Sobriety Suits
I have been wanting to share my experience with sobriety for some time but I wasn’t sure when I would feel comfortable enough to do so. A close friend said to me recently, ‘shame dies in safe places’ and as I listened to her, I knew it was time to share my story in the hope that it might help someone who happens to read this blog.
Before I begin, I appreciate that I am sharing my story on my professional website. Hopefully it won’t send my clients running for the hills. The reason I do this work is because I am so passionate about helping people with how they look and feel about themselves, their outer shell. When they see the benefits of some small changes, their self esteem and feelings of worth strengthen and slowly they feel better. I know this to be true because of my own experiences. The link between our mental health and the way we feel in our own skin is undeniable. If I can help just a little bit then, I am one very happy little lady. As I always say, together we work on what other people see, which in time slowly gives you the confidence to look at any inner work which might need confronting.
You may ask the question, if I understand all of this, then why did I still fall? My answer, I am only human and I never thought alcohol was a problem for me. Turns out I was wrong and it befriended me when I was the most vulnerable. Anything chemically mind altering (which the body doesn’t produce naturally) is not good for me so I am enjoying getting to know myself these days through a clear mind. This only enriches the work I do with my clients and I am passionate about inspiring people to love themselves and make any changes which feel natural to them.
I shared a blog a few years ago about my lifelong experience with anxiety. I realise now that it’s not something which just goes away for good so I have learnt to acknowledge it when it rears its head but not let it define me. One thing I didn’t know about my anxiety is that alcohol made it much worse. Throughout my 20’s and 30’s, I didn’t really drink but I never knew why. I just knew that I was a bad drunk and my hangovers were awful so it was better to pretend to drink and not feel like a party pooper.
I won’t bring too many of the people in my life into this, but I will share some key facts which might help set the scene. I am 44 and I got divorced when I was 38. I live in Farnham with my two boys who live with me most of the time, they are 13 and 11. I work full time as a Personal Stylist and Mum. My sister and parents don’t live very close by but have been my life line.
My relationship with alcohol started slowly. I can’t pin point the exact time when it caught up with me but when it did, it happened at lightning speed and at a time when I was drowning in overwhelm, chaos and heartbreak. I know why I drank, to numb my feelings and to stop me having to feeling anything. I would have a glass of wine to unwind, to take the edge off my anxiety and be free from my monkey mind or to escape from facing difficult feelings.
On Wednesday 20th December 2023, after one glass of wine, I knew I was done with alcohol and I couldn’t take it into my future. Time ticked on and with over six months of sobriety under my belt, I dabbled with the idea that moderation may work. In the summer of 2024, I had a glass of wine and it definitely wasn’t worth it. The slippery slide was waiting for me. I could see the consequences and the pressure of creating logical rules within the confines of a potential chemical addiction. My anxiety would cripple me and failure was inevitable. That was my last drink.
On a lighter note, sobriety made sense to me when I enjoyed being sober so much more than the high of being under the influence of a substance. It wasn’t so much about giving up alcohol in the end, it was about understanding the route of my anxiety and having the tools and support to face difficult feelings without a crutch. I wanted to get real and reclaim my power back. I knew that on the other side of the challenges I faced, was the life I wanted. I am starting to live that life now.
So for anyone who would like to read, this is my letter to alcohol.
Dear Alcohol,
I have started this letter to you many times and denial always stopped me in my tracks. We lived alongside each other for so many years without too much trouble so I was a bit confused why you flawed me when I was at my most vulnerable.
At first you were a good friend. I have been through a few painful times in the last few years and you were there to hold my hand and made everything seem that little bit brighter. You were also there at my best times and made everything look much better. Little did I know you came in stages. Like a person I guess. We all have lovely, kind sides and then the dark shadow self.
There were times when I was very grateful for you when I felt lonely, when my anxiety was screaming and you softened the edges. When my heart was broken you made me forget the pain. I know now that you were just a plaster and at some point you were just delaying the process of opening the wounds. It was only when we broke up I began to heal. As Rumi said ‘The wound is the place where the light enters you’. I understand this now.
The thing that I am most the cross about is that I let you change me. When we were together I argued with the people I loved the most and I became an angry version of myself that I didn’t recognise. I have let you put me in some of the most embarrassing and shameful situations I can ever imagine. But worst of all, I nearly lost everything and everyone I have ever loved. And that was because of you. In the most painful and hardest times you made out to be my best friend but really you were my enemy. You filled me with guilt, disgrace and panic. To try and hide you I isolated myself.
But as strong as you were, I knew your time was running out. The cost of staying friends with you was too high and I saw through you just in time. I won and you lost. The shame and hurt you have left behind is massive. However, I would rather that, than ever be friends with you again. As much as you may like to think you will ever have a chance again, you won’t.
So this is my one and my only letter to you. You have taken all you can take and caused some serious destruction to me and people I love. But like a pearl, I have a little more grit than you thought and now a lot more grace!
Tessa x
I don’t love reading that letter but I am also incredibly proud to have come out the other side. I am very lucky that my time with alcohol was short and it was only when the bottle was very much something of the past that the real work could be done. I am not going to name names here but I am eternally grateful for the human angels who have supported me in the last 18 months. I know that I did the work but your lack of judgement and unwavering faith made it possible.
We as humans all face trauma at some point in our lives, be it with a big T or a little t. I hope my story shows anyone who is suffering silently that there is always help out there. You just have to be brave enough to ask.
x