Tag Archives: recovery


I’m here. I’m sober, over 2 years now. It is the best thing I have ever done. I have just gone through a difficult time with family (in-law) health issues and death, and I believe that if I was still drinking the emotional wreckage I would have caused would have been unbelievable.

I will admit I don’t feel like blogging these days. I don’t see that as a bad thing, I think I am just not a blogger at heart. In order to get sober, I needed to find rigorous honesty and I believe blogging was my entry into that world. I can say that from that beginning, it grew into my non-anonymous life. I am grateful for that and I would recommend anonymous blogging to anyone if that will help them get started in telling the world who they really are. Telling my story and struggles here was a huge part of my early recovery. It’s not that I have it all figured out either, I just have far less of a need to share every mental twist and turn.

I will admit that with regards to this blog being here , that kind of leaves me with a feeling of unfinished business. Today, I know what that is, and even more important than knowing what that is, is the fact that I am able to admit it. It is me thinking: “they want to hear from me, that I am still sober, they are waiting, they might think I have failed, …”.  Yeah! Ego and grandiosity, I still have it – but I can tell you about it, and that is new.

I don’t think I am alone. I started following many blogs in early sobriety and many have shut down. I know many of them are still sober and maybe they shut them down to turn the unfinished business into finished business – I really don’t know. I considered shutting down this blog, to ease my ego-centered feelings of guilt for not blogging – to close that unfinished business. But I’m not going to do that. I like that this blog is here. I like the idea that someone might find it helpful. I like to read it myself and remember. I like the difficult challenge of learning that this isn’t unfinished business, it’s just my business. I might blog, I might not. There are no blogging quotas or deadlines,  and I don’t need to feed my grandiosity and importance by pretending there are.

Anyway, there was my feeble attempt at closing unfinished business. I end this post and everything remains the same. Peace.

The Skull

We talk a lot about fear in sobriety. As I peel back the layers, I understand more and more about fear, both in myself and others, but it still remains somewhat of a mystery to me. The one thing I can say is that I used to believe I was afraid of almost nothing, and now I am seeing that I was and am afraid of almost everything – the baffling thing is that the more things I realize I am fearful of, the less fear I have. I have also come to realize that sometimes I have so many fears going on, that I don’t know which one to face and I need to get down to the root cause -that is what this post is about.

For my 8th Birthday my parents gave me the life-size, glow-in-the-dark skull pictured above. They purchased it secretly during our Disneyland trip. I may have even asked for it, I don’t think so, but it is possible – don’t remember.  I may have thought it was cool at first but I don’t remember that either, I only remember the aftermath. That skull sat on my dresser, directly in my line of sight across from my bed, glowing at me nightly. I was terrified of it, I would lie awake for hours, every single night, envisioning that it was alive and all the dastardly things it wanted to do to me. This went on for YEARS, I never told anyone, I never moved it. Face my fears? Yeah buddy, I did that, I faced that motherfucker every single night. But no, I wasn’t facing the real fear. The fear of being my authentic self, the fear of admitting I was afraid, the fear of disappointing my parents, the fear of my tough drill instructor father being disappointed in having a son that was afraid of a toy skull, the fear of admitting my truth, the fear of not being exactly who I thought you wanted me to be. When I described myself as a chameleon in my drinking story, this is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, I strove to be whatever I thought you wanted, and it corrupted my soul. The fear of preserving my pride and ego was worth any price. What does this have to do with drinking? Everything to me. More specifically, it has everything to do with my sobriety and recovery. Put simply, I need to find and face the real fears to make progress in my recovery.

You know, that skull was meant to be in my life. It has taught me a lesson, a lesson that took 38 years to learn, but a lesson nonetheless. That skull still sits in my old room at my mother’s house. Maybe I will have her bring it to me, a reminder of the fear that wasn’t the real fear, a reminder to keep searching.