My sober reality:

I have come to accept the reality of my own limitations: mental, physical, geographical and financial. I don’t fall prey to drunken, delusional thoughts of doing or being something that I can’t be or do. In many ways this is calming. I can focus my attention on my true capabilities and capacities and then make the most efficient use of them.

It is frustrating in that I wish I was capable of doing more at a higher level. However, my mental clarity of limitations doesn’t mean that I don’t aspire to these higher levels. I now devise better plans and undertake calculated risks. By dreaming, planning, studying and taking on calculated risks I have been able to accomplish and experience things that were at one time only drunken dreams. I do more now than I have ever done (or had been able to do), when I was drinking.

This means that I make choices, and with each of those choices comes consequences. Some consequences have direct causality to the choices I make, while other consequences are not directly caused by the choices but are correlated and related none the less. Allow me to explain with a few examples:

I am limited – by my own choice – as to what types of social entertainment I want to engage in. I deliberately avoid the bar scene, drinking parties or social events where drinking will be the focal activity. I’m not worried that I’ll “crack,” I just don’t enjoy being around drunks, and after I’ve left an event where drinking was the focus I feel that I’ve wasted valuable time.

I am single but I don’t go to bars or clubs. This results in limited exposure to meeting new people, but that’s okay because most people in bars and clubs use drinking as their form of entertainment. Why would I want to be in a relationship with a drinker? So I choose to not go to public places where drinking is the focus of entertainment.

I don’t attend a church or religious gatherings. I feel it would be disingenuous of me to try to meet someone at their place of worship when I don’t have a similar interest. I occasionally accept invitations to social events at religious institutions. My friends say, “Oh this is a sober event and you can meet a lot of really nice people.” They typically are nice events with nice people in attendance, but their purpose and their common interest is their particular faith.

I don’t attend AA meetings. I am not comfortable at meetings because I am not in full agreement with the steps. I am very outspoken and it would be disrespectful towards those who are in agreement with the steps for me to disrupt a meeting with my opinions. I don’t care for the religious undertones of meetings and I’m not all that fond of the atmosphere. So I don’t attend. I also feel it would be disingenuous (and perverse), for me to attend meetings with the explicit goal of meeting a sober mate. (The term: 13’th stepping ring a bell?)

So this means that I must go other places if I want to engage with people in a social setting. I do this by being active at a health club. I go hang out at bookstores. I attend art and creative shows. I must take it upon myself to be outgoing and introduce myself to other people. Is this scary? Absolutely! I run the risk of rejection. (That’s why people pound down a little “liquid courage,” so if they are rejected by someone they approach it can easily be forgotten with a few more drinks.) When I meet people at these types of places they have no idea that I am a non-drinker and we can discover if there is mutual interest based on the merits of our personalities.

I also choose to not date or get romantically involved with someone who drinks. This limits my odds of meeting a mate, but I don’t want that complication as part of my life. I also choose to not hang out with (or spend a lot of time with), former drinking friends. This means that my circle of close friends has shrunk since I quit drinking, but these weren’t really close friends in the first place - just drinking acquaintances. As a consequence, my existing friendships have grown stronger and more rewarding. I still make new friendships and acquaintances, but they aren’t based around drinking.

My topics of interest have changed and I am drawn to read more books and expand my knowledge in a wider variety of subjects. My interest in hobbies have changed and expanded as well. I have learned that I must simply try new things to discover whether I like them or not. I don’t like, nor am I proficient at everything I try, but I won’t know until I try.

Through all these changes and the acceptance of all these realities I still encounter brief moments when I feel a desire to drink. And those moments when I desire to drink – but must exhibit self-control – makes me say, “Living sober sucks.” But my life doesn’t suck.