why I'm addicted to recovering
plus a summer catchup
Well, hello there. It’s been a while since I indulged in this newsletter space — blame all the summer-ing? It’s been several weeks of travel, camping, sitting in the sun, weeding/watering, and swatting ‘squitos. It’s also been a time of reflection, healing, laughing, bawling, cuddling with my cat, and chatting with my teen.
I wish I could say I have so much to show for my summer, yet I keep coming back to this Georgia O’Keeffe quote: “I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.”
Tomorrow, August 5th, will be my 6th month AF anniversary. And while I don’t tend to call myself “sober,” I do like to talk about how I’m “in recovery.” It’s a subtle difference, but one I wanted to explore.
Since I began questioning my relationship with alcohol (and society’s, for that matter), I see the world differently — not through a judgmental lens, but with more compassion and understanding. Learning about the biological components of addiction has helped me understand (not judge) the behaviors that often accompany it. This understanding has allowed me to extend more compassion to others and, importantly, to myself.
When I abused alcohol, I now realize it wasn’t due to a moral failing or personal weakness. Whenever I drank too much, it was because I thought it was helping. Understanding this about myself helps me to understand why others turn to their addictions.
I believed it slowed my busy brain, helped me relax and have fun, and calmed my hectic life. But after all the work and learning I’ve done over the past six months, I know that alcohol didn’t actually assist with any of that — if anything, it made my problems worse, not to mention the toxic effects it wreaks on the body.
It doesn’t help that much of society reinforces the message that drinking is the solution to everything. Feeling celebratory? Have a drink! Sad and broken-hearted? Have a drink! Overwhelmed as a single mom, chasing a deadbeat dad while working full-time and getting a PhD? Have a drink! Worried about the state of the world? Have a drink!
Now that I’ve got these alcohol-free eyes, it’s wild how alcohol-centered our society is. This addictive substance is central to our culture, yet there’s little space for those who inevitably succumb to the addictions that can follow its consumption.
It’s quite a dissonance to witness in action. For example, it’s common for women to celebrate and embrace the “mommy wine” culture of today. There are countless shirts promoting drinking as self-care, with wine glasses labeled as “mommy’s sippy cup.” Yet, when a parent drinks too much, the systemic influence gets ignored, and the blame solely falls on the individual for their perceived weakness to drink.
I hate that alcohol is often sold to women as a way to cope with a difficult day or as an escape. Mamas need help, not to be victims of an advertising culture that cares more about their addiction-driven support than actually providing help to an overwhelmed parent.
Using the word “sober” to describe my choice to be alcohol-free doesn’t resonate with me. It might be semantics, but I find the word evokes a judgmental shortcut I want to avoid. When people hear “sober,” they automatically think “alcoholic” — a very black-and-white way of describing the spectrum of alcohol abuse. (Annie Grace has a great video explaining why I don’t use the terms “alcoholic” or “alcoholism” to describe alcohol abuse.)
[I’m also not a huge fan of much of AA’s philosophy, though I acknowledge the importance of connecting with others in a community, which AA does well.]
I prefer telling people that I’m “in recovery” when discussing my journey, while also teasing that going alcohol-free is my latest act of rebellion. The etymology of “recovery” comes from the French word meaning “to get back,” and I love that as a metaphor. The choice I made six months ago was really a choice to “come back” to myself — and honestly, I can feel it happening.
Recovering — “returning to” — is going to be a lifelong choice and process for me.
This year, I took on my relationship with alcohol, and I already feel more like myself. What’s next on my list to “recover” from? Glad you asked, because I’ve got a running list going: I’m ready to recover from my social media use, question my sugar consumption, resist listening to my inner critic’s voice, and more.
What would you like to recover from? Do you need to return back to yourself? Come sit next to me on the recovery bus!
Oh the summer-ing of 2024!
The trip back home went well.
We climbed Grandfather Mountain, and walked on its mile-high bridge, and did a quick shop in Boone, NC. There were many Pal’s trips for peachy teas and frenchie fries — plus I ate so much pimento cheese and had a watermelon shake. I got to dye my nephews hair again, and thankfully did a good enough job not to land on a Brad Mondo video.
We also checked out the country’s cleanest bathrooms and ate beaver nuggets at Buc-ees, hiked a bit of the Appalachian trail along with some kick-ass senior citizens, watched fireworks with the terrible Lee Greenwood soundtrack, went to Johnson City Pride, and I got to humble my nephews at Uno (again).
I love and miss my family.
The rest of the summer has been a busy blur.
Emma and I went on our annual Blackstrap grrrls’ camping trip, Danny’s had a couple warm-up triathlons before the big event in Penticton later this month, I’ve been berry-picking in the summer sun and canning in my air-conditioned house, and there’s been lots of gardening in between it all.
One special thing that happened this summer was my community garden decided to award me with a “lifetime membership” to our green space, in appreciation for all the years I served as registrar with the committee. Despite all my haranguing of award-giving and the negative effects of the performance model, it felt really nice to be recognized by my community for the years of service I gave.
Things that have been bringing me joy over the past few weeks:
Two years ago yesterday, we received the call that Eli had passed away — a day that forever changed our lives. While death and grief are never something one can truly “get over,” I am so proud of how Danny has used this time to honour his boy’s memory. A couple of weeks ago, Danny and Eli’s mom held an event to kick off a scholarship program in Eli’s name for the local group Right to Skate. It brings me joy to know that so many kids will get the equipment they need to start a sport that Eli loved so much.
I’ve put my purple chair out in my front yard. Please take this time to learn about harm reduction efforts. It matters.
Court update: Our chambers date is now set for Friday, September 13th — I’m telling myself it’s good (not bad) luck. At this point, I just want Emma’s dad to do the minimum and provide financial support, which he hasn’t done since January 2023. I have no idea how court will go, but I have immense empathy for anyone going through the Family Court process. IT SUCKS.
PhDing: I will not panic that it’s August. I will not panic it’s August.
I am very very happy that Joe Biden is no longer the Democratic nominee for President. I went to the “white women for Harris” call, and it’s taking all my self-discipline to not immediately go volunteer for the campaign (your grrrl has a dissertation to write). It has been fascinating to watch the last few weeks of Trump imploding, along with the resistance to his movement flounder. I feel hope for my home country for the first time in a while, but it’s still a long way to November.
Watching: Sorry / Not Sorry (Louis CK sucks forever), Reading: One Small Mistake by Dandy Smith, Listening: “sad girl soul crushing monday morning” Spotify playlist (it me)
Meme of the last few weeks:
My fave so far Bek. You e inspired my new emotion based goal. High praise indeed 😂👍
Oh friend! This was so beautiful! I forwarded it to my favorite grrrls, multiple of whom have some similar relationships with alcohol and such. I LOVE YOU!!!