sobriety is a curious drug

for the first time in decades, existence had a new lens

I used to look at people who were sober with a confounding intrigue.

"but how?!"

"but why?!"

"what's the point!?"

I had come to the conclusion, they must hate themselves. Otherwise why choose to keep such a fun part of life at bay?

"That's it. They hate themselves." I could not fathom any other option(!). uh, what?

However, after waking up on the Summer Solstice of 2021, after a decades long engagement with being hungover, I decided quite abruptly I was done drinking. I both do and don't know how I came to that moment, however I stopped then and have never looked back. There are days now, every kind of somewhen, I find myself thinking:

"it might be nice..."

However I always follow it all the way through and I ask myself:

"What about this moment is bringing up that desire?"

"Do you want to celebrate something?"

"Do you want to give yourself a treatie?"

"Are you trying to distract yourself from something uncomfortable?"

"What exactly within, is calling for that?"

The internal lines of inquiry require presence in the moment and it's not an easy process; however, it has become the focus I now bring my confounding intrigue. I peer through the veneers of the moment and beckon whatever it is, face melting chaos or lollipop rewarding order. I attempt to discover the root and name it. I've discovered so many hidden away broom closets it can be dizzying at times.

°

A little over a month ago now I got accepted into a two year program I'm quite enthralled about. During the application process, since the nature of the program is psycho-somatic, they were explicit about discussing alcohol and drug habits, including prescriptions and other mental health related histories. They wanted to know your down-deeps and your relationship to these substances. They need clarity about who they are working with and also be able to create a truly safe container for people to discover, work, and heal in a group setting.

I have never been one to shy from the pages of my book. And since stopping alcohol, this has gotten much more apparent to me. I was nothing but crystal when it came to my past and current habits on the application.

So, twist in the story is when I quit alcohol - I didn't actually become "sober" though I definitely liked to think I was. Turns out, I relied heavily on cannabis to buffer the blows of stopping drinking. To be frank, I'm not certain I would have been as successful if I hadn't hunkered down with that sweet flower. I smoked. And I smoked a lot. I knew it was something I would have to reckon with eventually, but that day was not known. It wasn't brought to the surface for me until the day of the interview for the program.

As I stared at the computer screen into the eyes of these compassionate women, I could see them seeing me, bare and raw. They could really see me. They knew what I was in for if I got accepted and they wanted me to be successful. And when they asked, I proudly told them I stopped drinking 3 years ago. Then they asked about other drugs and I told them I smoked cannabis. When they asked me how often, I couldn't lie. I smoked everyday, maybe even more than once? They were incredibly understanding. I brought my whole self to the interview and it seemed to me, even as I was, they saw me. The real me.

*not that I need to explain myself, however it's important for me to convey I am an herbalist and I also am not on any prescription drugs. If I choose the western medical model, I know for sure I would have been prescribed some sort of psycho-active drug during the aforementioned time, and so to me, the cannabis was just that. My personal and chosen version of a prescription that buffered the blows of a life crashing down all around me. I am not ashamed at all of my cannabis use and I encourage others to explore the multitude of benefits that not only cannabis has but basically every plant has to offer us. It's all about proper relationship in the end.

Back to the story.

So, after admitting I smoked everyday I had one of those soul-truth moments. I had worn out my welcome at the roots of this plant. I was over-consuming and I could feel the tension from taking advantage of the kindness of cannabis. I could feel it in my bones. I took a pause. It was time to perhaps investigate how and why I was still using the way I was.

After the interview they told me I would find out about acceptance in October. It was August at the time and so I began being with myself and my process. Being gentle and trying to understand what I was actually doing and why.

From that point on I was more present with my use. I would pay close attention to when I reached for it. I would mind the moments when I said,

"okay let's go smoke".

It became increasingly obvious I was reaching during times of

1. intense uncomfortable emotions

2. when I felt bored

   and perhaps the most grievous;

3. when I was effectively self-sabotaging (see how I’m trying to still cushion this one using the word “effectively”? I see you seeing me, reader ;)

I never denied myself smoking during this time. Instead, I gave the practice and myself full attention. I followed the whole process root to toot. I'd say to myself:

"okay this is what is happening right now and this is how I feel as I reach for it"

"okay this is what it feels to smoke"

"okay this what is feels post smoke"

"okay this is the results"

Damn near every time I was trying to stuff an elephant into a mouse hole. And the outcome after everything was said and done was rage. Full bore, violent rage. So. Much. Rage. Towards myself and any perceived perpetrator. The rage got my attention to be sure.

The more I paid attention, the more the effects of cannabis shifted within my being. I started to feel this static energy all around me when I would smoke. It was disorienting and muting my magic. I found myself thinking and unthinking. Back and forth with no real course.

I thought.

I thought.

I thought.

I only had thoughts, because I wasn't feeling my feelings. The raft I was allowing myself in order to explore the deluge inside was now acting as a dam, holding me back. Holding me back in ways that were hurting me and hurting the people I love. Hurting who I was and hurting who I had not yet become. I'd been damed. And I was angry.

Come mid-October I began to experiment with not allowing myself to partake every time I wanted. I would go a day here and a day there. I was putting time and space in between me and my tokes. I was sitting with who I was when I didn't. Allowing that messy, angry, girl to spread out alongside me like red paint spilling on a freshly polished floor. Staring at the mess. Playing with the splashes. Making new shapes and pattens with the smears.

I started to see a new path.

Toward the end of October one of the interviewers emailed me and asked if we could meet one more time. She wanted to ask some follow up questions. During the meeting she said they thought I would be a great fit for the program, and also because of my history with substance abuse, they wanted me to refrain from cannabis for the full two years. Not something they asked of every participant. She said she wanted to give me some time to think it over. She was gracious in ways I’ve not yet known.

I know an older version of me would have responded internally with a:

"you can fuck the fuck right off"

However, my response in the moment was not even close to old Erin. To my delight I was not defensive about my wound and I felt no push back from myself internally. I felt eager and excited. I realized I wanted a reason. I needed a reason. Something outside of myself to help me break the dam so I could finally flow, living the life I am. I told her I would. I had already started the mental and emotional process of tracing my true self to my natural equilibrium.

That weekend I smoked knowing the time was coming to a close with cannabis, regardless if I got accepted or not. The signs had pointed in obvious ways toward that direction. Smoking that Saturday felt pretty awful. There was not any part of me really enjoying it. It was a worn out mode, meaningless and void of life. I felt like I was a gouged up mannequin, a battered mirage of who I know I am.

That Sunday I got the letter. I was accepted into the program and somehow, someway, the me of the somewhen future stepped up and into the driver seat of my being. Hand in hand with my old self, we decided we were done with cannabis for the time being. All while feeling immense gratitude for the time spent with cannabis and all the lessons I learned from her. That’s a post for another day. That sweetie plant offered to me a line of connection to something greater than myself in days of deep despair. She will always hold a place of honor at my table.

It's now been a little over a month. And I didn't even crave cannabis(!), I didn't have any desires for it. I have not "white-knuckled" it, as some people like to describe it. And I’ve had no issues physically other than a couple of headaches. Emotionally? I've cried more this month than I have in like 5 years, but every tear was cleansing and cathartic. Not tears of despair, they were tears of knowing. And my dreams are off the goddamn charts. Granted, November was a doozy-mc-doozerton sort of month and it’s all related.

What I know is I have been feeling my feelings all the way through to the end of their threads. Pulling that thread through the eye of a needle and lovingly sewing each into the tapestry of time that is me and my life.

I'm becoming the person I thought I hated. The person who "found sobriety" and is obsessed with it. And maybe I'm not so much obsessed with sobriety as much as I'm obsessed with life from this lens. Life, unclouded, unveiled, unencumbered by specks muddied with a version of existence 3 shakes left of center and 4 shimmies higher than the actual ground. I've never felt more stable in my existence and honestly, this is a drug all unto itself.

I'm the nerdy-nerd who finally understands what it means to be "high on life" and not that this perspective makes anything easier per se. It just makes it more enjoyable. More space, more presence to access and inhabit my full self. And like the concept of the paradox of knowledge: the more I know, the more clear it becomes how little I know. The more I experience, the more I am humbled by the shear complexity of it all. The more I see the easier it is to let go of thinking I (or anyone for that matter) have all the answers. There is a bliss to be found there in the most weightless burden I've ever been.