aAt first glance, sobriety looks clean on social media, but it’s relatively easy to achieve. A quick search for sober motivations includes things like making plans that don’t involve alcohol, spending time with friends who support your choices, trying something new (like mocktails!), and going for a walk. A colorful list of advice will be displayed one after another. To fight cravings for alcohol. The posts are often accompanied by an influencer with white teeth standing in a bikini on top of a mountain.
The internet paints a picture of sobriety with smooth edges, with occasional snags of vulnerable vulnerability. A woman puts her toddler on a swing with the caption: “I was here drinking vodka and getting excited.” A word tile that says, “I find it easier to control inebriated women.” Darkness creeps in, but then it goes back to normal programming. Memes and hashtags and sunrise diaries.
I quit drinking three months ago under the illusion that it was as easy as buying leggings with offer code sobergalclub. However, I still haven’t noticed any improvement in my sleep quality or productivity. As an influencer who has been sober for 30 days, I look back on my years of drug and alcohol use with “no regrets at all.” I have endless regrets. My cup is overflowing.
It was my first time to go hiking.
Since getting sober, I’ve been busy dealing with the periodontal disease I’d been ignoring and the thyroid disease I’d been covering up with alcohol. I’m in bed by 9 p.m., claiming that’s supposed to be my new happy place, but the paralyzing pressure to be in an optimal state keeps me from thinking, I struggle with “having a cup of good food” and “curling up and reading a book.” I recreated my look overnight and lined up my bikini for a photo shoot the next morning.
The tribulations of addiction receive attention online, but are generally not covered in detail. Before and after photos may be published – here’s me as an alcoholic, here’s me sober. Or a post that alluded to a past struggle with addiction before finally finding the bliss of sobriety. There is a feeling that sobriety is the solution to all of life’s problems.
It is a world where addiction is history and sobriety is the finished product. Sober influencers have climbed out of the hole of addiction and emerged at golden hour, frolicking under waterfalls. They reach their destination and share their experiences as a way to inspire others to follow the same path.
I’m happy with them, but everything is too clean. I’m left craving the messy, intimate details of their struggles with alcohol to make myself feel less alone. But they don’t owe me anything. I never expected a stranger in a supermarket to walk me through her darkest hours.
I recently attended a 20-year high school reunion where I learned that nine of my classmates have died since graduation, most of them from drug and alcohol abuse. A boy I played basketball with had a drug-induced heart attack in Mexico. A girl in my English class became addicted to ice.
Sobriety is a “life hack” in that it has the potential to keep you alive.
I shared my decision to quit drinking on social media. People liked my posts and sent me DMs about their experiences quitting alcohol and their desire to quit alcohol. There are countless communities of sober people online, but ultimately we sit alone.
I joined a local amateur choir. Because there’s only so much you can keep writing in your gratitude journal in your spare time. We meet weekly to practice choral arrangements of Crowded House songs. I need to listen carefully to the voices on both sides of me, find their voices, and align my voice with theirs.
It requires a delicate level of concentration, like threading a needle. If I’m louder or softer than the group, I’m doing something wrong. During the break, we drink tea and eat biscuits that someone brought from home. We talk about our days. It’s peaceful.
There’s an AA meeting near my house tonight, but I don’t think I’m qualified for it. I don’t think I was an alcoholic, but when I drank I often made very bad decisions that put my safety at risk.
For now, I’m grateful for the online sober community’s quotes, great editing skills, and weekly singalongs. I wrote down the details of the AA meeting, but the thought of attending makes me feel sore. I’m glad to know it exists.
