AAt first glance, sobriety looks beautiful on social media—and is relatively easy to achieve. A quick search for sober motivation will lead you to a series of brightly colored lists suggesting making plans that don’t involve alcohol, spending time with friends who support your choices, trying new things (like mocktails!), and taking walks. to combat alcohol cravings. The posts are usually accompanied by a white-toothed influencer standing on a mountain in a bikini.
The internet paints a picture of sobriety, but with smoothed edges and occasional moments of vulnerability. A woman pushes her toddler on a swing with the caption “I drank vodka here”; a block reads: “I realize drunk women are easier to control.” Darkness creeps in, but Then it’s back to normal programming; memes, hashtags and sunrise diaries.
I quit drinking three months ago, imagining it would be as easy as buying leggings with the promo code sobergalclub. But I haven’t yet enjoyed better sleep or greater productivity. As one 30-day sober influencer mused, I don’t look back on my years of drug and alcohol abuse with “zero regrets.” I have infinite regrets. My cup overflowed.
While I did go hiking, it was new to me.
Since quitting drinking, I have been busy dealing with previously ignored gum disease and thyroid disease that I had been masking with alcohol. I go to bed at 9pm, and the sober internet insists this should be my new happy place, but with the crippling pressure to be, it’s hard to “hold a book” and “have a nice glass of something” thing”. Optimizing my look overnight, my bikini was ready for the next morning’s shoot.
The difficulties of internet addiction are noticed online but often not taken seriously. There might be a before and after photo showing – this is me as an alcoholic, now as I am sober. Or a post alluding to a past struggle with addiction, then ultimately finding happiness in sobriety. There is a feeling that sobriety is the answer to all life’s problems.
In this world, addiction is history and sobriety is a finished product. Sober influencers have emerged from the abyss of addiction and spent prime time frolicking under waterfalls. They have reached their destination and are now sharing their experiences to inspire others to follow a similar path.
I’m happy for them – but it’s all so neat. I longed to know the messy, intimate details of their struggles with alcohol so I could feel less alone in my own life. But they don’t owe me anything. I didn’t expect a stranger in the supermarket to be with me through her darkest moments.
I recently attended my 20th high school reunion, where I learned that 9 of my peers had died since graduation, most from drug and alcohol abuse. A boy I played basketball with had a drug-induced heart attack in Mexico. A girl in my English class is addicted to ice.
Sobriety is a “life-saving trick” because it keeps you alive.
I shared my decision to quit drinking on social media. People like my posts and send me private messages about their own experiences quitting drinking or wanting to quit drinking. There is a huge community of sober people online, but ultimately we are alone.
I joined a local amateur choir because I could only write so much gratitude journaling in my spare time. We meet weekly and practice choral arrangements for Crowded House songs. I had to listen carefully to the people on either side of me, find their voices, and align my voice with theirs.
It requires intense concentration, like threading a needle. If I’m louder or quieter than someone else, I’m doing something wrong. During breaks we drank tea and ate biscuits that others had brought from home. We talk about our days. Very peaceful.
There is an AA meeting near my house tonight, but I don’t think I qualify. I don’t think I’m addicted to alcohol, but when I drink I often make very poor decisions that endanger my safety.
Now, I’m grateful for the quotes and beautiful editing skills of the online sobriety community, as well as my weekly vocals. I’ve memorized the details of the AA meeting, even though the thought of attending makes me feel a lump in my throat. I’m glad to know it’s there.