Growing Up Sober

I’m reading a lot of new blogs lately and most are written by the newly sober.  I try not to comment too much because I think sometimes it’s better to hear from those that are feeling the same things you are feeling at the same time.  Does that make sense?  Anyway, sometimes I chime in with encouragement while trying to keep it to my story and not get all preachy about it.  No one likes to be told what to do.

I’ve also been thinking about what I have to offer to this sober community and where my voice should live now that I’ve passed from newborn sober person to preschool sober person.  So many of the bloggers that started out with me have dropped from the bloggersphere and “gone dark” so to speak.  Many just don’t need the experience any longer and I soooooo get that.  Sometimes you just don’t think you have anything left to say.  Been there…done that…got the t-shirt.

It didn’t fit.  So I write.  And I grow.  In fact, I’ve grown from a newborn to a toddler who’s off to preschool. 

As a newborn mother fucking sober ninja lady, I needed the same things a newborn baby needs.

• Lots of sleep.
• Permission to cry, loudly until I got what I wanted.  Until someone picked me up. 
• Lots of cuddling and cooing.  Babies need to feel warm and loved and safe and so to the newly sober.  I needed hugs and kisses and “atta girl’s” and “you go girl” and “I’m so proud of you.”  Even when it felt uncomfortable to hear, I needed to hear it. 
• Encouragement to do the things that others take for granted.  Things like walking and talking and learning to exist in the big bad world of grownups and scary things…like sobriety.  The sober world can be a scary place when you’ve never been there.
• Spoon feeding (and I mean that in the literal way as well as the philosophical way).  I needed to try new foods and the experience was so much better without the booze.  I also needed to be spoon fed the way to be and act as a sober person.  I needed patience and understanding as I worked my way through each phase of my sobriety.  Each time I reached out and grasped a new concept or experience, it felt like a baby reaching out and grasping a finger that’s placed in its palm.  At first it’s just reflex, but then, over time, it becomes as natural as breathing.
• Applause.  You know how a baby is taught to clap, or do “so big”, or play “Patty Cake” and everyone says “Yay baby!” and claps and smiles and laughs?  Well I needed that too.  I needed people to laugh and smile and clap when I announced 1 week and 30 days and 6 months and 9 months and 1 year sober.  I needed people to applaud when I managed my first sober wedding, first sober birthday, first sober holiday season, first sober funeral, first sober anything.  I needed confirmation that I was doing it right and that although it was hard, it would get easier…with practice and love and patience.

Now I’m older.  I’m no longer a newborn or an infant.  Now I’m a toddler.  As a toddler mother fucking sober ninja lady, I find I need the same things any preschool toddler needs.

• Encouragement and permission to make mistakes.  I’ve just begun to know myself and I screw up…a lot.  My foot has been in my mouth so much that I’ve thought about painting my toenails with toothpaste to save time.  I’ve over extended my self more than once by assuming I could handle an experience, only to learn that there are some activities that, because I’m sober, I’ve outgrown.  More importantly, I’ve learned that it’s okay.
• Just like a toddler learns to make friends in preschool, I’m learning how to make new friends in sobriety.  That doesn’t mean I’ve lost my old friends (although I have lost a few), but making friends without alcohol is, well, different.  It’s more authentic.  I feel more vulnerable. I don’t rush to make friend commitments because I’m feeling insecure.  I’ve learned to just be and let the relationships happen as they happen.
• I’m figuring out who I am in the world the same way a child who has left their home and entered preschool for the first time learns who they are.  It’s no longer about my safe little cocoon of family and close friends, it’s about functioning in society as a sober person…as a real person for the very first time.  It scary.  It’s also a shitload of fun.
• With that, I’m building self-esteem from the inside out for the first time in my life.  Like a toddler, I’m a little wobbly in this regard.  Small children have gravity to contend with when trying to do things like walk, ride a bike, swing or play on the see-saw.  They also have to contend with other children who want to knock them down to get what they have.  When it comes to my self-esteem and inner heart, I have things to contend with as well.  Things like an inner voice that jabbers on and on about how awful I am, or ignorant people who say or write things about addiction that are just plain stupid (I’m talking to you Margaret Wente), or time that continues to march on and take me to another phase of my life…like it or not.  I’m learning what I can control and what I can’t and that what other people think about me is none of my business and has no reflection on who I am as a person.  I’ve learned that I get to decide who I am as a person.  That’s a freaking powerful experience. 
• Also like a small child I’m learning to share and play nice with others.  I’m learning to ask for what I need and not feel guilty about it.  I’m learning to share openly and honestly and to love unconditionally regardless of the circumstances.
• I’m learning that while I don’t always want to take them, naps (breaks, meditation, yoga) can be a good thing because I don’t always make the right decisions when I’m tired.  I get grumpy and throw hissy fits when I’m tired.  It doesn’t look good on a four-year old and it sure as hell doesn’t look good on a 52-year-old. 
• I’ve learned to take things at face value and trust that things will work out.  To live for right now…today…this minute. 
• I’ve learned to keep an ear out for the ice-cream man because a treat can be a good thing.
• Most importantly, I’m learning to look in the mirror with the eyes of a four-year old who’s been loved and nurtured for all of her four years.  I’m learning to gaze upon the reflection and notice the good things, just as they are, staring back at me.  Four year olds who have been nurtured and love see only what’s there.  They don’t see what others have told them to see.  They look in the mirror and see love.

Namaste