I celebrated Six Months Sober June 22, 2022.
a week ago today, I wrote the date on the top of my morning pages and the day count next to it (DAY 183), i couldn’t avoid it:
i’ve been sober for SIX MONTHS
stone-cold sober
for all of 2022 thus far.
it feels surreal. moving through life linearly, one day at a time— walking along the horizon of time, it felt innervating to be able to stack that time up, look at its height, and say: yo, that’s tall. this is not an experiment anymore, this is my life now.
twenty-four hours at a time.
six months have passed since i was trapped in my Honda CR-V, fearing for my life, calling my parents on the third day of the drive, only when he was out of the car getting gas or screaming into his phone— too afraid to call for help until then, stuck in the vortex of him— only to abruptly hang up when he opened the car door: “WHO WAS THAT?”. six months since my ex-fiancé was screaming at the top of his lungs about anti-natalism / how having children is unethical (a daily monologue, mind you) as i drove us down a North Carolina highway, en route to New Orleans to spend Christmas with his family.
in the beginning of our relationship, 2.5 years before, i asserted one and only one boundary: if you yell— on the phone or at me— i will leave the room.
i do not tolerate yelling.
but gripping onto a steering wheel, having asked him to stop yelling at me multiple times to no avail, with nowhere to go but forward on the highway, i finally screamed back:
I DON’T YELL BUT YOU’RE MAKING ME YELL.
“if you’re gonna have a panic attack, you should pull over,” he calmly replied.
and then i remembered that i was driving.
having preached TCB (Trust, Compassion, and Boundaries) all fall for the release of It Doesn’t Have To Be Awkward, I couldn’t ignore the ticker tape of words that had been scrolling out of my mouth for three full months: if you don’t have the three elements of TCB— TRUST, COMPASSION, and BOUNDARIES— your relationship is dead.
the final thing that i thought was unshakeable—my trust in him— blew to shreds. once the trust was severed, once i realized he was putting me in danger, screaming at me while i was driving, only then could i see: that trust was the final thing holding us together. my unwavering belief in the fact that he made me feel safe was gone.
over the last 2.5 years, he had become my higher power, and i had finally lost faith.
and that’s the thing about abuse, it’s like a gas leak: you don’t smell it til you’re passing out. if you’re lucky, you recognize the symptoms, GTFO, and call 911. otherwise, you have to hope someone finds your unconscious body and drags it out of the building.
you stay until something truly awful happens.
a lot of people don’t get out.
and holding onto that steering wheel, blacking out as i was pushed to screaming back, i knew that if i kept driving down that road, i would die. maybe not physically, but spiritually and emotionally. now i can see, i was already dying.
it was only then that i could see that since the moment we got engaged seven months prior, he had not shown me any semblance of compassion, and he had been steamrolling my boundaries from the very start.
i finally could see that i was on the brink of death.
from that moment forward, i had no choice but to leave.
i couldn’t numb, dull, or abate bad feelings.
we had run out of weed, and it had shown me how much we needed it to stay together.
i could no longer ignore what was right before my eyes, in the name of being comfortable. because that’s the thing about being comfortable:
just because it’s familiar, doesn’t mean it isn’t destructive.
it was only because i wasn’t stoned for the first time in five years, that i could hear and feel the burn of the toxic waste spewing at me— i couldn’t just smoke a dab and try to lose consciousness, as i had done for years before. i had to listen to my intuition and the red flag that had been flying in my face for the last two years
six months since my best friend told me she would “not be mending her relationship with him”— that, despite her telling me six months before the fateful car ride, “You don’t have to wait until things blow up to do something,” she was finally saying: things have blown up, and I am out. Choosing between my best friend of a decade or the man who terrorized me in a car for three days made my choice extremely clear.
six months since the day we arrived in New Orleans, and he told me that he would only go to rehab if i promised never to procreate.
six months since my shoulders hit my ears, unable to blink or breathe, as i boarded a 4 am flight to Los Angeles.
six months from crash landing at home, falling to my hands and knees screeching, sobbing, dry-heaving the moment i saw my mom.
six months from my final glass of chablis at my mom’s birthday celebration dinner, my official sobriety date on my mother’s belly button birthday.
six months since the universe granted me what i could not grant for myself: a new beginning, another chance at life.
i’ve been meditating on writing this newsletter all week, but could not find the time to sit down and plow through all of my feelings while preparing to leave for NYC. and in the wake of Roe v. Wade being overturned last Friday, it feels weird to dive into an exploration of self, when the rights of so many people are being revoked.
in the same way that, for those of us with uteruses, the right to unbiased and necessary healthcare has been revoked, it just exposes how our right to health and safety can be can be stolen from us in a moment’s notice in this country.
however, the precarity of proper and unbiased health care reminds me of the nature of sobriety. it can be gone in a flash: it’s not about how far you are from your last drink, but how close you are to the next one. all it takes is one day of faulty thinking, and you’re off the beam.
if i don’t remain hypervigilant about my program: attending at least one meeting a day, calling *at least* 3 other sober alcoholics, maintaining my spiritual practice and morning pages— that stack of time could tumble over and disintegrate. disappear as quickly as it began.
if i forget how fragile and precarious this stack of days i’ve built is, i could lose it all.
if i take a hit off of a cute little joint or a sip of someone’s crispy Asahi, things may not crumble immediately. but in due time, i will be back in that car, trapped, fearing for my life. and maybe, it will be even worse than the first time.
i refuse to ever put myself in danger.
i refuse to go back there, ever again.
in the name of remaining hypervigilant in support of reproductive rights, i am going to donate this month’s proceeds of the newsletter to various abortion supporting organizations. if you would like to support the newsletter and pro-abortion organizations, i recommend a paid newsletter subscription.
i also recommending following my friend Mingus Daniels-Taylor, full spectrum doula, for more info in regards to which organizations are best to support— there is so much information and MISINFORMATION being spread, that is important to defer to trusted sources. i always defer to Mingus when it comes to knowing where to support— you should too.
additionally, i also have the good fortune of being a part of the Substack Grow program this summer, so i will be writing this newsletter with more regularity. things are changing— like, now i know not to put my best content behind a pay wall! which is why free subscribers are getting all this good, good!
i would also like to facilitate community among you, the readers! so, keep your eyes and ears peeled— we gonna build community, friendships, and support!
TEN THINGS THAT KEPT ME SOBER FOR THE LAST SIX MONTHS
one recovery meeting a day— in person or virtually (though, nothing beats in person. i got sober on zoom, but i am so thankful that was an option).
Finding the right sponsor. in my six months of sobriety, i have had five sponsors. the first was one day long, but he was the first person who, when i heard him speak, i thought, “I WANT WHAT HE HAS.” but, because he’s male, it was only temporary; the second one called me “Pauline” and didn’t pick any up my phone calls— spoke to her voicemail more than i spoke to her; the third wanted me to make her my higher power and to cure my eating disorder, as well as my addiction— telling me i would never stay sober if i didn’t submit to her will; the fourth was incredible, but lived in Santa Cruz, and i got to a certain point where i wanted to start building community in person; and my fifth sponsor works a RIGOROUS program, and truly lives in the sunlight of the spirit. i am so, so, SO THANKFUL to have found her.
treating my sponsor how i should have always treated dating: temporary, testing until i found the right fit. it felt good, to advocate for my sobriety, for myself. i learned how to push through my fear of confrontation, and how to put my sobriety and wellness first. i learned how to end things with integrity, rather than being avoidant or detonating the relationship like my life was a Michael Bay movie.
Reading “On Awakening” (p. 86-88 in the BB) every morning and doing my morning pages (three pages, stream of consciousness) every morning, NO MATTER WHAT.
i journal nightly as well— sitting in my bed, i record the day, thoughts and feelings; and then i do a prayer list and a gratitude list.
sober fellows— calling three a day; nothing beats talking to another alcoholic.
EMDR Therapy. my new brilliant therapist and her introduction of EMDR. additionally, she taught me how to do bilateral tapping when i don’t have access to EMDR itself. she also introduced me to meta kindness mantras, which i pair with bilateral tapping every night before bed
i am calming my body/ i am calming my mind/ i am okay, right here, right now
may i be free from fear/ may i be healthy/ may i be happy/ may i live with ease
may i feel joy and happiness/ may my good fortune increase/ may my sources of joy and happiness increase/ may i feel gratitude
addressing my codependency — at Pia Mellody’s Facing Codependence
developing and maintaining physical and emotional boundaries! every day practice, but very much changing my life!
getting thirteenth stepped. it showed me the patterns that preceded my addiction— my addiction to crushes and love and men. and how willing i am to submit to the idea of something, even as my boundaries were transgressed, time and time again.
if anything, it taught me how to sit in my sadness— it felt more convenient to mourn the end of a two week intensity affair than the end of a 2.5 year relationship, leaving New York, and getting sober. it taught me how to sit with my difficult feelings, which i had never done before.
learning how to sit with and honor my emotions. in the program we talk about “Staying in the Solution”, which, if you’re about to drink or use, is excellent— go to a meeting, call a fellow alcoholic or addict, etc. etc. but sometimes, the “Solution” is to sit with the emotion you’ve been running from.
the only way out is through. the more you avoid it, the longer it lingers.
Leading the Artist’s Way. The Artist’s Way, i can now see, was my first attempt at sobriety. and it was only on my fourth go around that i was able to do it. every other time, i’d go in with the intention of staying sober, only lasting a week or two week. and now, i have the good fortune of leading others through it, sober. i want to thank everyone who has trusted me with their artistic journey, and i am so honored that i get to lead 20 more people through the 12 week journey as well. since 2020, i have lead 50+ people through the 12 week spiritual workbook, and i am so honored to have had that many new, brilliant artists in my life.
Next session will be Jan-March 2023! if you want more info, check it out here. if there’s a lot of interest, i would consider doing Sept-October 2022!
my writing clients. the opportunity to guide new writers through their own writing journeys has been one of the most beautiful experiences of my life.
since the fall, my sixteen year old client has been published in various teen zines, started a literary club at her school, and has started a novel that she plans to spend the summer writing. another client of mine has been with me since before i got sober, having executed NUMEROUS chapters of her memoir, which she has been hashing and rehashing for the last ten years; plus, she just submitted to a memoir contest, with excerpts from said chapters!
even more new clients keep coming into my life, having found me in various and unique ways. i think my clients are self-selecting, and i don’t take it lightly that they reach out and find me. it is an honor and a privilege to be able to show up for them. and it inspires me more than they could ever know.
if you would like to be one of those clients, fill out the form. i will be in touch.
And bonus number ten? 10.2?
You’ll have to join the paywall to read that!
in the comments, share something you’re celebrating, a sobriety milestone or something that you’re proud of from the last six months— i’m dying to hear from you!
don’t forget to share and subscribe!
remember: all subscriptions this month will be going to reproductive justice organizations. not only will you have access to bonus material, but you will be fighting for the rights of American uterus owners!
either way, i love you. thank you for being here.
TCB,
PP
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