Recovery52 – Week 50 – One Year Sober

Recovery52 – Week 50 – One Year Sober

“Recovery is not simple abstinence. It’s about healing the brain, remembering how to feel, learning how to make good decisions, becoming the kind of person who can engage in healthy relationships, cultivating the willingness to accept help from others, daring to be honest, and opening up to doing.”

— Debra Jay

It is now just over one year into my current recovery effort. New Year’s Day 2023 has passed, and I moved through the holiday season with clear awareness and no hangovers, no memory loss, and no shame—the consequences that once defined my past drinking years. I recognized the familiar people, places, and situations that once triggered escape or celebration, and this year I stayed grounded in sobriety. Crowded spaces, heavy traffic, holiday consumption, noisy media, and polarized voices swirled around me, yet I remained centered.

Another difference this year was being fully present with loved ones and friends. I enjoyed Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve with a great friend. I spent Christmas Day and New Year’s Day alone, yet not lonely. I filled those days with creative work, healthy routines, and mindful awareness. I felt no urge to drink—not for escape and not for celebration.

For accuracy: Day 365 fell on January 1st. This project continues for a couple of extra weeks because, during that first week of 2023, I was still moving through withdrawal symptoms—acknowledging the problem but not yet committed to a clear plan. It took another week before this photography project took shape, alongside seeking professional counseling. My first blog post was published on January 20th, and I will not let that milestone pass unrecognized.

In past attempts at “sobriety,” I’ve had stretches longer than a year. But those were based only on abstinence—white-knuckling through without understanding the roots of my drinking. I made small adjustments but never did the deeper work of self-awareness. Abstinence without true change left me standing at relapse’s door over and over.

This time is different.

The weekly commitment of this project has been a powerful motivator. With 49 weeks behind me, I have written openly about my history, discoveries, and struggles. Putting thoughts on the page has strengthened both my thinking and my writing. Photography has brought creative joy, fueling my excitement and drive. I’ve built healthy routines—mindfulness, journaling, and exercise—that support sobriety. I’ve benefited from a skilled therapist and have learned to be more open and honest with loved ones and concerned friends.

I also understand the value of negative motivation in maintaining recovery. Sometimes I “play the tape,” asking myself if I ever want to return to my old drinking days—slowly killing myself, harming relationships, destroying trust, and living without meaning. Even remembering the physical pain of hangovers and withdrawal helps me stay grounded and grateful for the life I am building today.

I am committed to this recovery. I am proud of this photography project. In these final two weeks, I will reflect on the full arc of this journey and discuss how I plan to continue both my recovery and my creative work through photography and other media.

Recovery52 – Week 44 – Happy Thanksgiving!

“Fear is a question. What are you afraid of and why? Our fears are a treasure house of self-knowledge if we explore them.”

— Marilyn French

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”

— John F. Kennedy

This week’s post opens with two quotes that feel especially relevant to where I am in my recovery. Last week, I committed to beginning deeper work on the fears rooted in my early childhood. That commitment still stands. But with Thanksgiving arriving, it also feels important to pause and acknowledge gratitude—something woven into this holiday from childhood onward.

With Marilyn French’s words in mind, I want to begin addressing a few of the fears that were shaped by traumatic early experiences—what we now label “Adverse Childhood Experiences.” I’m not going to list everything, nor will I share the most painful details. I don’t want to trigger anyone who may be reading this while navigating their own recovery. But I will share a few foundational experiences, both to honor the truth of how I learned to fear, and to lay groundwork for the posts ahead:

·       My biological father abandoned our family before I turned one. He struggled with depression.

·       My first stepfather beat and burned me. I don’t remember it, but I’ve seen the photos. My amygdala was wired to High Alert before I had language.

·       My second stepfather committed acts I won’t detail here.

·       My third stepfather was a drunk and a wife-beater. I remember the screams, the fear, and my seven-year-old brother being thrown against a wall when he tried to intervene. The town cops—his drinking buddies—hauled him away to sober up.

·       A later partner of my mom’s was emotionally unhealthy and refused to divorce his legal wife, choosing to stay for financial reasons while living with us.

Damn, they were all sons of bitches. Just writing this stirs up anger. These experiences taught me to fear pain, to fear being hurt, and to fear expressing myself. I learned early that shutdown, avoidance, escape, and retreat were the safest options. As a child, I escaped into fantasy, science fiction, and imaginative play. As an adult, I escaped through alcohol and other numbing behaviors.

I’m working on this now—learning to recognize and confront the fears that still influence me. I’m not holding resentment, nor am I assigning blame. Forgiveness is not something those men deserve. Forgiveness is something I can offer myself for not healing sooner. I take responsibility for my behavior, my choices, and my recovery. I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m not making excuses. I own my future.

Turning to President Kennedy’s quote, I want to express my gratitude this Thanksgiving. I’m grateful for 325 days of sobriety, and for growing in ways I never reached in prior attempts. I’m grateful for a skilled therapist whose guidance helped me rebuild the foundation I stand on today. I’m grateful for family and friends whose concern, honesty, and sincerity have helped me become more open and trusting. And I’m grateful for learning to trust myself—finally feeling a sense of pride in my recovery.

I still have work ahead, but I’m confident in the skills, awareness, and mindset I’ve built. I’m grateful for my relationships, my health, my resources, and the moments of meaning and joy that fill my days.

I’ll return to exploring the past experiences that continue to influence my present. For now, I’m grateful. And I wish everyone a peaceful, meaningful holiday season.

Recovery52 – Week 36 – Recipe for Recovery

“A joyful life is an individual creation that cannot be copied from a recipe.”

— Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

This has been a good week, with no internal challenges to my sobriety. I’ve been consistent with healthy routines—daily planning and journaling, meditation, and regular workouts at the gym for both mental and physical well-being. I’ve enjoyed beginning each morning with coffee and time spent creatively editing photographs.

Today, I improvised a chicken–vegetable–rice soup, enjoying the quiet of the kitchen and the anticipation of a warm, comforting meal.

I’ve listened to audio streams about recovery, addiction, and science, and even found enjoyment in YouTube videos about the history of my favorite video game franchises. I have a couple of books in progress that help me unwind before sleep. Yes, I allow myself moments of escape—intentional, healthy escape.

Of course, not everything is easy. Loved ones are facing illness and loss. I try to offer support and encouragement where I can. I continue to feel concern about finances and the future, but I’m addressing these areas steadily. I know that if I weren’t sober, I couldn’t be of service to myself or to anyone else.

The quote above resonates deeply with me: my life is mine to create, not to force into a prefabricated mold. Over the years, I’ve explored other recovery paths—AA, SMART Recovery, Dharma Recovery—and studied psychology and addiction to understand my own patterns. But no single program provided the final “one-size-fits-all” answer. Instead, each offered something useful.

What works for me now is a combination of ideas, tools, and insight—supported by the most essential ingredient: my intrinsic motivation to live a meaningful and joyful life. This, more than anything else, fuels my recovery.

Recovery52 – Week 34 – Gratitude for Today

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”

— John F. Kennedy

Last week, I wrote that I must guard against the two thieves of my present moment: past regrets and future worries. Today became a living reminder of that truth.

Today, I walked a bridge—literally and metaphorically—moving from one shore to another, from yesterday into tomorrow, grounded in the present. Today.

Today, I climbed a mountain. Today, I sat beside a waterfall. Today, I moved through nature with awareness. Today, I traveled familiar roads and saw familiar places through fresh eyes. Today.

Today, I felt gratitude. Gratitude for nature’s beauty. Gratitude for my capacity to move, breathe, notice, and explore. Gratitude for the chance to strengthen body, mind, and spirit. Today.

Today, I felt grateful for my sobriety—grateful for my own determination, and grateful for every person in my circle who supports me. Today.

Today, I am sober. Today.

(For context: I hiked Saddle Mountain in Clatsop County, Oregon, and visited Fishhawk Falls. Much of the time on the trail was mindful and grounding. The drive was peaceful, with calming music. I ended the day with pizza—a small celebration of being fully alive and fully present.)

Recovery52 – Week 33 – Two Thieves

Past & Future

“Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves — regret for the past and fear of the future.”

— Fulton Oursler

With more than eight months in sobriety and thirty-three weeks into this photography project, I continue to find peace and clarity in daily life—peace and clarity I did not have when I was drinking, especially during periods of heavy use. After stumbling out of my last hard binge, carrying the painful memories of prior lapses, the knowledge of how I hurt others, and the growing realization that my life had lost meaning, I resolved to end that way of living.

With my own intention, and with the support of family, friends, and the wealth of resources available for people dealing with alcohol misuse, I’ve developed habits and routines that support ongoing growth. Caring for my body and mind, and strengthening my self-awareness, have become pillars of my recovery. When old thought patterns begin to surface, I can pause, recognize what’s happening, and choose how to respond to any urges that arise.

A major theme in my drinking history was anxiety—being caught between remorse and regret over the past and worry about the future. That split focus often led me toward avoidance and unhealthy coping. Today, my practice of mindfulness helps me catch myself when I drift into those old patterns. I can recognize when my mind begins to wander into what was or what might be, pulling me away from the present moment.

It’s useful, even necessary, to look backward for learning and to look forward for planning. But being consumed with regrets about a past that cannot be changed, or fears about a future that may never unfold, is both exhausting and damaging.

In service to myself and my sobriety, I must continue guarding against these two thieves of the present: past and future.

Recovery52 – Week 32 – Governing the Kingdom

“A little kingdom I possess, where thoughts and feelings dwell; And very hard the task I find of governing it well.”

— Louisa May Alcott

As I enter another week of recovery, I’m reminded how much of this journey is about managing my inner world—my thoughts, feelings, and reactions. This week brought several events that stirred strong emotions and challenged my sense of balance.

Here are the stressors that shaped my week:

⦁ I came down with shingles the same weekend I received the shingles vaccine.

• My son’s wedding celebration was planned, and I was excited to be part of it.

• Loved ones are dealing with serious personal health issues, and I had committed to being available for caregiving, but was unable to.

• I was recently diagnosed as pre-diabetic, and the tinnitus I’ve been dealing with will not be medically evaluated until January.

I realize my stack of issues is small compared to the hardships others face—friends, family, and many people I read about in recovery communities. In truth, my life right now is pretty damn good. I’m grateful for where I am, what I have, and the growth I’m experiencing.

Still, the emotional mix this week felt worth sharing. Shingles brought pain and sleep disruption. The virus’s contagiousness forced me to consider risks and make difficult choices—I ended up missing my son’s wedding ceremony to protect others. I also stepped back from caregiving commitments. Missing workouts and hikes left me feeling physically disconnected from the routines that help keep me centered.

During this self-imposed isolation, I became more aware of the tinnitus, reflected on my diet, evaluated my financial picture, and thought more deeply about long-term goals and plans. My feelings shifted over the week: fear, sadness, regret, uncertainty, and even a shade of depression I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I also noticed subtle moments of relapse risk—those flickers of dangerous thinking. When I felt low, I imagined going out alone into nature, but thought it best not to drive by any beckoning trigger locations. I recognized the familiar self-doubt and remembered past relapses sparked by a single “eff it” moment. I even imagined the risk at the wedding celebration, knowing how easy it would have been to chase positive emotions with “just a glass or two.”

Those memories are vivid and still guide me now. They remind me that I cannot safely handle “just one.”

This week, I watched my thoughts and feelings with awareness. I let them rise and pass without surrendering to them. Old defense mechanisms—denial, numbing, avoidance—had no place here. I stayed present, mindful, and sober.

Recovery52 – Week 08 – My Healthy Grounding Habits

“Healthy habits harbor happiness.” — Zero Dean

Last week, I wrote about mindfulness and responding to irritations before they gather into something heavier. This week, I’m turning back to the habits that keep me grounded — my recovery “toolbox.” These aren’t abstract ideas. They’re day-to-day, tangible practices that shape my stability.

• Connection: I may be introverted, but I’ve learned that isolation is dangerous for me. A phone call with a friend, a shared laugh, even a quick text exchange can shift my entire emotional landscape. When I stay connected, I feel supported and human; when I withdraw, I start to drift.

• Daily planning: Each morning, I write out what matters. At the top of the list is always “Sobriety / Well-Being.” Seeing it first centers me. It’s a reminder that everything else rests on this foundation. Checking that box at night feels like acknowledging that I cared for myself that day.

• Journaling: My journal is where I untangle my thoughts. I write about how I slept, what I'm worried about, what I’m proud of, and what’s weighing on me. When I put the words on the page, the noise in my head settles. Morning entries set the tone; evening entries help me close the day cleanly.

• Acts of creation: Photography, cooking, puzzling — these aren’t just hobbies. They’re ways of coming back to myself. When I edit a photo, finish a meal, or lock in the last few puzzle pieces, I feel grounded. These small creations give me a sense of accomplishment and forward motion.

• Morning coffee & creativity: Most days begin with coffee and photo editing. Quiet mornings and creative focus help wake me up from the inside. It’s a gentle way of stepping into the day, not forcing it.

• Exercise: Drawing from my personal-training background, I build simple routines with basic equipment. Push, pull, squat, move. Even twenty or thirty minutes changes how I feel. It reminds me that I have a body worth taking care of — and that movement softens the edges of anxiety.

• Time in nature: Trails, forests, ocean air — being outdoors resets me. Whether it’s a long hike or a slow walk beneath the trees, nature gives me space to breathe and feel small in a good way. It feels spiritual in a way that’s hard to explain.

• Reading & edutainment: Books and thoughtful content have replaced the doom-scroll. Fiction lets me step out of my world for a moment; nonfiction feeds my curiosity. Podcasts and lectures keep me learning without overwhelming me. These choices help me wind down without losing myself.

I know from experience what happens when these habits start slipping. I become unsteady, anxious, disconnected — more vulnerable to old patterns. These aren’t boxes to check; they’re supports I lean on. Life will interrupt them now and then, and that’s okay. The power is in choosing them again when I can.

Recovery52 – Week 05 – Serious Recovery ... This Time!

“My recovery must come first so that everything I love in life doesn’t have to come last.” — Anonymous

At the end of last week, I thought I might write about the routines that keep me grounded, but as this week unfolded, my reflections returned to something deeper: the seriousness of my commitment to recovery and why it matters.

This is not my first attempt at recovery from alcohol misuse — but I want this one to be lasting. I often turned to alcohol as a numbing agent when facing pain and anxiety, or as a celebratory indulgence when chasing excitement. Sometimes both urges collided — running from pain while chasing pleasure. The result was always the same: temporary escape, deeper regret, and greater loss.

The pain I tried to bury never went away. The pleasures I chased were illusions, and in pursuing them, I hurt the relationships that mattered most. Broken trust became the echo of every relapse.

Now I want to go deeper in understanding my lapses. I know there is early childhood trauma. My lifelong patterns of avoidance, dishonesty, and self-protection have roots there — shaped by fear of rejection and fear of commitment. I wrestle with depression and wonder whether other mental health factors may also play a role. Am I ready for this deep dive? I believe so. I’m committed to counseling with a therapist I trust, and this phase of recovery — addressing root causes — will show up in future posts.

My commitment to abstinence is serious. I’m intentional about protecting my recovery by keeping distance from situations or people that could endanger it. My days begin with intention and end with reflection: the first line in my planner reads, “Sobriety / Well-Being,” and I close each journal entry with, “A safe and sober day.” Between those two lines lies the practice of mindful living — creative pursuits, structured routines, and deliberate self-care.

This isn’t selfishness — it’s self-preservation. Recovery grows when self-care becomes daily practice.