Today marks five full years of sobriety.

Five full years since I had a sip of alcohol. Oddly, I find myself not wanting to engage with it very much. I’ve so thoroughly changed my identity to that of someone who doesn’t drink, and on a daily basis I don’t think about my sobriety very much. So with this anniversary coming up, over the last couple of weeks I’ve been much more aware of it and thinking about it. Thinking about everything that comes with sobriety – the gratitude I feel for a second chance, and the shame of reliving some of my worst moments. 

Everyone in recovery knows about shame. I haven’t met another addict yet who doesn’t have some of it. We all know what it feels like to hit rock bottom and have to choose: do I stay here, or do I choose to live. I feel fortunate that my version of rock bottom didn’t end with me hurting someone, or causing irreparable damage. In fact, from the outside looking in I had it all together. A great career, the fancy car, an engaging social life. But inside I was barely hanging on, and coping by pouring ever-larger amounts of alcohol into that hole inside myself. Two things happened in early 2021 that changed the course of my life forever. 

First, I learned what a loaded gun tastes like. Around the same time, I was seriously struggling with depression and suicidal ideation. I also owned and carried firearms at the time, which is not a good combination. Knowing that seven pounds of pressure on a trigger is all that stands between you and the void is a deeply intense moment to have. 

Second, I met the amazing woman who I’m now proud to call my wife. When we first met (on Hinge, like every good Millennial couple does), I was still drinking. I was quickly forced to confront the fact that I could never participate meaningfully in a relationship in my current state. I knew something had to change, or I could never present the best version of myself and be a good partner. 

March 13, 2021 should have been a great day

I was on a golf trip with some buddies, enjoying the Florida sun as an escape from the cold Northeast winter. In reality, I was at the end of a two week bender fueled by alcohol and cocaine. I spent the entire round alternating between trying to hydrate with gatorade to fight the awful hangover, and then violently vomiting up said gatorade. I’d spent the night before getting blackout drunk at dinner and then doing lines by myself in a hotel room in Tampa with coke I bought from a waitress at a steak house. This is a grim scene to relive, even now. My ADHD brain has always pushed me to be good at things, whether that was partying or playing golf. The middle of the pack has never satisfied me. 

Sitting in the Tampa airport that night waiting for my flight home, I FaceTimed that same amazing woman and told her I was so hungover, I wanted to see if I could make it 30 days without drinking. At the time, I seriously doubted it was possible. I’d been functioning with 80-100 drinks a week for months. Yet she was nothing but supportive, the same way she is today. The first few days were rough. Not sleeping, shaking, sweating. But somehow, I stuck with it. I read Alcohol Explained by William Porter and learned what the chemical alcohol does to various processes in our body. I tried to exercise. I bought a book of crossword puzzles. I truly didn’t know what a 26 year old who didn’t drink would do to pass the time.

About two weeks in, I knew I was never going back. Learning for the first time in almost a decade how good a body free of daily poisoning could feel was an epic experience. Now, I tell people that what finally worked for me was to fundamentally change my identity. Instead of “I’m taking a break” it became “I don’t drink.” Simply put, I don’t drink. I’m not a person who drinks alcohol, as if I’m allergic to it. Little did I know that wasn’t even going to be the hard part. 

Quitting drinking was easy compared to learning how to deal with myself without alcohol

That pain and trauma and mental anguish doesn’t go away once the drinking stops. We wouldn’t use drugs and alcohol to numb our suffering if they didn’t work. They are incredibly effective at allowing us to pretend everything is okay. But that’s all it is – pretend. My wife was the first person I ever met who made it feel safe to go to therapy. In 26 years of life up to that point, I had never known someone who did it, or talked about it, or made it seem okay – especially for a seemingly successful white man. I very nearly didn’t make it to the first appointment. I was petrified of what I might say or learn about myself. But I went, and I was okay, and it started a journey that truly gave me a second chance at life. 

My daily lived experience is so much more fun and light than it ever was when I was drinking. As a drinker, every day had the same basic cadence: wake up hungover, muddle through the day, start drinking again. Rinse and repeat in different settings. Now, I wake up knowing that whatever the day brings, I’ll at least be able to handle it with a clear mind. There’s something incredibly freeing about that. 

If you’ve made it this far, I appreciate you reading about my story. I’d like to end with this.

The secret to all of this – getting and staying sober, getting in shape, learning to love and forgive yourself – is doing it one day at a time

There were times in the beginning when it was hour by hour for me. But once you learn that you have zero ability to change yesterday and zero ability to change tomorrow, that is how you accomplish big things. Small amounts of hard work and consistent effort over long periods of time. 

Writing all of this, I feel incredibly proud of myself. There are many versions of me that would laugh in your face if you told them I could stay sober for five years. It would be simply unbelievable. But you can’t do anything for years at a time – you do a day. Then a second day. Then a third day. And those days stack and stack until you have a meaningful pile of days. I didn’t drink today, and that’s enough. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and do everything in my power to accomplish that same goal. I’ll acknowledge my milestone but also know it’s just another day in a stack of days. 

If you’re out there struggling, know that you’re not alone. Know that another way is possible. If I can do it, you can do it. I’ll never tell you it’s easy – but I will show you it’s possible. 

Keep working hard. 

– John Young