Eight Years (The Only Way Out is Through)

Today I am 8 years sober, so I wanted to commemorate this day with 8 ways that sobriety and the Twelve Step program of Alcoholics Anonymous has transformed my life:

    1)  I have become consistent and reliable
    2)  I am able to connect to myself, to others, and to God
    3)  I have learned to ease my fears of not belonging or not being accepted
    4)  I have learned how to speak my truth and advocate for myself
    5)  I have become empowered to live honestly

    6)  I have been reconciled to my friends and family
    7)  I have fostered strong female friendships
    8)  I have learned how to be accountable, and to not be a victim

Three years ago, when I received my five-year medallion, I was in a lot of emotional pain. Family drama, low self-esteem, and apathy, made the year or two leading up to that accomplishment a perpetual taunting of relapse. By grace and stubbornness, I made it through, and my only message that night was to not give up. The statistics for relapse in the first five years are huge. For every five-year medallion, 45 one-year medallions are handed out. In this pandemic, that number is probably higher now. 

To make it to a state where relapse is less and less likely, requires a long and hard-fought resolution. Willpower is but a renewable resource, and can be recharging when we need it the most. This is just the way it is, and why as a health coach we are trained to not rely heavily on it. In these most desperately trying times, I have found acceptance of pain and suffering to be the only true remedy. We made a decision to not escape through intoxicants. It hurts in the moment, but it leads to an everlasting reward. As the psalmist wrote, “Weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.”

Eventually, those sober nights turn into sober days, sober days into sober weeks, sober weeks into sober months, months into years, then decades, until this way of living becomes the only normal one we truly know, and turning back on it becomes less and less likely. This is because as with so many other things, we are in a numbers game, and we eventually start to have wins in life. Gaining confidence in sobriety, we begin to understand that coping with losses via the bottle is no longer a viable option.

Getting to that point however, might take dark nights of the soul – the only way out is through. My message at 8 years is the exact same as it was at 5 - don't give up in those hard moments. We might feel lonely, ashamed, bored, excited, triggered, apathetic, depressed, confused, victimized...the list can go on, ad infinitium, but eventually we will come to understand that those are just feelings that we don’t have to avoid or be enslaved to. We can eventually learn to alleviate and even transmute these feelings, and being in them soberly, can enable that process.

Embrace Yourself - Be Happy "YOU" by Pooja Grover

Choosing Priorities

As I continue on my healing journey, I can see now how much I people-pleased, because I was so afraid of someone being mad at me, or not liking me at all. I would therefore say yes to tasks or duties that I didn't want to partake in, or I would neglect my own priorities in order to make other people happy.  This was ultimately a lack of boundaries, which at times happened because I would get swept up in the moment, and just so happy to connect with someone. Other people's comfort ended up mattering more to me than my own. And while this can appear nice, it doesn't work when trying to make goals.

I also lacked the boundaries needed to put my own work first, because I was so afraid of someone talking badly about me, or being annoyed with me. One of the greatest things I learned in my recovery is the saying, "What other people think of me is none of my business." Once I learned that even with the best of intentions, the most carefully selected words, the most well thought-out responses, I can still do or say, or not say or not do, something that offends someone, or doesn't meet their need. Letting go of the outcome, and letting go of other people's judgements, has been one way that's helped free me from my people-pleasing tendencies. 

Now as I enter a new phase of my development, and I reemerge from months of lockdown, I strive to maintain my priorities, which can be challenging. To be able to say no, to be able to stand up for myself which in turn might cause offence or displeasure to someone, has been a huge undertaking that is winning me peace. I have had to really affirm that I am taking care of my mental health (which will reflect in my physical health), and this also includes being compassionate with myself. 

Part of saying no, part of establishing and maintaining boundaries, can have pushback, even with myself. I want to go on the attack, and call myself lazy, unmotivated, or impoverished. But I pause and look at the reality of the situation instead, and see that I am none of those things, and that being mean to myself isn't helpful. Rather, I find courage, motivation, and abundance within myself, and bring it out to show up in this world with enthusiasm and resiliency. This is what my work today is all about. 

When I make a plan, and when I accept that my plan might not allow me to realistically put everyone who I want to put first in that place all the time, I can take a moment to reflect on those feelings, and as Marshall Rosenberg wrote in Nonviolent Communication, observe the situation, instead of evaluate it. Placing boundaries doesn't mean that I care about anyone less, it just means that I have a goal, and I want to achieve it. 

Having a vision, having boundaries, and having the self-compassion to see my work through, gives me a blueprint for success that allows me to show up 100% of the time, even when my people-pleasing habits want to diminish my efforts. Slow living and valuing myself have been two skills that I have developed this past year, and it is worth the discomfort of learning to exist in an alternative paradigm that I suspect in time will become more commonplace as we continue to navigate a pandemic-ridden world, and make plans for the other side of it.

Tree of Life by Peggy Davis