I sit on the wooden bench in my garden in the morning. My legs crossed under me, book in my hand, sipping my coffee. Behind me I hear the bees buzzing as they visit the purple flowers that tumble over the wall. I feel the warmth of the sun on my face as it rises in the clear sky.
And I notice myself resting in this. In this moment of deep calm. I feel so deeply grateful. I feel safe.
I remember that in my early days of quitting drinking, it didn’t feel like this. Sitting in nature; just being. I had to try it out. See how it was for me. Notice the discomfort, the anxiety, the restlessness that would arise. Often it was just a case of seeing how long I could stay before having a drink. Stay with myself. Stay with the feelings. Stay with discomfort I felt at being alive.
I didn’t want to feel fully alive and present. I didn’t want to feel the sharpness that came with that. I wanted to soften the edges of life; to feel less. That seemed to me like safety. Bringing it all down. To be sedated so I didn’t have to be in reality.
It took practice to learn to stay for longer. To see: is this OK? Am I safe in this experience? Will my feelings really kill me, as I feared they would?
Or… can I hold them within me? Can I allow them to be as they are? And in the same moment: can I acknowledge how tough this is?
It was the place between choosing not to live the way I had been, by using alcohol - and the unknown. Between ‘not this’ and ‘what, then?’ Not knowing if I could really live my life like this. Could I really survive without alcohol?
This peace I feel sitting in my garden: this didn’t happen straightaway. I didn’t stop drinking one day and immediately find inner calm. But I kept trying. I trusted. I knew that alcohol was no longer an option. I was committed. It took time and sometimes that was frustrating.
I wished to be one of those people who just stops. I was so jealous of them! But that wasn’t my path. It took me 20 months of going longer and longer periods without drinking. Thinking ‘yes! This is it! I’ve finally cracked it!’ and then a trigger happening - either emotional pain or overwhelming feelings from socialising - and I would drink again.
Often I’d have to take a few days to reduce my alcohol use, weaning myself off it, before I’d get back on track again. It was frustrating, absolutely. But each time I brought myself compassion. I said to myself: ‘it’s OK Ellie, you needed to drink that time. What can you learn from it? What did you need? What can you do differently next time?’
You can always start again. This moment is always your starting point. You never go back to square one or day one; you have learned so much. Growth is happening. And despite what our society leads us to believe, growth and change are not linear.
I tend to think of growth happening in a spiral rather than a straight line. A process of forgetting and remembering. Going back to the pattern, seeing what it’s like, asking ourselves: do I still want to do that? Learning, always. And when you look back over a long period of time you can see that you were, indeed, moving closer and closer to where you wanted to be.
If you think how many years we teach our brains and bodies that alcohol is the way to feel safe, that alcohol is always the answer, of course it will take time to teach our brain something new. See if you can get curious. Can you notice? Can you allow yourself feel it all? Acknowledging that yes: part of me hates this. Yes, part of me wants to drink. Yes, there is anxiety. Yes, there is discomfort.
And… is there something else? Can I listen to the sound of the bees… or the bubbling of the river… or the wind in the trees? And just notice that.
Can I breathe in deeper, just for now, in this moment? Can I feel the breeze tickling the hairs on my arm? Can I watch a blackbird hopping about, disturbing the dry leaves as it searches for insects?
Can I say: ‘yes, I am alive. In this moment I am here. I am here.’
That’s all. That’s it. You don’t have to force yourself to relax or feel safe or feel calm. Whatever is here, is here. Whatever is here, belongs. Can you stay here – just for a moment? Can you be here now, just in this moment? And notice what that’s like for you.
Your next steps…
If you’re looking for a guide who can walk beside you on your path to freedom from alcohol, I would love to be that person. I offer 1:1 coaching where we will explore:
the unconscious beliefs you have about alcohol and see whether they are really true
how alcohol really works on our brains and bodies (e.g. this is what that ‘relaxed’ feeling actually is)
loving ways you can bring yourself comfort and care instead of drinking
how to be with your feelings
how to develop self-compassion
how to cope with cravings
how to navigate sober socialising (I have a free guide on my website to get your started)
what you really want and need in your life
what truly lights you up and brings you joy
Book a free chat with me or drop me an email at hello@ellie-nova.com.
I know it feels hard right now. And it won’t always be this hard. Sobriety doesn’t have to be a daily struggle. You don’t have to take it one day at a time. You can, like me, get to a place of true freedom where you have no desire to drink. You can live the life you may not have even dared to dream of.
Read more from me….
The day everything changed
On 18th April 2018 I clicked on a Buzzfeed article titled 26 Tips For If You’re Trying To Drink Less Alcohol, For Whatever Reason.
Alcohol is the problem, not you
Alcohol is an addictive substance to humans. If you’ve tried to quit or cut down and found it difficult or even impossible, do you know what this means? It means you’re a human who is struggling to control a substance that is addictive to ALL humans. Some are more at risk than others, for example if you’ve experienced trauma.
I found the bigger fear to be, just as you said, learning to do the days without the old mental crutch. A journey, but so worth it. Once awake, I don't wish to go back to sleep.