‘Wisest is she who knows she does not know.’
Jostein Gaarder
from Sophie’s World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy
There is a part of me that longs to know. To be certain. To be right. I need to know that what I think and believe is true. Sometimes I see things in stark binaries. This is right, this is wrong. This is good, this is bad. I need to know that I am making the correct decisions, that I am living my life a way that is right, and good.
This is what our capitalist culture rewards, from when we’re little children sitting in school desperate to win a gold star of approval. We must get the answer right. We must not admit that we’re not sure. We must not admit that we do not know, lest we be punished.
And also this is true: I long to embrace the unknown. To trust. To accept that I do not know what is right for anyone else, only what is right for me. To accept other people’s views and opinions with grace and humility. To accept I might be wrong. To accept that many possibilities might be true.
To accept that we mostly don’t know; mostly we are choosing what we believe. This is as true in the world of addiction and recovery as it is anywhere.
What I do know is the truth of my own experience. That is what I know. That is what I can share with you.
I know that when I believed I was defective and sick, I was trapped. When I believed I was an ‘alcoholic’ I was so swallowed by shame and separateness that I could do nothing but drink to try and make those feelings go away. When I believed I was different from most people, and had to sequester myself away in rooms with other sick souls, I felt utterly hopeless for the life I had, and the life that lay ahead of me.
I know that when I read This Naked Mind my life completely changed. I know that finding Annie Grace’s book saved my life. I know that when I believed that I wasn’t diseased but healthy and normal, I felt hope.
I know that when I learned about how addictive alcohol is, and how addiction is a state that any normal human brain can get to, I felt acceptance. When I learned that neuroplasticity means our brains can change, I could see a way to heal. I know that when I believed that I could completely remove my desire to drink, and live my life totally free from the trap of addiction, I, for the first time in my life, was on the path to lasting sobriety.
I know that this information and these beliefs got me where I am today. I know that I am not taking it ‘one day at a time’. I’m not white-knuckling it. I know that I am free from the desire to drink.
I know that as I write these words I am marvelling at it all. Marvelling at how I am where I am now. Unspeakably grateful for Annie Grace and her bravery in putting her findings out into the world - even when she was heavily criticised by people who thought she was teaching lies. I know that I am in awe of her for keeping going, even when she was told by some that she was ‘going to kill people’. When as far as I can see she’s helped thousands of people find the path to freedom from alcohol addiction. Including me.
I know that people who become addicted are just as worthy of love and help as anyone else. I know that people who are addicted are not ‘addicts’ or ‘alcoholics’; they are normal human beings who have been trying to cope with enormous pain. I know ‘there but for the grace of God go I’ is true. I know that humility is an underrated gift.
I know that I was never sick. I was never bad, or crazy. There was never anything wrong with me. I know that my feelings of loss, anger, grief, loneliness, self-hatred, despair, all made sense. I know that my behaviours made sense. My addictions made sense. My pain made sense.
I know that I am a whole person, worthy of love, and always have been. And I know I still feel shame for my past. I know that there still lives inside me the belief that, deep down, I am hateful and unlovable. I know that I still keep myself caged because I am afraid to show my darkness. I know that I am afraid of my own darkness. I know that there are dark parts of me, secret longings and desires, that call to me sometimes.
I know I shouldn’t be admitting all this. And I know that I should be, because I am human, and complex, ever-changing, confusing and confused, just like everyone else. I know that nobody has it all figured out. I know that I want to appear as if I have it all figured out.
I know that I am fiercely protective of my younger self. I know that I bloody love her, and think she was a misguided firecracker of a person. I know that I may still be a misguided firecracker of a person. I know that I feel proud of myself. I know that I will always be the only person who truly knows what I’ve been through and what it’s taken to get me here. I know that I almost didn’t make it. I know that I’m grateful beyond measure that I did.
I know not everyone will get me. I know not everyone will like me. I know that I wish this were not so.
I know that I’ve walked with grief and loneliness and self-hatred and despair. I know I want to help people who feel like I have. I know I don’t want anyone to feel as lonely and hopeless as I have done.
I know I can’t save anyone but myself.
I know that no one has anything wrong with them.
I know that you reading this are perfect, and whole.
You matter, and I’m grateful you’re here.
If you’re new here - welcome. I’m so grateful to you for reading my words. I’m Ellie: a sober coach, mentor, mother and writer living in Lewes, East Sussex, UK. I support courageous women to break free from alcohol for good and step into the life they were always meant to live.
A Little Fantastic contains personal stories, supportive practices and information on what alcohol actually does to our precious bodies. My journey to quitting alcohol was one of unravelling so many beliefs I had about alcohol, and myself.
If you would like support on your own journey you can take a look at my website. I offer free 30 minute taster coaching sessions, and am always here to chat via email or on a Zoom call.
Ellie this is so beautifully expressed … and SERIOUSLY good company to read. What a gift for the rest of us that your are sharing yourself in this way ♥️ Thank you !!
Goodness, this is a fantastic article. Agree with everything. I still need to read this powerful book!
I sometimes use the words alcoholic or addict purely to describe the types of behaviour someone exhibits, even for my former self. But I know people aren’t those descriptions at their core.
And what pleasure it is to not know everything. What beauty there is in the subjective mysteries of life…and people. Thank you, Ellie.