Answer Addiction

Tag: early sobriety

  • Ryan Adams Celebrates Sober Milestone

    Ryan Adams Celebrates Sober Milestone

    Rocker Ryan Adams took to Twitter to announce that he’s been sober for two months.

    Singer Ryan Adams, who was once married to actress Mandy Moore, celebrated 60 days sober on December 27. In a tweet, he expressed his appreciation for his situation.

    “2018: you brought me to my knees,” he wrote on his Twitter post. “It turns out that’s where I needed to be: in prayer for everyone here or lost. In these trying times, God bless everyone struggling or on the path to empathy, kindness and recovery.”

    Adams also attached a photo showing off his 60-day sobriety token.

    He topped off his post with well wishes: “Keep the Faith. & may the Faith keep you.  XO.”

    The good news comes a few months after some Twitter drama with Moore. The actress tweeted that she married the wrong person when she married Adams in 2009, staying with him for six years before divorcing in 2015. Things got ugly when Adams replied.

    “She didn’t like the Melvins or BladeRunner. Doomed from the start … If only I could remember the start lol,” Adams wrote in a tweet on October 10th.

    A few days later, Adams woke up to the fact that participating in the drama wasn’t cool and issued a public apology.

    “I apologize for my remarks. I was trying to be funny. But I have and will always choose to remember the amazing moments. It isn’t classy or ok lessen what was,” he wrote apologetically. “I am happy for everyone and doing my best.”

    Later, on Thanksgiving, the tone of Adams’ tweets were more supportive, full of words of encouragements for those who may be going through the same thing he was.

    “Today I am thankful for my sobriety, my friends & for the program & all the Jedi passing along wisdom,” he wrote. “I know people are struggling & alone on the holidays. But you are NOT ALONE. Everyday is a new opportunity to grow, to reach for the light. Keep the faith. You are loved. XO.”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • Kelly Osbourne Says Her First Year Of Sobriety Was Really Difficult

    Kelly Osbourne Says Her First Year Of Sobriety Was Really Difficult

    Building up a sober community has been instrumental for Kelly Osbourne’s success in her first year of sobriety.

    The Osbourne family is known for telling it like it is, with colorful language to boot, so it’s no surprise that Kelly Osbourne is being candid about the difficulties of staying sober as she speaks about her one-year sobriety anniversary. 

    “It feels amazing, but the first year is really hard for everyone,” Osbourne told In Touch. “People have this whole notion that you can be fixed and I am not fixed. I am now just beginning to start to know who I really am and I am not even close. Life is really scary but I get to do things for the first time all over again, which is great and just really figure out who I am and what I am but it’s tough. That first year is really f—ing tough.”

    Osbourne, 34, has been in and out of treatment since she was a teenager. This time, she says, the benefits of sobriety have clicked for her. 

    “I am not hungover and like a lot of my friends aren’t sober and when we do stuff, I am always the first one up, the first one out the door, you know,” she said. “I am excited about life in a whole new way.”

    She said that her family—including mom Sharon, dad Ozzy and brother Jack—all supported her in their own ways. 

    “They have just been amazing,” she said. “My brother has been the one, more than anything because he truly gets it. My mom is a normie… she is there for me as much as she can be. She will always manage to say that one thing that you’re like oh, why the f—k did you say that! But she is only trying to help because she cares so much. Without the support of my family this year, I don’t think I could have gotten through it. They have been there for me like crazy when I know that they should have given up on me by now, but they didn’t.”

    Osbourne said that she is learning to cope with her feelings—which she said she “f—ing hates”—because in the past she’s been “numb the whole time.”

    She said that building up a sober community has been instrumental for her success in sobriety. She’s learned to keep her focus on her sobriety. 

    “Listen to what people are telling you to do, talk to people, don’t keep stuff in and just take it each day as it comes,” she said. “And if you fall, just dust yourself off and try again.”

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • King of the Bums

    King of the Bums

    If you’re an addict like I am, then maybe you have these issues with self-esteem, fear, an enormous desire to be liked, an ego the size of Texas and hatred of anyone or anything you feel inferior to.

    I didn’t stroll into recovery willingly. The first time I ever got sober was definitely not by choice. It was a requirement lovingly handed down to me by the wonderful Florida Department of Corrections. They told me to get sober, piss clean once a week, and attend meetings or go to prison. I never wanted to stop using the first time. I just didn’t want to end up in jail. Sure, I had managed to destroy my life and ruin any meaningful relationship I ever had, but that wasn’t enough motivation to stop me from getting high. The fear of going up-the-road terrified me. The fear of walking into a state penitentiary and walking out a gang member with a face tattoo scared the living hell out of me.

    Growing up, everyone always told me that I was a chameleon. I have the ability to effortlessly blend into any situation no matter the surroundings; it’s in the way I walk, the way I talk, reading someone’s body language and matching it with my own little nuances to make them feel comfortable, picking up on choice words in an individual’s vocabulary and using it myself. Whatever the scene is, I have the script. Needless to say, improvising comes easy for me. It’s no wonder that I became a musician and started performing regularly. The stage and the spotlight are my warm blanket.

    The ability to improvise on the fly and blend in with any situation comes very handy when someone is trying to get high. When it comes to interacting with shady people on the streets and within your local dope-hole, the art of blending in and belonging is vital, not to mention the gift of gab. You got to get in, get it for the right price, and get out.

    The problem is that this particular skill set can become a huge detriment when getting sober. The ability to acclimate to any surrounding can kill you if you’re in a setting that demands complete transparency. If you’re living in a halfway house with about a dozen different personalities, being able to get along is a big deal. Convincing the house manager that you’re making the right choices and not getting high is important. You need to be trusted, you need to blend in, and most important, you need to stay off everyone’s radar. You don’t need a random piss test to ruin the party now do you?

    So here’s where the even bigger problem lies. If you’re an addict/alcoholic like I am, then maybe you have these deep core issues with self-esteem, personal acceptance, a huge amount of fear, thoughts of loneliness, an enormous desire to be liked, an ego the size of Texas and hatred towards anyone or anything you feel inferior to. I’ve heard it put this way and I’m sure you have too: We’re ego-maniacs with an inferiority complex.

    Sounds like we have a little boy/girl deep within us that needs to grow up, doesn’t it? And when we stop putting mood- or mind-altering substances into our body, we’re put on a collision course with that inner child. This child is trapped inside of a full-grown adult trying to figure out how to stay sober because, let’s face it, arrested development is a real thing. The moment we started self-medicating was the moment we stopped growing up.

    When I got to my first residential inpatient treatment center, I was placed smack-dab in the middle of this enormous community of junkies. Some trying to get sober, others trying to avoid jail-time, and others there simply because they had no place to call home. The little boy inside me was terrified. Will I fit in? Is anyone going to like me? Will I be able to stay and graduate in six months?

    Immediately I did what I’ve been doing my whole life: I blended in. I got with the “winners” because that’s what was recommended and I started acting like them. I got into recovery because they were all about recovery. I was familiar with the recovery-lingo already so that wasn’t an issue. I attended groups, I went to meetings, and wouldn’t you know it, I started walking like them and talking just like them. I kept my secrets to myself, I did everything in my power to impress the powers-that-be and I made sure that everyone knew how talented I was. Luckily for me, they had a band there. And guess what? They needed a piano player. This is going to work out just fine. I’ll just join the band, avoid getting into trouble and skate my way to graduation.

    I’ve heard people say in recovery that sometimes you’ve got to fake it until you make it. They say that with the hopes that somewhere along the way, all that faking slowly turns in a real desire to be different. But if you’re used to lying all the time and wearing masks just to be accepted, if you’re used to being that chameleon and reading from a script, all that faking never really turns into anything legit and fruitful for your recovery. You kind of just set yourself up for failure. And that’s exactly what I did.

    I graduated the program, but I enjoyed my time there so much that I decided to stay for another six months. I did that until the treatment center hired me. Can you believe that? They hired me! What a joke.

    I wasn’t ready. I didn’t do the work required to stay sober. I was just “that guy.” “Star Boy” is what my friends called me there. I remember my roommate calling me “The Chosen One.” This is bad. But I got exactly what I wanted, so why the heck am I so miserable? Maybe because I never worked on growing up. I never confronted my inner child and dealt with the real core issues of my addiction. Getting sober is easy. Sobriety in general is simple. It’s the emotional sobriety and uncovering the layers of who I am and learning to love myself that’s paramount. I robbed myself of that journey. I took myself out of the game by choosing to be the coolest guy in rehab.

    Here’s the thing about this treatment center. This isn’t the one you find nestled on the beach with your peer-led-groups, full-body massages, custom fruit smoothies, etc. This is the rehab you go to when you’ve exhausted all other resources. The one you end up in when you can no longer afford the nice treatment centers you see advertised on this site. This is the last house on the left; the one that doesn’t cost a dime. The homeless rehab in the same neighborhood you’ve been getting high in.

    Congratulations, you’re the coolest kid in homeless rehab. Everyone bow down to the king of the bums. You made it.

    It’s no surprise that the day I moved out of the place is the day I got high. I didn’t see it coming… but I saw it coming. You know what I mean.

    It wasn’t long before I found myself knocking on the doors of the same facility to let me back in. I had nowhere else to go and heroin yet again had beaten me to a pulp. I remember getting out of detox and walking up the sidewalk. This guy that works there stopped me while I was walking in and asked me what I was going to do different. It was a rhetorical question because he didn’t wait for my answer. What came next was the single most important piece of advice I ever received. He didn’t say anything I hadn’t heard before but it was the first time I truly heard it and received it. I had beaten myself emotionally with this last relapse so badly that I truly believe my ears finally opened up. I was ready to listen and do something different.

    He told me to forget about who I was. Forget about everything I think I know because I know nothing. All I know how to do is get high. He told me that I don’t know how to get sober. He told me to shut the hell up and listen. He said I had to do this for me and nobody else. He told me that I’m not here to impress anyone or make friends. He reminded me that I suffer from a disease that wants me dead. He told me that I didn’t come to an indigent rehab to play music; I came there to get sober.

    I love him for that. I aspire to be like him one day. I admire him. His tongue is sharp and his recovery is sharper. His words haunt me every day. They keep me in check while I learn how to deal with the little boy deep within my soul.

    Slowly but surely, the masks are coming off. This uncomfortable yet beautiful journey of self-discovery is full of rewards. Today I choose to stay sober and enjoy them as they come my way; never throwing in the towel on the days I don’t hit the mark.

    If nobody told you today that they love you, fuck it, there’s always tomorrow.

    View the original article at thefix.com

  • 5 Things I Wish I Knew When I Hit Rock Bottom

    5 Things I Wish I Knew When I Hit Rock Bottom

    When you’re at your lowest point, it’s easy to feel like there is no hope, like you are completely alone, like your life will never be full again.

    Rock bottom is such a common term in the world of recovery. And while everyone has a rock bottom, no one has the same one. When you’re at your lowest point, it’s easy to feel like there is no hope, like you are completely alone, like your life will never be full again. I certainly felt all those things and more a little over five years ago when I hit my bottom.

    But they say hindsight is 20/20, and in looking back, there are a few things I wish I had been able to reach out and grasp from my bottom. In hopes that they might help someone else, here they are:

    1. There Is Always a Light at the End of the Tunnel

    When I think back to the first few days and weeks following my rock bottom, I remember an all-encompassing feeling of utter hopelessness. I felt there was literally no way life would ever get better, that things would only get worse as time went on. I didn’t think there was any way out of the hole I had found myself in. I was really, truly incapable of envisioning a life in which I was happy without alcohol. I know I’m not alone in those feelings. Those emotions and struggles are true of many people when they hit their lowest of lows. It is called rock bottom for a reason — that reason being that you cannot go any lower. The only direction to go is up. But in the midst of it all, it’s so hard to see that. At rock bottom, I wish I had been able to reach out and grasp that little bit of hope that everything would be OK, rather than fixating on how my life was falling apart at the seams. Seeing that light at the end of the tunnel is something that would have been helpful. But what matters is that the light eventually made its way to me, and when it did, I kept walking toward it. Some days, I still am.

    2. Even in Your Loneliest Moments, You Are Not Alone

    In addition to feeling utterly hopeless early on, I also felt completely, wholly alone — more alone than I have ever felt in my life. I couldn’t imagine that anyone in the world was going through what I was going through. And maybe that’s true, to an extent. But it’s also true that there were people going through similar things; I just hadn’t crossed paths with them yet. I also felt alone in the sense that I was scared to talk to the people closest to me about what I was feeling and thinking. Instead, I kept it all bottled inside, isolating myself even more. It was only when I began to let my guard down that I realized I had had people beside me all along. I had never been alone, I had just convinced myself that was the case.

    3. The People Who Matter Will Remain by Your Side

    As my life was falling apart five and a half years ago, one of my main concerns was what would happen to my relationships. I was so scared of losing the people who I thought were important to me. And the truth is that not all of my relationships would survive the coming weeks and months. There were some friends who I came to find were really just drinking buddies. Those were the ones who slowly faded away. But at my lowest point, the people who really cared about me as a person came forward and made it known. So many of my relationships became stronger in the months following my rock bottom, to the point that I barely noticed the relationships that hadn’t pulled through. When everything is changing without your permission, it’s easy to feel as if it’s for the worst. But just remember that’s not always the case.

    4. People Won’t Judge You as Harshly as You Think They Will

    This was one of my biggest fears at my rock bottom and is what kept me from moving forward in my recovery for some time. I was so terrified that when people found out what had happened in my life, they would pass judgement and jump to conclusions. I was afraid that they would look at me differently or tell me I was overreacting. And sure, some people did. But the majority of people commended me for realizing that my life was spiraling out of control and for taking the steps to better it. Most people were and are beyond supportive of the decision I made five years ago, and I wish I’d known that would be the case when I made that decision. One thing I’ve learned is that people will always surprise you — you just have to give them the opportunity to do so.

    5. Rock Bottom Is an Opportunity to Recreate Your Life

    Before I hit my rock bottom, I thought the life I was living was pretty good. I didn’t realize that I was disappointed in my behavior, unhappy with my physical appearance, frustrated with the way I was becoming a person I didn’t respect. But rock bottom gave me the clarity to see all those things. And while that wasn’t fun at first, it eventually gave me the chance to start doing my life the right way. I got back on track, whether it was with my morals, my workout regimen, my diet, my relationships. Getting sober gave me the time to focus on what I really wanted my life to look like and figure out how to get to that point.

    As I said before, rock bottom is different for everyone. But the common factor is that it’s a point that is the lowest of lows and it can be difficult to image anything getting better. So if you remember one thing in the depths of your rock bottom, just hold onto the fact that it really can only get better — as long as that is what you truly want for yourself.

    View the original article at thefix.com