I’ve always struggled to explain how I felt in the early days of my sobriety, but it seems that the longer I stay sober, the harder it becomes. I’ve been told that it was because of all the chemical changes happening in my body, or maybe it was because I was so obsessively focused on how I felt. Yes, self-centered in the extreme, my feelings had run (and ruined) my life.
And what about my mind? Well, someone once said, “My mind was like a BB in a boxcar!” Yeah. Makes me tired just thinking about it! I was on a rollercoaster of emotions—anger, self-pity, excitement, depression, loneliness, loss, more self-pity, guilt, shame, fear of people, thrilled, terrified … you get the picture. It wasn’t fun. In fact, it all made me thirsty, since I’d relied on alcohol to make me feel normal; and the thought that I might be struck drunk at any moment kept me perpetually tense.
So how did all that change? The simple answer is that out of desperation, I made up my mind to listen and do what the folks in recovery suggested—and those are two miracles, right there!
I quickly found out that they loved their little sayings (I called them Boy Scout slogans). They made no sense. “First Things First” apparently meant that I needed to block out all my other problems and focus on the one at hand. Easy for you, maybe; but not for me. I am a multitasker when it comes to handling all my problems—and some of yours—all at once!
Then there was “Easy Does It.” Really? Are you kidding me? How am I supposed to take it easy when I have all these problems? If you had my problems, you’d drink, too!
My first tool in sobriety was called The Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” I said it over and over—and it worked. Oh, I know about the warning Jesus gave concerning “vain repetition” of prayers in Matthew 6:7, but I wasn’t trying to badger God into giving me anything. Repeating that prayer was all I could do because I couldn’t concentrate long enough to come up with my own words. My other prayer was “God, help me.” It was the best I could do at the time.
Little by slow I figured out that if I tried one suggestion each day, my life kept getting better. Actually, life didn’t get better; I got better!I got a haircut and started to dress in nicer clothes. I began to feel happy when someone celebrated a sobriety milestone. I actually began helping out with simple things for my recovery group—and occasionally tried to encourage those I sensed were struggling.
Of course, I didn’t see those changes happening. Others noticed, and began pointing them out. And as uncomfortable as this was, I began accepting their complements because they made me feel better. Slowly, self-worth began to creep into my life as God placed the most amazing people in my path to help me recover … I only wish I could remember them all.
I started making better decisions, too. It wasn’t a conscious thing; it just happened. My new friends told me that it was because I was willing to take suggestions—and as my sober days began to add up into months, I began to think that I might—I just might be able to get what they had.
As my life changed, so did my conception of God. My parents had never tried to scare me with the idea that God would send me to hell if I did something wrong; but I’d decided that I was too far gone to be saved. Now though, here were these new friends who told me about their understanding of God. They believed in a loving God who had saved them from a pitiful alcoholic death—a God who understood their weakness, gave them power to overcome, and wouldn’t give up, no matter what they did, or had done. I began to feel like maybe I’d gotten some wrong ideas about God, and eventually I told Him I was throwing out everything I thought I knew about Him so He could reveal to me who He really was! As I learned of His mercy and grace, I began to trust Him and develop a new willingness to let Him change me from the inside out.
Ideas and attitudes which had guided my life were cast aside, and a completely new set of principles took over my mind. This was very noticeable—even to me! Something had happened deep inside me; but although I was happy about it, I was also terrified! I’d always known myself by my character defects; but now, as they began to be removed, I didn’t know who I was anymore. It was all happening so quickly!
Recently I took a vacation trip to Massachusetts, alone. And while I reflected on the benefits of solitude, I felt an amazing calmness, and thought, So this is what emotional sobriety is all about!
In simple terms, sobriety is the condition of a person addicted to alcohol or some other mood-altering substance who successfully abstains from its use, and from other associated habits, while addressing the root causes of their dependency. It means adopting a new outlook on life, and in a broader sense, refraining from excesses of any kind.
And then it hit me. My whole attitude and outlook on life has changed completely! By the grace of God, I can be alone in perfect peace. I have more energy because I don’t waste it foolishly on trying to change the world to suit me. I’m accepting, loving, kind, and interested in how I can help others today. I’m hard working, trustworthy, and live one day at a time—just as Jesus instructed us to do when He said, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matthew 6:34).
Yes, God has given me emotional sobriety and I don’t want to go back to the way things were. Ever. The rollercoaster I was on for so many years came to mind, and I smiled. I can watch others ride it, I thought. But I don’t ever have to get on that thing again!
