What I thought would make me happy

... is NOT what really makes me happy

I wake up in the middle of the night, despair clawing at me. My brain is merciless in its vicious attack: You are the worst, stupidest person in the world. You’re slowly killing yourself. You’ll lose everyone you love if you keep going like this.

I stand under the shower, the water beating down on me, and I have only one thought: I have to stop. I have to stop. I have to stop.

I drive home after a long week away, equally giddy with excitement and so impatient that my foot keeps on pressing down harder and harder on the gas pedal. I’m just keen to see Rich and the dogs, I’m telling myself. I don’t allow myself to admit the truth—that I can’t wait to pour myself a glass of wine after a week of abstinence.

I wake up on the bathroom floor. I have no idea how I got there.

This used to be my life the last two years before I quit drinking, which as of last Thursday was 1000 days ago. I quit for many reasons: I didn’t want to feel like that anymore, it worsened my depression, I was terrified of the implications for my health, it kept me from doing what I love, the shame was eating me alive, I was an anxious bundle of nerves and self-doubt, I had lost myself, my life kept getting smaller.

How did I get there?
How did I turn from a reluctant, cautious drinker who drank moderately for most of her life to someone who regularly downed 1-2 bottles of wine in one sitting, and thought about it every day?

Even though the answer to that question is complex, it can be summarized in one sentence: I wasn’t true to myself. I was trying very hard to be who I thought people wanted me to be, and if you hide your true self over a long period of time it will eventually wear you down. Alcohol became the tool I used to blend out the internal conflict, the medicine I swallowed to anesthetize my constant fear of not being enough. It was my escape from the tension between my real self trying to emerge while I still struggled to figure out who I should be to be liked by most people.

Last week I read Liz’s letter Fifty years of learning what happiness means to me, and as soon as I read her two lists of things she thought would make her happy, and things that actually make her happy, I knew I needed to write down my own lists.
Sobriety has given me many gifts: time, money, health, better sleep, increased creativity, peace, mindfulness, more patience, better skin, JOMO instead of FOMO, more meaningful relationships, ease, tranquility. But maybe one of the greatest gifts is clarity. Over the past 1000+ days I’ve discovered (and I’m still discovering) what truly makes me happy as opposed to what I thought would make me happy, and it’s a revelation.

What I thought would make me happy:

• Being universally liked

• A large group of friends

• Being known as “the nice one”

• Outside validation

• Going on lots of vacations

• Happy hour

• A toned body

• Summer and endless days

• “Work hard, play hard”

• Being busy all the time

• Fitting in

• Being known for my accomplishments

What really makes me happy:

• Knowing who I am

• Living according to my values

• Solitude

• One-on-one time with special people

• Moving my body

• Being at peace with myself

• Sobriety

• Waking up with no regrets and no hangover

• Getting up early to drink coffee and write

• Shorter days and long nights

• Being at home

• Belonging

• Knowing I’m whole no matter my accomplishments

I invite you to sit down and create your own lists, even if it’s just for yourself. You might surprise yourself!