Tag: sober

Finding Yourself(ie)

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When I first got sober, I thought I knew who I was. But, I wasn’t going to tell you.

Even just a few, short months ago I wasn’t interested in broadcasting my sobriety, at all. It’s never been something I’ve tried to hide, but I haven’t been especially open about it either. For a long time, it was information I distributed on a need-to-know-basis. The people in my life who needed to know, knew. I left everyone else to wonder.

Yet, here I am. Locked and loaded. Fully equipped with a fucking dot com, selling my alchie-soul to Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram. How does this happen?

Simply put, I found myself(ie). That little voice I’d been shhhhushing for so long, well, it turns out, she actually had something to say. It took some time for me to decipher what was divulging too much. I asked myself: How much of my story did I really want to tell? Tough call. Historically, I’ve been a pretty private person. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that sobriety wasn’t the Girl Scout badge I wanted to showcase. For a long time, to me, sobriety equated alcoholism–one required the other. I wasn’t ready to out myself.

It’s not that I don’t have pride in the work I’ve done or the person I’ve become, I sure as fuck do. But, somewhere along the line, I decided that I wasn’t going to let sobriety be the thing that defined me. Promptly following that decision the inevitable question arose: If sobriety doesn’t define me, what does?

zoo

OK, so, I’m no longer shitfaced and miserable. Now what? What makes me tick? What do I want to do now that I’m not glued to a bar stool? I batted ideas around like a kitten for 18 months. I had no idea. I couldn’t decide. And, I wasn’t alone.

The wonderful world of 12-Step provided me with a host of littermates that were similarly phased by their new found freedom from being constantly intoxicated. I started to see a theme. My former-drunk-y pals had either started to run with their sobriety, acting on their goals and dreams, or, their asses were glued to folding chairs in church basements 24/7, clinging to paper coffee cups to keep them from floating off into lunar orbit. I didn’t know which category I fell into. Was I goal oriented? Or, was I just hangin’ on to my cup of Folger’s for dear life?  I came to realize that I wasn’t either. More importantly, I didn’t have to be. I started making my own plans. The 12-Step Kool-Aid is delicious, but, it’s not going to take me to my spaceship.

After much hunting and soul searching I came to discover that: You are my spaceship. Yes, you. Since you’re reading this, I assume you care about what I have to say, or, at the very least, you are so judgmental that you’ve taken the time to note how craptastic I am!

But seriously, this is where my heart is: Writing my experience. I open my mouth, I speak, and I hope someone is listening. And yes, it’s true, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with my life, but, I will always desire to be heard.

And so, Saucy Sobriety was born: An unabashed look at my sober-life, not my sober-alcoholism. In this blog, it’s me you’re getting–not the alcoholic. Though, I do happen to be one. For me, sobriety isn’t about alcoholism. It’s about freedom.

Finding yourself(ie) is an ongoing process. (So, you may find your iPhone handy-dandy for last-minute edits…)

My mistake was making recovery my life. When I made my life about living, the story wrote itself.

 

My advice: Don’t wait until you have a plan. You don’t need one. Put pen to paper and write.

Stay saucy,

Sarah

 

Accepting Thirty.

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THIS IS THIRTY: The moment where your Grandmother tells you that she prays, every night, that you’ll find a man. And, instead of laughing, you’re crying, thanking her profusely for her prayers.

I wish I could be an adult about this, because honestly, twenty days into my third decade, I should definitely qualify as one.

But, there’s that piece of me that just won’t comply. I’m still just a little girl standing in the middle of the living room, stomping her feet because she didn’t get her way. Thirty?! No! NO! NO!!!!

Why doesn’t the Universe know?! By now, I’m supposed to have a great job, one so overwhelmingly fabulous that I just spring out of bed every morning, dance into the bathroom, singing into my toothbrush like Joan Jet, serenading the day that awaits me. Just down the stairs, my hunk of a husband, is seated at the granite-topped island in our fabulous kitchen, reading John Updike, waiting, with a cup of French-press coffee, just for me.

STOP. WAIT. WAKE UP.

Welcome to my real life:

I’m single. Broke.  My cat has to scratch me out of bed in the morning because half the time I ignore the alarm. No one’s waiting with my coffee. I’m the one brewing a 12-cup pot of Costco Columbian Select when I arrive at my lack-luster desk job. Frankly, my Sonicare toothbrush is the most energetic part of my morning.

For the past few months, leading up to this: thirty, I’ve devoted a lot of time and energy to thinking about all the things I haven’t done. All the goals I haven’t accomplished. All the women I’ve wanted  to be, but, have successfully eluded becoming. I’ve thought about my contemporaries, assembling the dreaded comparative checklist. Sure, there are the “successes,” the lawyer/business mogul-superstar daughters of my mother’s coworker, and there are my cousins who are happy, married, and breeding. (Grandma’s prayers worked for them!) But, after some investigation, I found that most people in my age bracket have no idea what the fuck they’re doing. And, it’s OK! They’re surviving! We’re going to be alright!

When I actually slow down, assess the situation realistically, I realize that, maybe, just maybe, I’m right where I need to be.

And, for now, Right-Where-I-Need-To-Be happens to look like a crazy train wreck. Wham-O: I’m in the midst of a depressing break-up (again), at a dead-end job, and I’m a renter, a fucking renter! So fucking what?!

Thirty is really the same as twenty, except now, I’m a hot warm mess. I’ve learned truly valuable lessons about love, losing it, and what NOT to do. And bonus prize: I’m still YOUNG.

Holy shit people! I looked in the mirror on my thirtieth birthday and I had to admit, it’s the best I’ve looked in years!

I haven’t peaked! I’m not peaking!! This is PRIME TIME!!!

I’m sober. I get to live my life now, not just watch as it passes by my blurry eyes. And, while I’d be a big fat liar if I told you I had all my shit together, I’m not totally without purpose. There is a destination, I think, even if it’s a mystery. For the first time in my life, I feel worthy of something good. Now, maybe it hasn’t arrived just yet, but, I’m old enough to know it’s on the way.

Thirty is my lesson in acceptance.

Accept a new decade, and, realize that it’s the same deal.

Sure, it’d be nice to feel a bit more secure. It’d be nice to have a partner to pick me up when I crash and burn. It’d be nice to own a home. It’d be nice to know that if I die in my apartment, that someone will get to me before my cat eats my face. But, in all honesty, things are on the up’n’up. I’m no longer the wimpy twenty-something, chain smoking outside of bars, throwing back tequila shots, and falling off ledges–breaking, then losing, my $500 Prada glasses (yes, I did that).

I’m an adult, but, I’m still cooking. So, you can wait a few more years before you stick that fork in me, please.

Thirty Fucking Schmirty.

I’m on the way up my lil’ saucies.  On the way up.

Stay saucy,

Sarah

P.S. Tell me all about your birthday revelations in the comments! I want to hear your acceptance stories, pronto!!!

 

There’s just this moment. Now.

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Ram.Dass

When I first discovered Ram Dass, I was a lost soul.

I felt stuck. I was still drinking heavily, but, I was starting to question the road I was on. I knew in my gut that there was no way for me to keep up with my own lifestyle. I was afraid of who I was becoming. I didn’t know how to change. I didn’t know who to be. And, I was afraid to ask for help.

In my confusion, I began to read voraciously. And, in a passage of  Anne LaMott’s Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith, she mentions reading, and having a life-changing experience with, Ram Dass’ classic: The Only Dance There Is. I immediately went to my local bookstore and bought a copy. The moment I cracked open the spine, Ram Dass exploded into my heart. His language: woo woo, hippie-dippy, far-out, and super groovy, spoke to me. He was unapologetic about his place in the Universe. His presence was his own. I envied his clarity and confidence. In his own, marked place of presence, he made me feel PRESENT and ALIVE.

It was only a few months after reading The Only Dance There Is that I called my parents and told them I needed help: I wanted to stop drinking.  And, with their support, I was able to leave my job and enter a six month, holistic, outpatient rehab center.

Without drinking or using drugs I had no choice but to be present. Of course, I tried to distract myself. I obsessed. I got lost. But, eventually, I found myself in a moment where I had to stay. A moment where I had no choice but to experience what was happening. A moment that is everything and nothing simultaneously. Yes, it’s far out.

When I found my presence, it was scary. I’d spent most of my adult life attempting to escape such moments. Yet, somehow, it came to pass that I was actually seeking my own presence, my own unapologetic being.

Sobriety is the ability to be fully present. Any type of addiction cuts us off from our authentic state. It was difficult for me to get to a place where that concept made sense. I spent a lot of time missing my drinks. I was convinced I was missing out on something. But, eventually the opposite was revealed: I had been missing out on lots of things by continuing to drink and use drugs. Being present is the ultimate tool. If you can live with yourself, you can be anywhere, do anything, and feel any and every emotion, because no matter what, you’ll be authentically you. That’s all there is.

For the first time, I became present. I became available to myself and to the infinite Universe of which we are all an important part. It is a gift that I sincerely hope everyone has the opportunity to receive.

This week I encourage you to stop and Be. Here. Now.

How will you show up for yourself and the world today? What stops you from being present? Share your story in the comments…I want to hear it…

Stay saucy,

Sarah

 

 

 

Define YOUR OWN Sobriety

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Merriam.Webster.

How do you define your sobriety? Merriam-Webster’s definition doesn’t cut it for me.

so·ber adjective \ˈsō-bər\ 
: not drunk
: having or showing a very serious attitude or quality
: plain in color

Pssshhh. I don’t know about y’all, but, my attitude is not serious nor am I plain in color.

I’m fuchsia people. I’m saucy  as hell.

Sobriety, once only considered a consequence, associated with street drunks and alley-way addicts, has new borders. It’s a state of mind that benefits EVERYONE. In this new-world revolution, we’re all striving for great health, emotional and professional balance, and true clarity. There’s nothing plain in color there. In fact, the color spectrum broadens as we start to think more clearly and behave in ways that are congruent with our authentic nature.

Sobriety is as bright as the frame that you put it in.

There’s frame #1: Survival Sobriety.  Quit or die.

Then, there’s frame #2: Choose Sobriety. I mean, think about it, who wouldn’t want to choose sobriety? What does your drink or drug of choice offer you that makes it more appealing than being your pure, unadulterated self? There’s no right or wrong answer here.

If you WANT to be sober, whether you need to be or not, it’s an amazing and worthy option. Embrace it.

What brought you to this page? Are you planning to be sober for life? Are you hopping on the sober train for a month or two to clear out the cobwebs? Have you been sober before and feel like it’s time to get back on the wagon?

No matter what your reasons for being here are: They’re amazing and valid.

Sobriety is about clarity of mind, being present for your life, and being a witness to what’s around you without mind altering substances.

All things being equal: Sobriety = Worth it = You.

What is your sober story? Share it!

Screw Merriam-Webster. Define yourself. We’re listening….

Stay Saucy,

Sarah