We live in a world restricted to expectations, bound by what is thought to be the ‘normal’ narrative and subject to the pressures of our exterior selves. I know all too well the debilitating imprisonment of an unhealthy mind, shaped by what we trust to be ‘normal.’ Quite by coincidence, or in truth the inevitable, the trials of the Summer 2020 served to highlight more than I had anticipated it ever would. While the world stopped and drew a closer bond with children and partners, while families took walks and completed yet another puzzle, I was about to obliterate any sanity I ever possessed and break my family I so loved.
I am an alcoholic.
Stunted by my own selfish desire to have routine and structure, I found myself plunged into the abyss. I was in this overwhelming place between somewhere and nowhere. Time held no value; routines had no priority, and my four walls became my prison. I was only ever an evening drinker up until this point, but now as the hands of time bore no authority I would drink whenever I liked. I clung on to the notion that everyone was partying with me, that this was happening to everyone, that I was not alone doing this. But I was alone, my soul as empty as the bottles I surrounded. I made many mistakes, mistakes that still engulf me with guilt and regret. Days and nights I would tuck my wine away more lovingly than my own children, concerned deeply of its whereabouts and the time I would have to self-indulge in another drunken foray. Days I spent participating in my own pity party, while my children watched helplessly. I spiralled and I spiralled fast, catapulting from one disaster to another, each crazy decision fuelled and signed off by alcohol, my alter ego unleashed. But as I hit the metaphorical rock bottom, I knew the only thing left to do was to use this as my foundation to begin rebuilding my life.
I have been sober for 9 and a half months. The early months were a cacophony of mental fights. The interior of my brain was lost, confused, angry and wanting. I would dream of alcohol. I would hear and then must ignore the constant whining of the drink demon, ‘go on, just one.’ I battled and I still battle hard. I had taken the first steps to realising my worth, I had acknowledged my problem, I had admitted it to myself, and I was taking action. I didn’t want to be that person anymore. The ear numbing silence I forced myself to listen to, made me turn and face the person I had become.
Today I can have the presence of mind and being. Where once the changing seasons were defined by dark nights and red wine to light nights and white wine, I am now wholly emersed in my reality. Where once I would blather on incomprehensible nonsense, I can now hold intelligent and meaningful conversations. For me, the biggest and most wonderful change I have noticed is in my children. Where once I was a tree stripped of its leaves, stood out in the cold, uninviting, with no hope of protection, I have flourished and awakened to the small pleasures in life. I am no longer just trying to survive; I am no longer looking for whatever it was I seemed to be endlessly searching for. Now I am thriving, and with thriving comes opportunities. I now tuck my children safely in bed, I read with them, walk with them, take chances with them, and can truly see the small things that mattered to them, that before I would shamefully dismiss. Most of all, I have rebuilt their trust in me to be present and involved in their lives.
The road to recovery, although sometimes challenging, now feels comforting and hopeful. There is such pride to be taken from encapsulating everyday sober and without guilt. Alcohol no longer consumes me. I have found an unprecedented power in sobriety and my strength has come from me and me alone. There is such bravery to go against what society tells us is fun and to change the ‘normal,’ but I consciously do this daily and often wonder why this warmth of light didn’t come to me sooner. Sobriety is not a sacrifice but rather an opportunity and an honour to be worn with pride and upheld as one of the toughest fights I will forever face.
Article by Emma Roberts
