As you may or may not know, I’ve been sober since March 25th, 2017. Like, sober sober. No I do not smoke weed. No I do not microdose or do acid, nor do I recommend these things for spiritual reasons. Yes, I did eat some mushrooms last summer and perhaps that “disqualifies” me from the March 25th sobriety date in some people’s minds. If anything, that experience taught me that I am still not into mind-altering substances. I apologize if all this comes across as self-congratulatory; it really isn’t meant to be. I take no personal credit for my sobriety (or for anything), and do not feel it’s something to be proud of. My truth here is that drugs feel unnecessary, and I am very happy that I was moved to set them aside.
Drugs can provide us with interesting experiences and expose us to other relative realities. They may give us a broader lens through which to view the traumas we have endured, and if one finds a psychedelic experience to be deeply healing, I take no issue with this.
However, seeking Truth is another matter altogether. I have done the drugs and can say that these experiences do not come close to Realization. If we feel we are on the path, the best way to keep our minds is in a state of clarity, and the best way to keep our bodies is in a state of good health. If you spontaneously wake up and have been abusing your body for 10 years, that much more damage will need to be repaired. It is not fun, and it is avoidable.
I know that “sobriety for higher consciousness” isn’t a popular view to hold, but it is a true one. Drugs are for those seeking experiences. Truth is for those who are done seeking experiences and wish to come home to themselves. If we feel we need a biannual drug trip to “reset,” there is something we have missed.
Before March 25th, 2017, I was a drinker.
I started drinking heavily when I was about 18, finding it a very effective way to a) socialize, b) deaden my extremely overactive mind, and c) sneakily release aspects of my “shadow,” or, that suppressed part of me I regularly tried to deny. The shadow is the one with unhealthy preoccupations and deep negativity. It is revealed in all the “bad” things we do when we’re drunk that we wouldn’t otherwise do. We all have this “shadow,” and until we shine a light on it, it will escape somehow.
I loved drinking, and it is not an exaggeration to say that in my early 20s I blacked out at least once a month, sometimes once a week. That person I thought I was felt that it was “fun.” I was not ready to examine what was so fun about becoming less conscious, less present for the life I was living. Being that alcohol is an addictive drug (please never forget this, btw), I was pretty dependent on it in order to even be in large groups by the time I was 25.
The normal progression of abuse ensued. I won’t get into such details here, because they are literally the same for every single person who has stumbled down the road of addiction. It started out like “NBD this is totally normal,” but within a few years I found myself walking through Whole Foods with a terrible hangover as I confessed to my partner, “I definitely have a drinking problem.”
By the time I was 26, I was doing the thing where I semi-regularly took online quizzes with fun titles such as “Are You an Alcoholic?” I always hoped the answer would come out differently than I knew it would. I bargained a lot, fudging the answers: Do I have more or less than five drinks per week? Who counts?
Seriously, who counts drinks? If you are drinking straight out of a bottle of wine or drinking beers all day, as I surely did, this whole “measurement” thing is truly laughable. Also, if you are taking these kinds of quizzes and asking yourself these kinds of questions, the answer is “you’d do best to stop drinking, yo.”
After many attempts to quit, I finally did at age 29, and I did it without going to AA meetings.
I am going to say straight away that this was made possible largely due to an undeniable spiritual realization. If you’re trying to quit drinking, I do not recommend waiting around for a click of light. Please, do whatever works for you. If you are reading this and find AA beneficial to you, that is beautiful. But I want to share why it is that AA was never appealing to me, if only to offer a different perspective that may resonate with someone someday:
- AA reinforces the false dichotomy of “alcoholic” vs. “normie.” What is going on here? Alcohol is an addictive neurotoxin that our culture just happens to approve of. We are conditioned to believe that it is “normal” to “be able” to regularly ingest this drug. This is a ridiculous piece of conditioning I would like to see fall away entirely. I do not believe alcohol really has any place within a healthy society, again, because it is a poisonous drug that kills a whole lot of people in many different ways.
- AA encourages us to view ourselves as “moral failures.” I have written about this before in a much more long-winded post. Talk about a vicious cycle: Do you know why people want to deaden their pain with drugs and alcohol and/or kill themselves? Because they sincerely believe they are moral failures and the world is better off without them. The connection between “moral failing” and addiction needs to be broken. We already know we are fucking our lives up and hurting people we love, and we feel terrible about it. I had no desire to go crawling to an organization (in a church, no less!) to rub my nose in this more and more and more.
- AA encourages us to keep energizing the story that “we have a problem.” It asks that we to keep on identifying with a false story. Being that the ego-identity itself is ultimately false, all of our personal stories are also ultimately false. I am aware that this is a quantum leap in spiritual understanding, and to get to the point where we are ready to let go of our cherished stories is no quick task. But it surely does not help to keep telling them over and over again, always upholding the identity of “addict.” There is a time and place for processing trauma, but if we want to be free, we have to drop these stories someday. AA does not encourage us to let go of this story.No one is an alcoholic. No one is a “normie.” These are all surface-level stories. No one is an individual entity at all.
I could keep going, but I’m just going to include another link to Hip Sobriety, because this kind of talk is their whole purview. The founder of the company, Holly Whitaker, has written many blog posts about these things. She wants to live in a culture where addiction is viewed in its appropriate context, and so do I.
Ultimately, though, I think we both want to live in a culture where addiction is a non-issue, one wherein we actually take care of each other and cease our unconscious cycles of trauma. This can only come about by way of radical transformation made possible by realization of the Self.