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Day 50 of no drinking. Here is what I learned:

I feel more. I love more. I smile more. I am more grateful. I can pull off pink 🙂 Feelings are hard. I still let people down. Not everyone will like me. I still say the wrong thing (a lot).

 love this photo. It was taken weeks ago. On that day I chose not to share it. I felt posting this picture would be misrepresenting the struggles I was having in sobriety and life, and would dishonor the support so many were providing. I actually thought, “How dare I smile?” But in this moment I was happy. In the middle of all my questioning, I felt joy to spontaneously visit my dear and amazing friend. In this moment I was present and safe.

Pictures are just small snapshots of our lives. You cannot look at this picture and know my struggles on this journey. It would be easy to make assumptions about my life. We should all be mindful of this as we interact with each other. We cannot know a person’s past or the circumstances that led this to a moment. We do not know their stress and anxieties; their experiences or biochemistry. We must meet them with kindness and patience and try not take take things personally if negative reactions arise.

“This man beside us also has a hard fight with an unfavouring world, with strong temptations, with doubts and fears, with wounds of the past which have skinned over, but which smart when they are touched. It is a fact, however surprising. And when this occurs to us we are moved to deal kindly with him, to bid him be of good cheer, to let him understand that we are also fighting a battle; we are bound not to irritate him, nor press hardly upon him nor help his lower self.”

I think sometimes when we feel one way, we think it is wrong to feel another. Pain and joy can coexist. You can be happy and sad at the same time. No one thing defines you. Feel it all.

When life is hard, it can be easy to be ashamed of the happy moments. Don’t be. Allow yourself to be happy. Even for a moment.

Seek the moment. For in a moment you can remember.

How to breath…
Why you are doing this…
How to feel happy…

Sometimes a moment is all you need.

My goal is to write something lighter and more inspiring 10 days from now. As much as I tried I just kept coming back to this topic. Thanks for letting me hold myself accountable to you.

For a week I thought I’d write about vanity, addiction and discipline. For my post (and a little bit to irritate Jenn Ciccarelli) I set out to take the yoga picture that would capture the story. After looking at the photo, my heart had something else to say.

I met Kathy over about 4 years ago, a few months after I entered recovery for substance abuse and a few weeks into starting yoga. I started an 8 week basics of yoga class at small shala in Buckhead. I knew next to nothing about yoga. My only exposure to yoga was from a girlfriend in graduate school. The teachers used words I didn’t understand: Ashtanga, Mysore, bandhas. Little did I know this would turn my life upside down.

There were two teachers Jennifer and Kathy. My schedule was such that I went to Jennifer’s class. She was amazing, funny and very patient with me. Then one day, there was Kathy. Maybe she was subbing or maybe I showed up on a different day. I don’t remember. I just remember her class being harder. I think her usual cohort was further along in the sequence. The slightest adjustment from her caused sweat to pool on my mat. There was no pausing; just moving from one asana to the next. She was trying to get me to take controlled long breaths. I was just trying to breath. I made a note. Avoid Kathy 

That was so long ago. She unknowingly was about to embark on a life changing journey with me over the next four years. A journey where I battled addiction, struggled with identity and behaved selfishly.

She has consistently been there; always in the room to lead practice.

I have given her plenty of opportunities to give up on me:

Showing up for practice hungover, if I even showed up.
Quitting for weeks at a time.
Barraging her with texts of drunken gibberish and sadness.
Refusing to move to the front of the room 

I whine. I fuss. I don’t always want to do the work, yet she meets me with patience and kindness.

She taught me to keep showing up.
She reminds me to breath.
She holds me accountable.

She is a great teacher.

Kathy Cushing Koher you are one of the most amazing humans I know. Thank you for believing in me.

Day 350 snuck up on me. It is crazy how quickly ten days (or your life) can pass. I have been sober almost a year now. So young in my sobriety I am still experiencing many things for the first time.

The holidays have always had strange effect on me. I love the season. I (too) often break out (poorly) singing Christmas songs in the office (sorry) from I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas to Wham’s Last Christmas. However, as the Christmas spirit grows around me I begin feeling more and more like I don’t belong anywhere and feel very alone in the world.

If you thought I drank a lot, I drank twice that during Christmas. Within minutes of arriving home, I would pour a glass of whiskey. I would sit, drink and go through the motions while ignoring both the past and the present. On Christmas Day, I would drive back, pick up a bottle and drink on the couch leading to crying for reasons I will never understand until I passed out.

I grew up with what would appear a storybook Southern Christmas. Most of my entire family lived in or near the small town of five hundred I grew up in. All the aunts, uncles and cousins would gather at my Granny Bootsie’s house. But holidays were always hard for me. I dreaded them. It seemed everyone had something to talk about but me. I felt like I had very little in common with the people around me. I was shy, nerdy and awkward. I didn’t want to play two hand touch in the backyard, and if I did or didn’t, I was made fun of. I didn’t hunt nor do I care to. I found myself just wishing I was at home playing with the Star Wars toys that Santa left under the tree. (Hint: Star Wars stuff is still favorite gift.) I just didn’t fit in.

Last Christmas was particularly impactful. As a drove home on Christmas Day I heard George Michael died. 54 was too young. Drunk, I texted mama and asked how old my grandfather was when he died. “57, heart attack complications due to alcoholism” Six days later I stopped drinking.

For the first time in two decades I will be sober on Christmas Day. For 20 years, every year, I would show up but not be there. This year I will be there Mama. I love y’all.

The date March 31st holds a special significance in my recovery story.
See I didn’t just “wake up” one year and decide to get sober. I had known for years — more than a decade.
My birthday falls on the last day of the third month of the year. I often used this fact to challenge myself to do or not do something through my birthday ~ 90 days most years.
Some years were more successful than others.
Two years prior to getting sober, I successfully committed to not drinking for 90 days.
At the time it was a huge accomplishment for me. At the end of the 90 days, I felt great, I lost weight and I was happier — maybe even less of an asshole at the time, but on April 1st — by lunch if I remember correctly — I ordered my next whiskey.
The thing is in that year, I really wanted that 90 days to be forever. For a plethora of reasons that would take me writing a book to examine, I “chose” to pick the bottle back up.
Over 15 years there were countless tries and days-long streaks I so desperately needed to stick. I was not strong enough to make the changes I needed to make in those moments.
45 feels heavy. Not because I feel old. In fact I feel holistically the healthiest I’ve ever felt.
But I am left asking why am I so lucky? Why after so many years of sabotaging my own life do I get to have the great job, amazing friends and a wonderful relationship. I did nothing special. I’d argue I did most things wrong.
Somehow I didn’t give up. What was once a wish to die became a will to change. I kept listening and kept trying.
It took many years of failed streaks to get to where I am today.
Don’t worry about how many times you tried before just please don’t give up.
Be a goldfish.

Early on Jan 17 2017 I received an email.

“I saw on FB that you’re going to quit drinking and increase your yoga for 60 days and I just wanted to wish you luck. You can do it. I know [that not] drinking has been on your mind and I wish I knew the magic words to tell you to make it easy to give it up….All I can tell you is that my life has not lacked in any way without booze. It’s been better. As Brene’ Brown says, you can’t selectively numb. If you numb the pain you also numb the joy. “

Whatever you decide, I know this 60 days has the potential to give you some clarity and possibly help you figure out what you need to do. ”

I told everyone it was going to be for 60 days — you know one of those first of year health challenges everyone can rally behind — but in my heart I knew I needed to stop drinking for good. For some reason I felt I needed the world’s permission.

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” Romans 7:15

No one could physically put liquor in my body but me, yet I had never been able to stop drinking. I had convinced myself all my successes and friends I had were because I drank the way I did. Yet I was destroying my own mind and body.

I had many compelling reasons to stop, but I seemed to be my own enemy; like a passenger in my own body wanting one outcome only to witness quite the opposite.

“Whatever harm an enemy may do to an enemy, or a hater to a hater, an ill-directed mind inflicts on oneself greater harm.” Dhammapada v.42

I would spend the next couple of months exploring how to rebuild my mind. The effort has turned into a years-long journey. I have been blessed a hundred-fold since. I am so grateful.

My decision wasn’t a New Year’s resolution nor was it a health challenge. It was a necessity.

There is nothing magical about the first day of a new year, tomorrow or Monday. If you want to change something about your life, you can start this very minute. If you are not successful, try again. Don’t give up. Ask for help.

I choose to be open about my challenges with addiction in hopes it helps someone make the changes they want to make in their life.

Happy New Year!

Jan 1st 2020: Three Years Sober Today

Three years ago armed with nothing but hope and a hypothesis I went on a quest to change my brain and my life

I’ve spent the last two years diving into eastern and western philosophy, neuroscience and psychology. I’ve spent countless hours trying to distill my thoughts into words.

If you had known me as a kid, you’d be surprised to learn I became a drug addict.

A combination of random events and circumstances, the place I was born, the prevailing culture, the genes I inherited, the people I encountered — who are but products of yet other random events — all left subtle and gross impressions on me, carving pathways that would affect how I perceive and deal with the world.

Spinoza, revered philosopher of Einstein and Heisenberg, reasoned,

“There is in the mind no absolute or free will; but the mind is determined in willing this or that by a cause which is determined by in its turn by another cause, and this by another, and so on to infinity.”

I made bad choices that took me down a path I never intended.

I can see how addiction plagues the country. Once there was a time where it was common to enjoy sitting on a porch in silence with friends but now we all scramble for novelty and acceptance.

So many of us sit in shame because we are told we sinful, are broken or lack self-discipline. It is more accepted to talk about how fucked up we got the night before than admit we are sober.

We spend time pursuing academics and career growth while our minds get weaker and are hijacked for profit.

Who is investing in teaching us how to better navigate choices, how to guard and control our own minds?

The chemistry may be complex yet the explanation is simple.

We do not have as much control over our choices as we think we do.

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. ” Roman 15-16

I think we can all identify with Paul’s statement. No one understands it better than the addict conscious of their addiction.

We must change how we think about addiction. People are suffering and many of us don’t think we can ask for help.

I have been your son,

brother,

friend,

roommate,

and coworker.

I am an addict.

I am human.

Happy New Year!