editor/writer in me. It is a part of the reason I choose to share my journey anonymously. It gives me the freedom and space to think and feel out loud without the interference of my own censorship and denial.

I took a moment to remember my sobriety journey is not a filtered experience. I am not "sober curious", I am an alcoholic with unresolved trauma and in the very early stages of recovery.

Not all my thoughts will be diamonds.

I'm cool with that.