One Month In: Notes on Early Sobriety
By: Jesse Bartel
Tags: Self Care, Writing, Personal Development, Creative Non Fiction, Sobriety

My journey towards sobriety started with what we would call a “dissociative episode.” It’s when, and it can always vary, you see yourself from outside of your body. These are caused by intense stress or as a response to trauma — usually stemming from childhood. I’ve experienced this phenomena a few times in my life. One of them during a terrifying case of sleep paralysis after loading up on prescription pain medication in my early 20s. I hovered above my body in bed staring at a terrified boy who saw a reflection of himself looking down. To observe yourself from outside of your body is jarring, sobering and equally troubling.

During this most recent episode, I observed an intoxicated, sad and scared man. I felt so badly for the person I saw because I knew that he wasn’t being the person he truly is. This wasn’t the guy who made people laugh and inspire others to read — this was a toxic, alternate version of that character. The version where the darkness won.

Since my late teens, I have struggled with sobriety. I didn’t have a lot of control in my life growing up and once I could start getting my hands on drugs and alcohol, I found a way to sedate my anxiety. For over a decade, I sought to quiet mind because I couldn’t handle anything I felt.

There were times that were better than others and usually I would stop abusing myself for other people — not for me, though. I never found the courage to take care of myself and would actually, sometimes, resent people in my life for preventing me from living out my destructive nature.

The thing is, there was a lot that people didn’t see — even my closest friends did not see who was at home, alone. Of course, I never wanted to talk about it because I didn’t want anyone to worry. The codependence I had with others was more important than me standing up and asking for help.

I won’t go into a long history of my fuck-ups but every day was and still is difficult for me to get through emotionally. I live in my head a lot and it’s aggressive in there for good parts of the day. I’ve had to find new ways to deal with those troubling feelings and I’m well on my way.

After a break-up at the end of August of this year, I started my binge phase and for 2 months destroyed myself every fucking night. I found myself in the exact same spot I always ended up after every breakup/stressor/crisis. I didn’t learn anything and I realized I was the problem. When you’re the constant thing in the chaos, it is you who has to change. Maybe I didn’t do anything wrong to end up where I was but my energy was creating these situations and inviting these people in. When I saw myself crying, alone and scared — it was the final straw. I have a lot to give and I didn’t want my light snuffed out.

After my dissociative episode, I thought I would first try “at-home” sobriety which would prevent me from doing drugs or alcohol at home but really, any time I met up with friends, I just had this horrible feeling of MORE punching me in the skull when I got home. I hated that nagging desire — the feeling of control over my body and emotions. But, that’s addiction for you. I realized that this was just my way for me to argue with my addictive nature or compromise with it which is ridiculous. The real problem I have with substances is that I don’t have a moderation dial and it’s either “get fucked up or nothing.” It can never be one glass — it has to be a bottle. I can’t be buzzed — I need to be blazed. There was no middle ground.

I had to stop. All of it.

So, close to my 32nd birthday, I woke up one day and did just that. Much like I did when I quit antidepressants, I stopped cold turkey. Once again, I’m not equating medication with sobriety or abuse. I think medication is incredibly important but it wasn’t serving me. I asked my employees and employers to hold me accountable and just let everyone have an expectation of me which helped. Asking for help like this was difficult because I always want to do things independently. This all stems from being an only-child and childhood trauma so asking for any help at all or even communicating this was pulling teeth but I did it.

The first 2 weeks were incredibly uncomfortable. My body felt like it was hit by a truck. My legs and joints hurt so badly I had a hard time walking without grimacing. I couldn’t sleep and the nightmares that always plague me when I’m sober were turned up to 11. That’s the other thing, when I am sober, my dreams and nightmares are vivid and unsettling. My stomach was constantly upset and I was nauseous after every meal — and I wasn’t eating much. My energy was low and I needed to rest most of time when I wasn’t working (which is all the fucking time). And yes, headaches.

But then I turned a corner.

The days looked brighter and my body felt better. I didn’t feel as scared or unnecessarily anxious (I’m always anxious but hey, great to not have something add to that). I started to jump into my hobbies with more ferocity and I took up drinking way too much soda (not the best substitute but after the abuse I put my body through, I can afford it).

The things I didn’t really expect from this early journey is that sobriety is an isolating experience at first. I found that I couldn’t just do what I used to do with my friends — I had to rewrite the code of what my friendships were. Getting fucked up or just intaking substances was part of every interaction. I became a hermit for a few weeks trying to distance myself from any threats and reimagine what my friendships needed to be. The sad thing is that I’ll probably lose people in all this because there was only really one commonality.

Another thing that surprised me about sobriety is the need to get fucked up when a good thing happens. Like, I expect to handle a bad situation or stress by that need to shut my body off but I didn’t know that the same feeling of stress was applied to celebration. During that election week when Biden was more or less declared the winner, I wanted to get so fucked up and was just sitting there like “what do I do???” I ended up drinking lots of Mountain Dew and playing video games.

As it stands now, my communication with friends and people close to me has blossomed. My self-care has started a much needed journey and paths are opening up for me. This newly found clear-headedness has allowed me to see what serves and doesn’t serve me. I can see people and situations for what they are now and not how I wanted them to fix me. I’ve made a lot of decisions in the last few weeks that I wouldn’t have a month or 2 ago.

And here is how I have been filling my time:

I’ve been taking care of my plant-buddies and telling them they are loved every day.

I’m learning to find myself attractive and knowing that others might see that too and if they don’t, who cares? I like how I look.

I’ve been spending quality time with friends and being more communicative about my internal life and struggles. It’s opened up so many great conversations that I would have otherwise kept in my head.

I’m reading a lot more! Most nights I just passed out either too drunk or high and now I have time other than the morning to read. It’s been wonderful to fall in love with books again.

And I’m just appreciating the world a little more — maybe not people so much but certainly nature and my place in all of this.

Playing more music — on both piano and guitar. I’m not an expert but I love learning chord progressions to songs because the structure gives me peace.

I have also really gotten into my Enneagram Type (4w3). Learning about this has opened up self-care for me and helped me understand why I do the things that I do.

Also, I picked a wild, fucking year to get sober. Thank you all who have supported me in ways big and small. Your love has helped me, too. Thank you for all the messages and I hope to write again in a year with all the changes I expect are coming. Thank you.