My Sobriety’s Labyrinthine Beginnings

Transcribed & adapted version of Denise Walker’s Detox Podcast Episode One - Maze (07/23/2018)

Featuring the poem, ‘Maze’ by Denise Walker (Pick Your Poison 2017)

MAZE
my mind is a maze without any exits

where the only way (we think) is through

you’ve never been here, & neither have I

has anyone?

you told me, “you can’t trust your own mind

it’s going to get harder before it gets worse”

& you were right

every turn, we’re back at the start

& the start is darker at every turn

when did we get here?

how did we get so lost?

it’s been five labyrinthine years

& all I think now is, 

are you even here?

am I?

because you told me, 

all those years ago, you told me,

“you can’t trust your own mind”

I wrote this poem in early 2017—I was still drinking heavily at the time. I’d been fully addicted for about 5 years (yet the more I reflect and gain distance from it, I can trace my addiction back much further). At this point, I knew something had to change and I actively wanted to stop drinking.

In Canada we have something that’s called ‘Bell Let’s Talk Day’. It falls annually at the end of January and invites people to talk about mental health and ending mental health stigma. There are lots of advertisements that circulate prior, and on that day, Bell Mobility donates 5 cents per text or call as well as for any social media post containing the hashtag #BellLetsTalk. On that day in 2017, I scrolled through so many stories and posts made by friends—all sharing their own struggles and journeys with their mental health. The more I scrolled & witnessed, the more I felt like such a fraud. My whole life I had been a major advocate for the de-stigmatization of mental health. I grew up with a Bipolar father which made it impossible not to be passionate about it. Yet, here I was, self-stigmatized and suffering in silence. I sat there, scrolling, terrified and so full of shame from this addiction I was hiding. No one except my closest family and friends knew I had a problem. Even then, they didn’t know the true extent of it. I was so inspired by all of these people I knew, loved, and worked with that I couldn't keep it in anymore. I took to Facebook and outed myself. This is what I posted:

“Bell Let's Talk Day was yesterday. I've been reading posts my friends have made and it's given me the courage to talk about my own struggle. I'd love to say that posting today is a symbol of carrying on the message every day, not just on Jan 25, and it is, but it's mostly because I was absolutely terrified to do so yesterday.

Everyone sees me as this bright and undyingly positive person. I am, but with that brightness is a darkness. I struggle with alcoholism and almost all the time I feel completely alone in it. I want so badly to be healthy. I've been trying so hard to eat well, sleep more, exercise... but alcohol will always be there to bring me down.

I don't know how to talk about it. I don't know who to talk about it with. All of it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I have sought professional help and I can't say if it helped or not. I'm terrified of how my friends and family will see me. I am afraid if you see me with a beer or a glass of wine, you'll immediately begin to worry. I don't want that; so until now, I've stayed quiet.

But I don't want to suffer in silence anymore. We all need an ear sometimes, and that includes me.”

There is a lot in this post, especially the labeling of myself as an ‘alcoholic’. I see that label so differently now, at 15 months sober (the Author is now 43 months sober). I much prefer the term ‘Substance Use Disorder’ but even that doesn’t feel right. I don’t relate to the idea of being disordered. Really, how I see it is that I have a human brain that over-learned as human brains do. The term ‘alcoholic’ is one that gets under my skin. I labeled myself as an ‘alcoholic’ simply out of ignorance. I didn’t realize that there were other terms or other ways of looking at alcohol addiction that didn’t include the word ‘alcoholic’. There is more weight to that word that I ever realized before. Holly of Hip Sobriety (now Tempest) has an amazing blog post on this subject called “9 Reasons Why the Term ‘Alcoholic’ Should Die Already” and it sums it up way better than I could so please head there for a deeper dive but the meat of it for me is that the term ‘alcoholic’ describes someone with an incurable disease. Alcoholism is, by definition, a disease. I don’t agree with that. My addiction was a result of my brain overlearning the importance of a substance. Because I used alcohol so much, my brain began to recognize it as something that I needed. My prefrontal cortex, where I make decisions, handed over the responsibility of drinking alcohol to my midbrain (where survival instinct lives). My brain thought that I needed alcohol to survive so it behaved accordingly. You can teach your brain anything. You can reprogram it to believe anything. It takes some really hard work but it is entirely possible. The term ‘alcoholic’ also places the blame of the addiction on the person, rather than the inherently addictive substance. Alcohol is designed to be addictive and it’s never the fault of the addicted person that they find themselves addicted. There is nothing wrong with me. There is nothing wrong with you.

In that Facebook post there was a very clear cry for help. I didn’t know what I was doing or how I was going to do it, and I admitted it in that post, but I asked for help and help is what I received. Pulling the trigger and publishing that post was a major catalyst in my recovery. I continued to drink heavily for 2 months after I wrote it but the pieces of my life started to shift. So many people reached out to me that day. Friends, acquaintances, and coworkers messaged me, hugged me, and made me feel heard and loved. It was so hard seeing those people in person for the first time afterwards but it was too late to take it back. I would have to own my addiction and I did that by continuing to share openly as I made my way to recovery.

One of the people who reached out to me was my Youth Minister from when I was a teenager. I met her for coffee multiple times (in the evening as to try and stave off the witching hour). If you’re unfamiliar with that term, witching hour, it speaks to that 5pm - 6pm time when the cravings kick in big time—usually after work or as the day is winding down and our brain has exhausted itself and goes into autopilot and we drink. On the surface, these meetings with my Youth Minister would have seemed moot. I was still drinking after each get-together. All they seemed to accomplish was delaying the inevitable daily drinking. But what was happening was I was speaking my desires out loud. Someone was listening and supporting me and showing up for me. She held space for me and more things started to shift and realign. It’s her words that sparked the inspiration for MAZE. I was talking about the struggle between what I wanted, which was sobriety, and my inability to break the cycle. I talked about how frustrating it was and how I couldn’t wrap my head around what was happening inside my head. She told me that I couldn’t trust my own mind—a concept that delivered an understanding I didn’t previously have. She was right—how could I trust a mind that stabbed me in the back every single day? Every day, I promised myself that I wouldn’t drink again. Every day, I woke up and promised myself no more. Then the witching hour struck and I betrayed my promise. Every day. Because of this constant self-betrayal, I couldn’t trust myself and that is an extremely disorienting thing. Suddenly I saw two minds, my True Self and my Ego. Before that moment, my mind was just a mess of conflicting streets and alleyways that I kept getting lost in. Finally, I could see who was battling for the steering wheel while I sat involuntarily strapped into the backseat. My True Self, or Higher-self was understanding, compassionate, and unconditionally loving—she always tried to drive us home. My Ego, or Lower-self was judgmental, selfish, and devious—he always drove us to the quickest fix. Alcohol fed the Ego and therefore fed the disparity between my two Selves. The void gaped and threatened to annihilate. I was lost. I was lost but for once I didn’t feel so alone. I felt trapped but I finally had enough footing to try to escape and take the wheel back into my own hands. 

If you are feeling lost and scared and confused, the only way (I know) is through. There is no easy way. You can trust your mind, you just need to know which part. The best way to learn which is to get distance from whatever is confusing you. Quit. Leave. Do whatever will move you towards freedom. Above all, speak your desires out loud to someone you trust. Let your wishes be heard and you’ll be surprised how your life begins to shift.

AA not for you? How I got sober: Tempest Sobriety School

You can listen to episode’s of Detox Podcast at www.anchor.fm/detoxpodcast or on your favourite podcast platform.