My 6 Month Journey... a journaling exercise.

I’m 6 months sober. I’m lucky. My wife has always been aware and sympathetic of my addiction. She saw it happen. We met in college. She saw me go from binge drinking at 21 and 22 to full-on alcoholic at 32 (now 33).

In my recovery, meditation and journaling have been pivotal for keeping me grounded and mindful. So I’m typing this for myself. If you want to read it and engage, I’d love to chat too. Group work is part of recovery. Trigger warnings for alcohol, pills, infertility, probably other stuff too, not sure where this will go.

My relationship with substances:

My family consists of social drinkers, and a few drug users. My parents were social drinkers from what I remember growing up. My mom was 19 when she gave birth to my sister, 3 years prior to me. My dad is one year older than her. That said, my dad has alluded to drinking a lot in his 20s, but never said it was an issue or talks about it.

First drink like "haha" from a bottle was when I was young, there's a picture, I think I was 4. I don't want to ask my mother… she feels guilty. But my first beer by myself was at 10. Grew up in a small town, so my sister’s friends were my friends, or at least I hung out with them. Her being 3 years older, summer before high school was when kids started going to "high school" parties.

My parents had the mentality of "we'd rather let you do it and know the details than have you sneaking around to do something stupid." Which, at the age I am now, I respect that. I think the idea was right, just poorly executed.

My sister had friends over to drink often and I joined. Casually at first and then more and more. I was always big for my age—weight and height.

By the time I was in high school, they were getting me and my friends 30 racks and a handle of vodka for parties... sometimes MORE. I would drink the leftovers from the weekend over the week, and when my parents asked I'd just say, "we drank most of it and want to have back up" or something, but we got it...

During this time, I wasn't really living at home. We did go to my house some weekends and party there, but my parents didn't love that. I had a buddy whose parents were super lax about partying and really everything... girls could stay over, etc.

I was sleeping there most nights of the week, smoking and drinking. At 16 I got my first car and that just gave me access to a whole new world.

Let's take a step back though. This sounds really concerning. Meanwhile, I was living a functional binging alcoholic life at 16. Drinking hard at night, wake up and get my shit done. Rinse and repeat. I seemed like "a good kid." I got mostly As and Bs with an occasional C. I got a job the week I legally could start work, had off and on girlfriends, good friends, teachers liked me, work liked me, was on the baseball team until I got a job.

I did see a drug counselor at school, but I always lied, just used it as an excuse to miss things and to get attention. I wasn't taking it seriously, I was having fun and not thinking about future consequences. Addiction doesn't affect ME. NO WAY.

Hopping a bit all over, but I need to introduce another layer to all of this. My job gave me even more access. I worked at a particular drug store with 3 letters. So to level set, I'm now drinking heavily and spending most of my money on that, weed, and chasing tail.

Well the internet showed me erowid.com when I was 16 and I discovered that dextromethorphan can be used recreationally. Guess who has a ton of that? Guess who had easy access to steal it?

I was buddies with the managers, I went into the office with them during close to chat (door open) while they counted money. I took note of the blind spots on the cameras. I kept a strict schedule and did what I was told. If you're predictable, so are the people around you.

I stole a ton of DXM products from there and surrounding stores. Same brand and not. This went on while I was 16 and 17. I would take low doses during the day and then a lot at night. The drinking stopped. The smoking mostly stopped. I was full-on addicted to it. 120 was my waking dose. 8 of those 15mg red devils. This was a pleasant buzz where I could function, but some days I would get ballsy and overdo it. A buddy took me home "sick" more than once because I decided to take too much and was noticeably robo walking.

My god as I type this there is so darn much... What a long strange trip it's been.

When I was 17, there was a concert I passed out at a state away. My buddy had to call my parents. They got me from the hospital. I played it off as "I tried weed for the first time, I'm sorry it was so scary" bull. We all knew it was, but I wasn't admitting otherwise.

For a few months I lived sober. I gained freedoms back slowly. I was going to college in a few months anyway.

The college I went to is a large party campus. Drinking picked right back up. This experience is not very unique and I'm not going to go into the details of 4 years of binge drinking and occasional drug use in college. I can tell you during this time it was the same schtick as high school. Party hard, but get my shit done.

I did start to notice the world is getting bigger. Consequences were bigger on this stage. Life was getting more serious. I lost girlfriends over the sauce, missed classes, was late to work. To me it was still just a giant party.

The key difference was, I found a larger crowd like me. A friend group that based all activities around drinking. It was easy to be a degenerate when everyone around is acting the same way.

In junior year, I met my absolutely lovely wife. I had long-term relationships before, but boy I fell head over heels for her.

By the time I met her, I was fully-blown drinking at work-study and before class alcoholic. I hid it well for a while. During our junior and senior year it wasn't uncommon for us to grab a drink before/after class even if it was like an 11 a.m. class... With this being a fact, it wasn't hard for me to drink all day.

We never lived with each other until the summer of our senior year, before we moved to my home state in our first apartment. I got a great job at a tech company (I'm still there, 10 years last week) while she finished up grad school in the drivable state we went to school in. Guess what I did? Work and drink. I never knew it was noticeable until a girl I got close with told me the day she met me she could smell me but never after that, so she thought I had a lot the day before or something.

Well the girlfriend moves in after grad school and real life sets in. Drinking is causing havoc. The last 12 years of my life have been on-and-off alcoholism. Smoking too, but that has never been an issue for me and is not destructive like my drinking. So when I was smoking and not drinking, those were "good times"..... white-knuckling it and refusing to get help.... this went up until about—

Fast forward to six months ago... I was horribly depressed, my anxiety was at an all-time high.

My cycle was basically have a full week of drinking and say I will stop after Sunday. On Monday pop a Xanax to try to fight withdrawals… but when I lost to cravings, I was just full-on drinking on Xanax.

Then Tuesday I would feel like shit for failing. Usually get through most of the day, but by dinner time end up telling my wife I’m weaning off. Then I would have like 8–15 drinks (anything I could get), sneaking most. Which wasn’t enough for me. So when I couldn’t sleep at night, I’d take an Ambien.

Then by Wednesday I already drank most of the week (in my mind) and I would just go to full-on drinking.

Rinse and repeat. I was actually doing well at my job. I was drinking enough to get by during the day, then hit it hard at night. I work remotely so smell and access were not an issue.

To add to this, my wife and I had been trying to conceive for about 1.5 years by that time. My wife was wanting to do IVF. I'm terrified and selfish and don’t want my party to stop. I don't want that at all. I was satisfied with me getting drunk, us having sex, and me just neglecting to give anything constructive to our relationship.

I went to bed most nights not wanting to wake up in the morning. I got past the idea part and had started making plans. Never put them in motion.

THE GOOD PART:

Today is now 6 months and 8 days sober. After one last vacation we had planned, I took leave from work to get sober.

I started an intensive outpatient program (IOP) at a recovery facility. I didn't want to go. I almost didn’t go the first day. Let me tell you, it saved my life and is one of the best things to happen to me.

Intensive is the proper word to describe it. Three group sessions a week, at 3 hours EACH, and 1 hour with your individual clinician.

The group was 8–12 people. We started with meditation, then psychoeducation, and then individual check-ins/shares. The time commitment works twofold as it physically occupies your time, but also you’re getting a ton of information about addiction and coping mechanisms. Legit, the curriculum was super helpful for life skills… not even just addiction. Communication styles, mindfulness, relapse psychology, coping techniques, healthy relationships, CBT, boundaries etc.

It changed my life. It changed how I view things, interact with people, respond to situations. This coupled with the clarity of mind from not drinking and getting on the right meds... It was like that freaking Limitless movie the first few months—you couldn't touch me. That’s how it felt, lol. Obviously it wasn’t that glorious.

I meditate 2+ times a day now, journal most days, a lot of exercise. I’m doing even better at work, I've picked up a couple dope hobbies. I fell back in love with my wife and I feel our connection is the strongest it's ever been. We did a lovely family session with my clinician.

Things I'm working on with my therapist:

My shame and guilt for feeling like I wasted my 20s and missed valuable moments and ruined moments with my drinking. My wife is a saint.

I was consistently sexually abused as a child by a neighbor. To be determined what that means in relation to my use and how to truly process it. I never have.

I have a great relationship with my parents still. They tried to parent me through my 20s and I didn’t realize it and how much stress it caused me. Getting sober and getting therapy and realizing what more common boundaries are... I’m hella resentful for that and for access to booze. This is a big one.

I can say I’m genuinely the happiest I’ve been in 10 years. I have bad days like anyone else. That said, my wife and I re-found love, my job is very good and interesting enough, I have a nice home, a good dog, spare time. I’m living a lot of people’s dreams. In IOP and therapy, they say not to look at it like that, but it’s hard not to factor that in.

The biggest change is obviously how in touch I am with my emotions. Others’ too. I shit you not, friends I've known 10–12 years from college... it was like talking to them sober for the first time. Wild.

I’ve lost 50 lbs in these 6 months. I have confidence back. I love hiking with my dog and go 3–4 times a week, went all through the winter... snow and everything.

I still have my moments, but I’m genuinely happy.

A Minor Hiccup:

Ten days ago, I took DXM… two days after we found out our first IVF transfer failed. I was heartbroken, but my wife was devastated… she completely broke down.

Since getting sober, I’ve watched her sister have a baby… my sister have a baby… and now her other sister is pregnant. Our friend groups are full of babies too. The grief isn’t just about the transfer… it’s the pain of ambiguous loss. We’re mourning something we never had… and it’s everywhere.

She coped by drinking, which triggered me. I couldn’t drink… I’m on naltrexone and wouldn’t feel it anyway. Plus, I didn’t want to betray that line. But DXM felt like a loophole… not alcohol… not traceable… so in the moment, it felt justifiable.

I haven’t told my wife. She’s overwhelmed… and my therapist, who’s also been through IVF, agrees it’s best to wait until things settle. It was a one-time slip… and I’ve worked through it in therapy.

This was also a few days before a work trip to… of all places… Las Vegas… my nerves were on fire.

I took this one in stride. I told my therapist the events and she said, "I'm not surprised at all with the events following up to it," or something like that.

Shout out to my clinician who is an amazing person and great at what she does. She has been so helpful to me and even my wife. When I told her about the IVF stuff, she offered a family session... really to get my wife in there. Of course we talked about my recovery, but the majority was her talking gal to gal. One person who did IVF and one doing it. It was amazing. That meant so much to me. After the failed transfer, she texted my wife to ask if she wanted to talk. For free. On her own time. What a rock star!