Sobriety and the Complexity of Recovery

Maybe you're just not ready for change.

On a fundamental level, I believe sobriety, or perhaps he umbrella term, “Recovery”, to be an individualistic path. Just as your relationships with your higher power is between you and your maker, this too holds loose affiliations in your relationship with your sobriety. Except, well, there is no pearly gate to being sober as an end state. Sobriety alone does not absolve you of your sins (aka, inebriety and the choices made in such a state). Perhaps, then, the evaluation of a higher power as a comparison state is not the best metric.

When I ponder the modern takes on recovery as it is discussed, measured, and debated online; I observe a number of tribes. The Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) tribe is a massive player in the recovery space and places an emphasis on religious principles throughout its steps. “I hold not the personal strength necessary to take away my addiction, therefore, I will ask my God to as I work to extinguish the many bridges I have burned.” No disrespect intended, I just differ in my beliefs. A decent summary of my thoughts regarding one’s ability to free themselves of addiction is as follows; “In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” —James 2:17 (NIV).

I must disclose a fundamental flaw I carry regarding my approach to observing and philosophizing about life. Just as C.G. Jung acknowledges the archaic nature of men and their psyches, the soaking of critical thought regarding psychology and philosophy makes creating original thought processes relative to theory incredibly difficult. Man’s assumptions are derivative of a multitude of external sources. However, we cannot disregard the personal experience of such thought puzzles. If we are to be dubbed as products of nature, nurture, and evolution; we must be careful to ensure we are not perpetuating some unconsciously observed theory as our own original work.

My aim is not to piggyback off of the Greats of our time. Rather, to borrow some frames to expound upon based on my own lived experience. I am neither an observer nor a founding member of such a cohort. I have merely developed my thought processes based upon my lived experiences while doing my best to avoid presenting existing theories in a crass and embarrassing nature. To avoid such footfalls is difficult. Such is the risk you take when you begin to spit your own opinions into these spaces.

My disagreement with AA is grounded in my disagreement to their model. I do not believe God will reach down and simply take my addiction away from me. I fundamentally disagree with the notion that one does not have the fortitude, grit, and overall strength to free oneself of addiction’s grasp. The true nature of addiction is, of course, a physiological byproduct of substance abuse. The tendrils of addiction infect both the waking mind and the body. You may not be able to remove the tendrils, sure, but you can muster the strength required to begin cessation.

There is an endless supply of people just like me who offer their own take on sobriety. The observer of this Recovery Community must be careful to sort between those who are selling sobriety and those who wish to explore the human conditions associated with inebriety, sobriety, and recovery without selling some pseudo-product. Anyone can observe a selling swath within the recovery community. This is not my aim, and I believe the byproduct of financial gain after delivering an enticing enough pitch among vulnerable addicts, fundamentally obliterates the core principles—and truths—related to sobriety.

If one is to add to the literature for financial gain or notoriety, he is opening himself to external rewards associated with his work. These external forces can sway the way in which original thought is developed, delivered, and deliberated. This is not to say the goal of financial gain relative to such pursuit’s challenges credibility and/or hinders the delivery of inflections upon the human condition; however, should such opportunities become available, one must be careful to avoid the enticing capture it may bring. We must also acknowledge, however, how poverty (and thus the desire to free oneself of it) may work as an extreme source of fuel to propel one forward. Which could positively drive an individual to pursue efficacy in one’s work within this field. After all, such prowess is a required part of establishing sufficient credence to excel in this space.

So, where is the middle?

I recognize my position in this space. I have found the potential for financial gain, and I have done my very best to avoid allowing it to alter—or otherwise influence—the message I carry. Despite such opportunity, though incredibly difficult to attain, I am not here to sell you a cure all regarding sobriety and recovery. I am not here to sell you a program that is, “Looking for ten men who want to fundamentally change their lives for the better”. Such figures, in my opinion, do not consider the extreme potential for the message to become lost in the sea of financial gain. I know some such figures. While I acknowledge the utility in some such programs, as, not all are created equally and some surely benefit men who need a reboot, I must distinguish myself away from them; for I do not share their philosophy, belief, nor passion for selling the principles related to becoming a better version of oneself.

Perhaps this disagreement with the industry aspect of recovery and its benefactors is a limiting factor within me.

In simple terms, I am here to tell you what I think of recovery as someone who is also on their own recovery journey.

If you have read my book, then you know, to some measure, my approach to abstaining from alcohol. You would also know that, though I am not trying to discredit or otherwise detract from the AA community, my approach differs from theirs, and I do not believe they are this “cure all” they have been propped up to be. After all, if AA was this incredibly effective tool, then why isn’t it as successful as it is characterized to be?

I must also point out the clear bias I believe is present within the AA community and those who prop it up. AA is utilized by the courts, the schools, and the social systems. Once you inject such a philosophy into the social systems our alcoholics end up interfacing with, and requiring such treatment as part of their rehabilitation, then you end up with an incentive to continue its practice IF you belong to the AA framework from a position of gaining from it financially within such systems. So, if one is to scrutinize AA from a stance of pointing out its flaws, one is to be subjected to a considerable amount of backlash, de-platforming, and personal insult.

Again, I must confess my intentions. I do not wish to detract from AA as a useful tool for some. Nothing, including myself and these spindling thoughts I pour onto the screen, is above scrutiny. Such is the relationship I have with AA. I also recognize how controversial my approach to sobriety as it relates to alcoholism is. Such is the risk associated with speaking one’s mind.

I believe ownership is of critical importance to anyone looking to embark on a path of recovery. When man interacts with his environment, does he not claim ownership over his actions? We will forego the argument of “honesty” and the manipulation of man’s more sinister nature. If man decides to influence his environment by way of movement or manipulation of matter, on a fundamental level, he is the owner of such manipulations of matter and the movements associated with his existence. Regardless of intent, social pressure to conceal such activities or shine a light on them; the choices one makes throughout the lifespan are inherently their own. This does not take away from the extreme pressures one may face, all of which serves as key influences on one’s psyche and the process of decision making.

If a gun is put to my head with the option of accepting the fate of death or choosing to trade places with a nearby observer, the decision I make is still mine. Despite the overwhelming pressure to survive, if I choose to sacrifice someone else by trading places and getting away from the man with the gun, I still maintain ownership over that decision. The moral debate associated with innocence under such circumstances is not what I am here to get into. Obviously, the social consequences associated with such a scenario represent a vast dichotomy. This dichotomy ranges from the individual who sacrificed another as being seen as a victim, and on the opposite side, a coward who sentenced another to death.

My aim is not to get into that messy thought puzzle, but to point out the ownership present within the individual making such a choice. Every decision we make, we own.

I chose to pursue drinking as a means of escaping reality and numbing the trauma I sustained as a child. At some point, as addiction’s tendrils began infecting my mind and body, I realized I had a drinking problem. This realization came in many forms spanning internal and external forces. Spirituality told me I was sinning. Friends and family presented concerns over my drinking. Within, I realized I was utilizing alcohol as a means of coping with life, and such activity fundamentally destroys a healthy existence. It is under such conditions of external and internal forces we alcoholics realize, whether we choose to outwardly reject or acknowledge the issue aside, we have a problem.

Such realization presents itself, overall, as a choice to be made. Do we cave to the onset of addiction and spiral further into alcoholism, or do we choose to pursue sobriety?

It was easy enough for me to disregard such discoveries if they came to me from an external source because, “how dare they judge me when they have no idea what I have been through.”

Under such frequent external and internal conundrums, I chose to continue drinking.

I chose.

I was drinking because, “woe is me—I have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), I have seen death and traumas the likes of which would cripple the average man, and I was sexually abused as a child.”

Such excuses are hardly sufficient enough to justify the behaviors associated with rampant alcoholism from a moral perspective. Yes, they serve as buffers to shield the alcoholic from excessive social scrutiny, however, we must be careful to not allow such excuses to justify, purify, or otherwise shirk responsibility from the alcoholic who suffers them.

Especially if the alcoholic in question is utilizing them to batter those who disagree with their use.

After all, as someone who utilized such excuses during my substance abuse, I understand how wickedly—and most disgustingly—powerful such excuses are at silencing those who scrutinize your use. Again, I am not disregarding the profoundly traumatic experiences I have sustained, and how deeply influential they were in my decision making relative to substance abuse. However, I also cannot discount the self-awareness an alcoholic experiences in light of such trauma.

Such excuses, with particular regard to their subsequent external battering and internal bolstering, are a byproduct of what is known to the modern man as the Victim Mentality.

My definition of the victim mentality is grounded in my own experiences as a former member of its cohort. To me, victim mentality can be defined somewhat narrowly as the following:

1. The belief that one cannot free oneself of their circumstances

2. The belief that one is doomed to repeat troublesome behaviors due to the trauma they sustained

3. The belief that one is unable to change due to mental illness, substance use, or societal pressures

4. The deployment of such excuses (e.g. using traumatic experiences, mental illness, or socioeconomic status to batter those who point out a flaw in character, problem behavior, or substance abuse) to silence those who disagree or otherwise scrutinize your existence (actions, use, behavior, position, etc.,) regardless of where the scrutineer is coming from (positive intent vs. negative intent)

Overall, however, the mentality goes so much further than simply exhibiting some external assault. As I mentioned above (..The Belief that…) the victim mentality infects the deepest corners of the alcoholic’s psyche. It is a sword that cuts internally and externally.

This is the victim mentality one can subscribe to regarding the fundamental lack of ownership over one’s actions, current position, and decision making. Decision-making covers past, present, and future; just as ownership does not simply exist in the present. Again, applying ownership to one’s substance use, trauma, and victim state does not discard the wicked tendrils present with the very physiological aspect of addiction. This is where I disagree with those who champion alcoholism as a disease.

We already have a word for what the physiological element of alcoholism: addiction. I didn’t cut my lip on a poorly crafted bottle of beer and become infected with alcoholism. The liquor I swindled nighty did not change form so as to reach out of the bottle as a snake to bite me; and thus, infecting me with its disease. I didn’t catch an illness from some expired alcohol.

I chose to keep drinking after I realized I had a problem. This was in part, of course, due to the encroaching addiction. However, as someone who has since beaten addiction’s grip in battle, I cannot blame my use strictly on addiction, nor would I do the same for others. Ownership is the sword I utilized in that battle. I am careful not to say I have won the war because, after all, one cannot truly remove the tendrils of addiction fully. I still get the urge to drink. Some days the urge is particularly difficult to surmount, but I always do because the inverse is, to the very core, an entirely unacceptable existence.

Sobriety is not the process of removing such tendrils entirely. It is learning how to lessen their reach (trimming them, so to speak), which, will innately lesson their influence on the psyche. At first, the tendrils associated with my addiction seemed impossible to trim. I grabbed my garden sheers, and it didn’t take long for them to run dull. In my use, I realized I had foolishly allowed an infestation to foment within my mind. Despite the overwhelming nature of those feelings associated with each pang of addiction, whether it is felt physically or mentally, one is still presented with a choice.

In everything you do, you maintain the autonomy to make a decision. Even in unfavorable or even hostile circumstances, from the far reaches of the worst aspects of human nature to deliberating on which orange juice you place into your cart, we humans still have the power of choice. We will forego the merit or lack thereof of any given choice under such a wide array of circumstances, for the moral deliberation of choices made under an oppressor or liberator is not my aim in this writing. Regardless of such deliberations, or the realm upon which our choices play out (internally, externally, spiritually) a simple fact remains; we are still presented with a choice in all things, and we all must make our decision.

Thus, though I cannot fully discount the influences of mental illness or addiction, as someone who has lived through both on a wide and wicked spectrum, I cannot emphasize enough the power of choice.

I should note, though I have stated I know of no intervention that can fully do away with the physiological impact of addiction, I believe there is merit to such works of wonder as they exist in the psychedelic healing space. There is some merit by way of data coming out of ketamine therapy, psylocibin, ayahuasca, and DMT regarding their utilization against trauma and substance use disorders. There is promise there, however, I cannot yet champion them as valid interventions because:

1. They are not so readily available (particularly ayahuasca/DMT/Ketamine therapy) to most alcoholics

2. Such interventions are illegal in most states/countries

3. More research is needed

This is not to say I disbelieve the merits associated with psychedelic use. I myself have experienced psylocibin, and I found it to be, in an odd way, an incredibly therapeutic experience within which I was able to unlock perspectives I had not previously explored, it seemed to forge a new connection and understanding between Mother Nature and I, and it provided me with a new flavor of peace previously undiscovered.

However, my subjective experience with psylocibin does not provide sufficient merit to then allow me to openly advocate for it. Just as I cannot openly advocate for cannabis use despite reaping some of the benefits it offers regarding creativity, critical self-reflection, harm reduction, and unlocking new perspectives. Thus, I cannot openly advocate for any such interventions until there is more data, they are more readily available, and/or they have been decriminalized.

I also cannot speak to a different alcoholic's ability to use such interventions without developing them as a crutch—a new substance to abuse. Just because I maintain the ability to use such interventions without abusing them does not mean a different alcoholic also bears the same use trait. This, perhaps more important than the reasons I presented above, serves as an even more important principle regarding my reluctance to advocate for any such interventions. If I told an alcoholic to try cannabis use as a method of harm reduction/tool to enter into abstaining from alcohol use, and the individual ends up adopting it without breaking free of alcohol or ends up abusing it as a new form of addiction; then I have failed that individual. One could argue that abusing cannabis is healthier than abusing alcohol, sure, but a substance use disorder is still a substance use disorder.

If you are unable to interface with life without using such substances, then you have merely exchanged your delivery method for another.

So, to get back to it, ownership is what fosters the personal growth necessary to embark on a journey into sobriety.

In an effort to break this down further, we must again evaluate ownership as a tool to:

1. Embark on the recovery journey

2. Maintain sobriety/forward momentum in recovery

3. Begin the work necessary to shape your mindset as a newly sober individual navigating a booze free existence (aka, “life in 4k” —Andy Stumpf)

The first is simple. You hold the autonomy and will sufficient enough to listen to your addiction as it presents itself. Analyze how often addiction prods you to use. For me, it always came as a thought.

Bad day? Let’s drink.

Good day? Let’s celebrate.

Average day? Let’s spice it up by drinking. Come on, it’ll be fun.

Come on, you deserve a drink on your day off.

This would be more fun if we had some sauce.

There was also the impulsive nature of my use.

Separating native thoughts and the pangs of addiction (physical urge/thoughts enticing you to drink) is critical in identifying the internal target areas ripe for ownership. Through this process of identification and distinction between what you think and what your addiction would have you think, one may open the door to sobriety via ownership.

As a dock worker, you may interface with the boats and influence what they do. But you certainly don’t own the boats. Therefore, there is only so much you can do regarding the overall physical condition of any boat in your dock. You may venture on them as part of your job; you may even load or offload them. But, you aren’t held responsible for their condition nor repair because, well, they aren’t your boats. Your business is concerned primarily in the upkeep of the docks and the exports/imports flowing through it. You certainly hold no power over where the boats go when they leave, and you don’t get to choose which boats enter your dock either.

However, if you take control (ownership) over a boat moored in your dock, then and only then may you directly influence its upkeep and overall condition. Though you may take ownership over the boat, it is also at the sea’s mercy. Little can be done in relation to the water below (life), in fact, you can’t do a damn thing regarding its currents, tides, or weather wholesale.

But you can install a sonar system as well as weather instruments. You can enshrine discipline as a fundamental principle in order to maintain the upkeep of your vessel to the best of your ability. You can perform a number of tasks to ensure it remains seaworthy. No matter what you do as an owner of a boat, the challenges associated with navigating the sea (aka “life”) is entirely uncontrollable. You can’t control the sea.

Once you take ownership over all the choices you have made, only then can you embark on the journey of sobriety. Once you have realized your own power to choose, you may choose to not drink. Eventually, be it through repetition or the stronger realization of ownership, eventually you may choose to never drink again.

Every outburst, drunken conundrum and/or embarrassment, broken relationship, bridge set ablaze, and all of the trauma. Everything you have done both as a drunkard as well as a sober individual is of critical importance as it relates to ownership. You must take ownership over all aspects of your life from a decision-making perspective. You must take ownership over every negative thing you have done just as you should take ownership over every positive thing you have done. They hold the same weight from the perspective of what taking ownership can do for you.

Sobriety will not fix your broken relationships. It won’t absolve you of any crimes you may have committed. It will not purify you from a moral perspective, and you will have to work hard to restore the moral ground you have lost. In my opinion, once you break your moral compass, it is incredibly difficult to piece it back together. Thus, you must be intentional with the things you claim ownership over, lest you become morally absent.

You must shirk the victim mentality with which you have allowed yourself to be transformed into a bottom feeder with. I have no judgements for you in such a state, I simply know how miserable such an existence is, and I wish for you to be free of it. It may not feel like it, but I am coming from a place of love.

After all, I don’t have the gall to sit here and outrightly call you a victim. Technically speaking, I am a victim. I was sexually abused as a child. I don’t identify as a victim, and nor should you. For it only bolsters the lack of ownership and accountability I would warn you of.

As a newly sober person, you must make efforts to own the actions you took as a drunkard as a means of changing them. You can’t change what you don’t own. Once you understand that sobriety will not innately fix you, then you are presented with yet another choice. Will you succumb to the overwhelming realization that you’ve made an absolute waste of yourself (i.e. guilt, shame, self-hatred, etc.,) in your use and subsequently return to it, will you exist in a pseudo state of immovable emotional turmoil as you try and fail to shirk responsibility for who you were and what you did as a drunk (failing to maneuver/move forward), or will you actively take steps to claim ownership over ALL OF IT? The latter of the three allows you to make progress as a sober person, address the core mental illnesses you developed prior to or during your drinking, and it allows you to begin anew.

Take ownership. Don’t struggle alone.

More thoughts on this later.