I believe I left off discussing ownership as a guiding principle in maintaining one’s sobriety. It would be remiss of me to not discuss the very emotional aspect of ownership, as part of taking ownership inherently means retaining some measure of guilt over one’s actions as a drunkard.
It is not my aim to suggest living a life full of regret, guilt, or shame. These emotions, among several negative others, are to be expected as one takes ownership over who they used to be. However, such emotions should be critically analyzed as to understand how they can be processed in a much less emotionally negative way. Trying to stay sober when you hate yourself is difficult. I’ve been there before. I know how much easier it is to remain sober once you are able to process such provoking negative emotions in a way that allows you to utilize them as a source of fuel rather than a detraction from your recovery process.
I still feel guilt and shame over who I was as a drunk. Taking ownership allowed me to separate who I am from who I used to be, because a critical component of such ownership, in my opinion, is to convert such feelings into fuel to propel oneself forward in recovery. Put simply, yes, you’re going to feel negatively about who you used to be. Does that mean you must accept them as fundamental aspects of your character as it exists today?
No. You’re human, you made some mistakes, and while you’re going to own those mistakes and keep them handy as reminders as to why you must never break your sobriety; your mistakes do not define who you are today nor who you will be tomorrow. There is a critical detachment there. You have to recognize your actions and identify them with who you used to be rather than who you are now.
Once you have separated who you used to be with who you are now, only then can you detach from some of the emotional turmoil associated with your guilt, shame, or self-hatred and utilize them instead as reminders to never return to who you used to be. The separation isn’t easy to make. I won’t lie to you about this process, or the struggles associated with remaining sober in general. The first year of my sobriety was fueled almost entirely by the overwhelming feelings of guilt, hatred, rage, and shame associated with who I allowed myself to be. There aren’t enough words to describe how much I still loathe myself. Yes, I had the discovery of self-love and held onto it as a prerequisite to obtaining an initial period of sobriety, but I still found myself driven more by negative self-talk and anger than anything else really.
I discovered, at some point, that allowing myself to pursue self-betterment out of anger and rage over who I allowed myself to be, or even at myself, was not healthy. Are we to be absolved of our actions, then? Not necessarily. Instead, you must convert such emotions into fuel in order to better yourself. It is in this way in which you can lessen the emotional turmoil associated with such feelings. Usurping their intoxicating grip is much easier said than done.
Some things never leave you. Just as traumatic events have a way of laughing in the face of time, so too can the negative emotions associated with who you used to be. If you have read my book, then you will understand how I managed to cage the alcoholic within. The purpose of utilizing such metaphors isn’t just so I can write beautifully or try to provoke some imagery for the reader. I literally went to war against my own mind and who I used to be.
Drunk and obese me really does exist in a straitjacket within a prison I’ve built in my mind. Renovating your mind and building out such thought processes can be beneficial. The man I used to be is still me; I’ve just locked him away within. I conducted offensive operations against he and his forces on the high slopes and vast fields of thought.
To those in recovery, the mind isn’t supposed to be this warm and cozy place of unfettered respite. No, the mind is a battleground of will. The only reason why the kinetic clashes of mind over matter have lessened regarding my sobriety is because I have been at war for three and a half years. The peace present in between my ears is the direct result of the constant offensive operations I have conducted against me. The war is far from over, but I have successfully captured the enemy’s commander, and his forces have been reduced to a band of guerillas. They lack the resources necessary to wage broader operations; but they are no less dangerous. Each battle is met with the same tenacity I mustered on day one of sobriety, for mercy isn’t an option in this internal war of you versus you.
This is how you must treat such emotions. Just as an enemy is to be respected and never underestimated, you must respect them for what they can bring to you instead of allowing them to steer your vessel. If anyone told you that recovery would be easy, I promise that person was lying to you. It is a loud, chaotic, and messy fight against who you used to be. This enemy knows you well, for you used to be a member of its ranks.
So, to get back to it, ownership doesn’t inherently sentence you to feeling like crap over who you used to be. Its uses do not include providing you with an excuse to feel like a piece of shit. Yes, you’re going to feel those emotions and they can be difficult to process. They can feel impossible to surmount, and I recognize how much easier it is to write these things than actually conduct such battles within. This is why therapy or talking to someone about such emotions is something I seriously encourage. You must find healthy ways to process such emotions whether it is working out, therapy, hobbies, or pursuing Mother Nature.
But, to my core, I believe in the human potential we each carry within. No matter how desperate your situation is you have the strength required to pursue recovery.
I don’t know your circumstances. I can’t speak to the universal nature of alcoholics because I believe such a classification doesn’t exist. We share the battle, but we each have our own story. No two alcoholics have the same story. We each undergo recovery in our own way. You might benefit from some more serious interventions such as rehabilitation or more in-depth psychological services. Or perhaps you’re like me and you’re navigating recovery in a less professional setting due to the profession you occupy.
Now, I was already a couple of years sober by the time I obtained my security clearance. If you weren’t aware, I spent some time as a federal contractor with the U.S. Department of State (DoS). My primary function involved physical security. It sounds a lot cooler than it was, I’m not Jason Bourne, but the experience exposed me to a higher level of knowledge, awareness, and involvement regarding some international happenings. It is during my time with DoS in which I began pursuing therapy for the CSA I endured as a kid.
I was chiefly concerned with how the therapy might impact my security clearance. These fears did not mesh with reality, and I would encourage you to take your mental health seriously regardless of what profession you are in. Recovery is worth more than sacrificing your health for a job that won’t love you back no matter how much you love it. They’ll replace you the moment you leave. I’m not writing these things to provoke some negative emotions or come across as mean; that’s just reality. Shaping your mindset into valuing recovery and who you want to be, through ownership and resolve, is infinitely more worth it than any given career path.
This will draw my thoughts on sobriety and recovery to a close for now. Ownership is a beautiful tool one can utilize in the recovery space. The world will not absolve you of whatever sins you might have committed against it during your drinking days. You should agree with them but treat yourself much more charitably. Love yourself enough to see these things as reasons to fight. Convert the negativity into fuel to better the self. Own your mistakes, and you effectively take away their ability to take from who you are today, and who you will be tomorrow.
You have the strength required to muster change. You are worthy of pursuing a better life. I’m not an expert and recovery is full of nuances. I hope you have gotten something from this writing.