I recently was listening to the Toni Morrison documentary on Netflix, where a guest said that to reimagine is different than to reinvent yourself, because reinventing yourself means that you don’t like yourself.
So, I am reimagining myself, as ‘Sober Curious’.
I also just finished the book, Sober Curious, which I have absolutely adored. And it has shifted my view on sobriety and what being “sober curious” may afford me.
I love this phrase, “sober curious,” because what it does is to reframe this idea of sobriety.
When we label ourselves “sober,” or what Warrington calls “sober sober,” then often we put these restrictions on our integrity and a complete lifestyle that says we will never drink again. We also feel judged if we do drink, and we may make others feel judged if we choose not to partake, since alcohol is so accepted and everywhere.
Warrington also points out that being “sober” often asks and focuses on the wrong thing. The better question to ask is— Is my life better without alcohol?
Warrington reframes the question of diving into a possible/curious life of sobriety by saying—the question is not/should not be can I live without alcohol? But am I better off without it?
And, almost always, the answer is yes.
She explains how we develop a new sense of clarity, as we lean into moments of sobriety where we otherwise would imbibe. That uncomfortable—or rather, getting comfortable with being uncomfortable, paying attention to our emotions and what they’re trying to teach us, we may learn and grow in many expected ways from this.
We learn to cultivate our own sense of inner joy and to be more present in the moments.
She makes me chuckle when she says that we’ll also avoid: shitty sex, stepping away from less tolerable people. She explains we’ll sleep better, have more energy and be more productive, overall—we’ll feel better, we’ll save money, and have clearer skin, etc, etc.
I also appreciate that she doesn’t position alcohol as the problem, but rather, questions why we use it—and so frequently on social occasions— that becomes problematic. Many of us don’t give pause as to the why.
Alcohol is so ubiquitous in our American culture. It is by far the most socially accepted “using” behavior, where we imbibe this-as addictive as cocaine legal-substance, socially, in large groups. We often treat good times, festivities, and relaxation, as inherently involving/having a few libations.
And even if this doesn’t apply to you, personally, you don’t have to look very far in our culture, to see this idea propagated. As there are a plethora of examples on social media and on movies and tv shows, to see that idea put worth.
She asks us to pause and consider: why are we drinking? What does it do for us? If it is stress relief and fun, what are we trying to escape from? Why do we feel we need alcohol to create fun rather than creating our own, in sober mind and in complete awareness and presence?
I appreciate her non-judgmental, removal of shaming anyone. She emphasizes that this is an individualized journey. The problem is not the alcohol per se but our relationship with it—culturally and individually—if you choose to question your own “boozestory,” as she puts it.
Many of us use to escape pain or seek pleasure. To cut loose, as a social lubricant, to relax, have more confidence, have fun.
But, as Warrington points out, and it’s true, she’s not wrong, alcohol really does none of this. It simply lowers inhibitions of fear and perfectionism. The true nature of our stressors or how we really feel about ourselves and our lives are still there when the alcohol buzz wears off—whether it’s a few hours later, or the next day. Or, after a shitty night’s sleep.
And it’s true. She’s not wrong.
I also appreciate her candor because sitting with the discomfort is part of how/the reason why we can grow from abstaining from alcohol or any other substances. Can we set with discomfort? Without trying to numb it?
Here, I also think it important to remember that some people’s “thing” may be alcohol, but for others, it may be food or social media or shopping/retail therapy, workaholism or gambling or sex or whatever, we all have ways of numbing and escaping. Again, alcohol is just so socially and culturally acceptance, that it can be insidious or we don’t ask these questions of it as much. “Social drinking” is a perfectly normal and acceptable category of a type of moderate drinking, for many, in our culture.
I think about my own journey with alcohol use, and—quite frankly—alcohol abuse. I know that I started to use alcohol as a numbing escapism and to help me with sleeping and to manage/what I saw as powering through all the trauma and grief, loss and stress when I was in my doctoral program. My father had just completed suicide and my mother was having a nervous and emotional break down. I often times nursed a bottle of wine before I went to sleep.
I have since, many times, over the years, also used alcohol to calm myself. Like Warrington says, the issues were still there, I just at that moment felt that I needed to pause. I felt that I couldn’t handle it all, and had to repress, to cope, to manage. Alcohol helped me with that. It served its role, that no longer works for me.
Part of my therapy work has been to feel all the feelings and to process them.
The result? I no longer feel the need to drink a depressant, a toxic substance, to calm my central nervous system down.
It really makes me think about the ways in which I believe that many addictions/active addiction relationships are due to ritual comfort seeking as methods of managing undiagnosed/treated trauma. Our bodies haven’t healed, somatically, and our nervous systems are still so jacked up, so, we turn to the quickest, easiest, most acceptable more of numbing out.
I think about the PCP I went to see, a few years ago, who said—
Well, your family members were probably alcoholics because they had anxiety.
It blew my mind at the time. No one ever framed it in that way.
Now, though, I think. Yes. And because they had depression. But most importantly—because they had trauma. Intergenerational trauma, emotional inheritance AND their own personal, lived embodied experiences with trauma.
I believe most of the time anxiety and depression and addiction are simply symptoms (we don’t wake up and think we want to become addicts—but we cope and escape, use, to manage pain), but so often they are the results of trauma, that have not been addressed and treated. Alcohol abuse and active addictions are ways to numb out the mind and body effects of trauma. But it’s also misleading, of course, because it comes back and with vengeance.
Most of us do feel worse after we imbibe, as Warrington points out. She talked about the regret. Not even major regrets of anything too dangerous or wild, but we may think about the wasted time, when we get ‘wasted’ or tipsy. We may feel sluggish, have less energy, and just not on top of our game after a drink or two, or after a night of social drinking.
In short, I really enjoyed Warrington’s book, Sober Curious. It really re-positioned alternative ideas surrounding sobriety. Places like AA and NA are great for support and counseling for others on ‘recovery journeys’. But they also treat addiction as disease—the be all and end all—and encourage the use/acceptance of the word, alcoholics and position you as powerless with your relationship over alcohol or a substance. This works for some people and they get great community and peer mediation that helps them in their ‘recovery journey.’
My relationship to/with alcohol has changed dramatically as a result of somatic healing and calming my central nervous system. Not looking to calm myself down by reaching for a depressant and over-indulging in it, has been a blessing and result of my somatic healing/therapy.
And there are many of us for whom environments like focusing on the abuse of a substance doesn’t really fit. I struggled to articulate why, but now, because I want the focus more on what I can do rather than my limitations of what to avoid. Focusing instead on the benefits of sobriety and the affordances that it has, rather than acting as though alcohol use is taboo, is not the focus/energy that I want to give it. And even in avoiding it, and why, we are focusing our energy and focus on it. I want my focus on sobriety and presence and mindfulness. Consider it perhaps the law of attraction, but that makes more sense and works for me.
That said, I’m curious instead about Sober First initiatives, which finds communities where instead of focusing on their defining addictions, instead choose to focus on the activities and fun they have in/with sobriety. That makes more sense to me. It is my kind of jam.
Rather, I instead choose to think about the ways in which I may create new neural pathways in refraining. I instead choose to focus on enjoying the benefits of sobriety/clear mindedness, the money that I save, what I learn about myself, how I grow and develop, leaning into my emotions, etc, etc.
Questioning our relationships to addictive substances, I think, is always important. However, it is all the more pressing to me, considering that I do come from a long line of alcoholics ( as mama always forewarned me of). Also, given the amount of trauma and loss, I have frequently comforted myself with a drink, such as wine, believing that—well, at least, I’m still here and if ‘normal’ folk feel entitled to a drink or two to manage life, don’t I deserve that or more for still being breathing and standing? Giving my already a depressed state of mind, a depressant, not a wise choice.
But, really, that overall mindset is too easy of a game to play. It feels like an easy cop-out, where I evade accountability and personal responsibility.
In truth, if I’m honest, that also means that I am embracing not making the best decisions and living my best life. Being my best self. That doesn’t cut it for me. Not anymore.
And I have decided, at forty, that that is a game I no longer wish to play, an existence that I no longer want to have.
Here’s to 40 and my Sober-Curiosity lifestyle. :)