sober lifestyle

Awareness

One of my new favorite follows on Instagram. Check him out at @corymuscara.

Since starting my job as an addictions counselor in late January, Iโ€™ve devoured several books on the opiate epidemic, from โ€œDreamlandโ€ to โ€œDopesickโ€ to โ€œEmpire of Pain,โ€ and everything Iโ€™ve read, combined with everything Iโ€™ve seen, has expanded and enhanced my self-awareness. I keep having the same thought:

Iโ€™m so lucky I never had abundant access to pills.

Iโ€™m lucky the oral surgeon I ran to in a crisis, 7 or 8 years back, prescribed only enough Percocet to get me through a weekend until he could yank my radioactive cracked tooth the following Monday.

The pain from that f*cker had been blowing up my head for days, but the effect of the opiates instantly blew my mind. I will never forget the incredible numbness that overtook my body when I swallowed that first little white disc; it was like someone tripped my โ€œOFFโ€ switch, without sapping my energy, and activated some kind of secret superpower while ensconcing me inside an impenetrable shield. I felt indestructible, like I could run through walls and leap tall buildingsโ€ฆor leave the house and talk to people without anxiety, fear, or shame! ๐Ÿ˜ฎ

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Maturity

I never paid much attention to, or put much stock in my age โ€” until I became the oldest person in the room.

My supervisor at work recently told me, on two separate occasions, โ€œWeโ€™re assigning you this client because we think they need an older counselor.โ€ And last week, when I mentioned taking off for my milestone birthday, a 20-something coworker goes: โ€œWow, you look great for 45!โ€

Each time, I kind of stopped in my tracks, thinking, โ€œHuh. So thatโ€™s how these folks see me.โ€

By the way, what do people think 45 is supposed to look like? ๐Ÿค”

Well, hereโ€™s me on April 7, 2023: 45 years old and 45 months sober ON THE SAME DAY! ๐Ÿฅณ
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sober lifestyle

Personality

When forced to interact with others in group settings, I typically have two speeds: Anxious over-talking, and total shutdown silence. My brain fires off frantic messages as I vacillate between modes, and more often than not, the result is cringey awkwardness.


This is why Iโ€™ve always sidestepped social situations when presented with a choice. Alas, avoidance is impossible at this counseling job Iโ€™ve been scrambling to get a handle on since late January.

Each day, Iโ€™m tasked with navigating the tricky dynamics of vastly different client and coworker personalities, while trying to practice a craft I only started studying 18 months ago and stay on top of an ever-growing list of administrative duties โ€” Iโ€™m starting to get calls from probation officers, yโ€™all! ๐Ÿ˜ณ Meanwhile, Iโ€™m replaying past sessions over and over in my head, certain that I totally f*cked everything up.

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Willingness


To call it โ€œright livingโ€ sounds a little sanctimonious, but Iโ€™m not trying to paint sober folks as holier-than-thou saints. I quote this lovely passage from the AA literature because it speaks to my personal experience.

After 44 months of continuous sobriety (as of Tuesday), the โ€œpromisesโ€ they talk about in the 12 step universe are definitely coming true in my real world.

Living alcohol-free and working a recovery program is bringing me more satisfaction than anything I might have achieved or acquired in my 20 years as an addict. No, Iโ€™m not, like, totally satisfied with where Iโ€™m at. Thereโ€™s much to learn and room to grow. Still, waking up today, compared to four, five, 10 years ago?


Translation: No comparison.

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Fitness

The other day, while sitting in my office trying to take deep breaths and clear my head between back-to-back therapy sessions, my phone vibrated with a text message. It was a marketing blast from a local gym I used to belong to in a former life.

Hey Jen! How are you doing with your fitness goals since we last saw you? If we can help, give us a call!

I let out a guffaw. โ€œFitness goalsโ€โ€ฆha!

The Jen they โ€œlast sawโ€ four or five long years ago, bears such little resemblance to the person I am today that I doubt anyone at the gym โ€” or any of my old haunts from the pre-2019 era โ€” would even recognize me. And Iโ€™m not just talking about the physical effects of aging and a sedentary lifestyle.

Jen circa 2023 needs professional help, for sure, but it ainโ€™t so I can improve my clean-and-jerk numbers or learn butterfly pull-ups.

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Immersion

The content of this blog has landed me in the crosshairs of Employee Assistance (at my first marketing job, circa mid-2019) and โ€œAggie Careโ€ (during the initial culture-shock days of grad school at Delaware Valley University, in the fall of 2021).

Concerned parties read my raw reflections on mental health and addiction and sounded the alarm: ๐Ÿšจ Achtung! Thereโ€™s an alcoholic in our midst! ๐Ÿšจ And I was taken by surprise both times, being ushered into a glass-walled conference room in the middle of a work day for an eval by an ADP consultant, and receiving an obligatory email from the head of the psych department while sitting in class. It felt like I was back in first grade on one of my frequent powwows with the principal; if thereโ€™s one thing Iโ€™ve always kicked ass at, itโ€™s being a mischief-making squeaky wheel!

Hard to believe Iโ€™m the one whoโ€™s applying the grease now, isnโ€™t it? This past week, I started seeing clients one-on-one at my new part-time counseling job, and it was one of the most mind-blowing experiences of my entire life.

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Hope

Tomorrow is the day I officially start meeting with clients โ€” in my own office, at a real drug and alcohol treatment center, for pay.

Holy mackerel; life comes at you fast!

One month ago, I was newly a unemployed copywriter scrambling to find a counseling internship before the start of the grad school semester.

And 43 months ago, I was gutting out the first day of a scary new life without alcohol, not having the slightest inkling of the new NEW life I would be living in recovery.

So there was only one way to spend this day โ€” my official sober month-iversary โ€” and that was to get up at 4AM for a lovely moon- and headlamp-lit run through the state park, grab a quick shower, and log onto a virtual 12-step meeting to share my โ€œexperience, strength and hopeโ€ as a very grateful guest speaker (who kept her story under 20 minutesโ€ฆscore!) And then, to crash under an avalanche of emotion just after breakfast, nearly forgetting I have to show up for a class tonight โ€” in person.

I canโ€™t get out of it. I tried. ๐Ÿ˜ฉ

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sober lifestyle

Leap

I started my new job this week, and thank goodness theyโ€™re allowing me to ease into the actual counseling part, observing and shadowing other therapists before I meet with clients face to face on my own.

If you saw me on Day One, getting lost multiple times in the circular hallway, walking in on a colleague in the bathroom because I had a master key in my hand and too many new things overwhelming my brain, and then getting slammed with my monthly cycle, complete with painful cramps, in the middle of a staff meeting, youโ€™d understand that I was not ready to put forth my best self in the service of others.

Then again, will I ever really be?

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