Sober Curious by Anna Miller
It’s an interesting dynamic; A chef who’s dating a bar manager, who's living in a house with another two bartenders, during a pandemic. I wonder how this will turn out.
Well, I’m sober now. And here’s the nitty gritty story of how and why I made that choice.
When the workday of a chef spans from mid morning to past midnight, little everyday tasks end up taking a backseat: like feeding yourself properly. Going straight home to cook for myself after a day of cooking for others is always a nonstarter. When I would, however, I usually made a bowl of cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats with halfmoon banana slices, duh), instant ramen noodles (Spicy NongShim is my ride or die), scrambled eggs and tortilla (throwback to when I lived in AZ), or hummus and everything bagel pretzel chips and a quesadilla. Pretty much anything that takes little to no effort to cook.
The majority of my close friends are in the restaurant industry. So of course I spent my off time supporting them (aka visiting them while simultaneously eating and drinking very well.) Don’t we all? So, if after a shift someone suggested going to get a bite to eat I was usually down for it. What places were open that late? Bars. Also The International House of Pancakes, but my friends didn’t hang out there (although, they really should, ‘cuz pancakes are life). And sure, I would skip dinner and just drink instead, occasionally.
The older I got the more this way of life affected me, and I wasn’t aware I had developed a problem until the first month of the pandemic. After getting laid off from a promising 14 year cooking career, I started to lose my grip.
The relationship I had built with alcohol during that time was unprecedented for me. Prior to the onset of the pandemic I could have one drink, or none and be fine. I would go days and weeks without, but I’d hands-down partake whenever it was appropriate. I guess I was more of a “weekend warrior” type of drinker.
Well right as rain, I had an excess of “weekend” time after getting canned, and spent it getting tanked. I would confidently say there was a 50/50 chance I was brown-out any given day that first month (and a half) of the pandemic. I wasn’t in control anymore.
I was reacting adversely to situations that didn’t ultimately matter; and I was waking up hungover and not remembering something I had said the previous day. I was having whiskey in my morning coffee. I was participating in face-time “shot-o’clock” with various groups of friends throughout the day, whenever someone deemed it time. I would go over to the house liquor shelf, unscrew an easy-open cap, and pour a mouthful of whatever down the hatch while passing by from time to time. The tipping point was inching closer day by day, and while this next part is hard to admit, it’s an important part of my journey; On more than one occasion, I threw up from drinking too much.
When I was clear headed enough to reflect on how I was operating, I knew I had to do something or I was going to ruin what was left of my life, which at that point didn’t equate to much due to the wreckage my behavior was producing.
There was only one path to choose for me to take my life back, and it headed to a place I had intentionally kept at arm's length. But despite the difficulties that were certain to come up along the way, I knew I still had to choose it. I had to choose to be vulnerable.
Going through life having lost my father in my formative years, being a survivor of domestic violence, being a survivor of workplace sexual assault, and being a women of leadership among a male dominated field has rendered me a strong person. I’d say I had manifested some solid skills to avoid being vulnerable after going through all of that. So intentionally putting myself in the path of vulnerability conjured up a fear that I had since left in the past. Deciding that sobering up was what I had to do was a super difficult pill to swallow. But I collected the courage for how I was about to handle this.
Ok, so, I had an intervention on myself. I laugh at this now, but at the time it was dire. Let me set the scene: I laid out my yoga mat, turned off all the lights and lit a few candles and placed them in the center with pillows on either end. I sat down on one side and started to pen a letter for help. I cried my way through it, folded the letter, composed myself and waited for my forever roommate to get home. And I did all this buzzed, if not flat out drunk.
When my partner got home and found my current habitat, his eyes darted around the room and asked if we were about to have a séance. His words lightened the mood perfectly, and with a chuckle I asked him to sit across from me. The letter I had just written was for him. So, through my strained and shaky I’ve-totally-been-crying voice, I read it to him. It described the kind of future I wanted to have with him, and asked for his help in achieving it.
My solution to help keep me sober was to initiate a half hour of yoga every evening. My goal wasn’t to get fit or lose weight. I didn’t want to overcommit to a brand new life with a brand new set of rules that, knowing me, would certainly result in getting burnt out and discouraged. I needed to build up some resilience, mentally and physically. I had the understanding that truly changing my mindset started with making the same little choices over and over again, until that didn’t feel like a choice anymore. I integrated.
I am one incredibly lucky girl to have such a supportive human by my side, who was receptive and agreed to participate in doing yoga with me. I was able to go all day without drinking knowing I had to be sober for our yoga session that evening. It gave me something tangible to look forward to everyday. In this way I was able to build back the resilience I had previously lost.
I am now confident in my abilities to safely uphold my personal moral compass on my own. I have since graduated to an hour of yoga everyday, and now eat a much healthier diet. That aspect happened by proxy; it is easy to gravitate more towards healthy foods when you have an ongoing exercise regime. I feel the benefits so acutely that I know I have completely taken back my life, and have manifested new habits that will actually serve me in a positive, long lasting way.
The association between drinking and mental health is no longer an unspoken taboo subject, and there is an ever-growing sober movement taking root that I see growing in tandem. Non-Alcoholic Cocktails are becoming more readily available on menus, kombucha and sparkling water are a whole entire alternative, Dry January and Sober September are a thing now. Sober clubs for people that are abstaining are taking the social pressures off, making it acceptable to say “I don’t drink” or “I’m not drinking right now.” Society as a whole is normalizing this rhetoric, and the peer pressure is steadily declining.
Lately, I have found that some of my peers have decided to take a break from drinking now too. Not by any advocacy on my part, and I certainly don’t take any credit for their decisions. However, I do think there’s something to be said that perhaps just knowing someone in your circle has gone sober, even temporarily, might help make your choice to be sober a more comfortable one.
I don’t know what my path in sobriety looks like yet, or how long I will choose to stay sober, but I know that for me it was the right decision at the right time. Coupled with exercise that I actually enjoy doing, my physical and mental health are more in tune with each other than ever before.
It may be cliché, but everyone is fighting a battle you cannot see. At one point or another you will encounter someone who is abstaining from alcohol, or focusing on improving their mental health. It is more important than ever to stand by those who are dealing with any kind of adversity, and make space for whatever they are facing. If you are curious about sobriety, remember there is power in numbers. If you have a buddy, or group of buddies during the time you plan on being sober, the better. Ask for someone to go sober with you. And if you’re on the receiving end of that question, consider what that person is really asking you. Help them. I advise anyone reading this to be kind, not only to others but to themselves as well. I hope my story will motivate you to take that scary step you may have been avoiding, or help someone else that may need your support.
