Celeste on Sobriety

Our ego is the sense of self that is constructed over a lifetime of experiences - our internal narrative, and one which is rarely based in reality. Many of us who have experienced trauma go through life playing the role of the victim, with our wounded ego reacting to most situations with anger, resentment and a further entrenched belief that we are ‘other than’ and separate from others.  The world and everyone in it is out to get us and everything is perceived as a personal attack on our existence. No one has suffered in this life quite like we have. ‘If you had my life, you would drink too.’ Sound familiar? We react by isolating ourselves as a way of self-preservation in an often hostile world, until one day we discover that magic elixir - our substance(s) or behaviours of choice - a way of quieting the pain of the wounded ego, and for many of us, an opportunity to at least appear functional.  We drink, smoke, inject, inhale and whatever else in response to difficult emotions and th

We hear it all the time - “No one ever said that maintaining abstinence from substances or addictive behaviour was going to be easy, but it is worth it.” Indeed, recovery is a life-long journey, and some times will be easier than others, depending on what obstacles lay in our path, and how connected we are to a program and ongoing support.  We will all experience factors in our life that make recovery harder to keep on top of, and oftentimes, we have no control over these things.  I for one, find the winter months leave me feeling somewhat low in energy and motivation, and I have to fight the urge to wrap myself up in my duvet and hide away from my responsibilities, as well as the work I know I need to do in order to maintain my sobriety. Thankfully, with time and practice, I have largely learned how to manage my symptoms, and keep my recovery as my number one priority. More on this later.  I am not alone in finding winter challenging. For some people this seasonal shift can be mild,

Another year has flown by, and it’s that time of year again! Christmas can be challenging at the best of times but being in recovery doesn’t have to suck the joy out of your seasonal celebrations. Even though I was firm in my decision not to drink and had 6 months solid sobriety under my belt, my first sober Christmas still required some preparation and navigation. And as I moved through the festive period, there were some unexpected things that cropped up. Interestingly, the main issue I had was that my family were more awkward about my sobriety than me! Every time my stepdad mentioned, or had a drink, my mum would apologise on his behalf. I could tell she wanted a glass of wine, but she was holding off to show solidarity. While this was a very sweet and appreciated gesture, I had to remind her on several occasions that I was happy with my decision not to drink and that she could relax and enjoy herself and her wine. I was quite content with my sparkling water, thank you very much! Ev

This is one of the more difficult pieces I have chosen to write, but as I was pulling together content in preparation for National Domestic Violence Awareness Month and reading about other people's experiences, it became clear to me I had my own story to tell, and what better time than now? Not only because I am reflecting on a time when the world around me felt hostile and frightening, but also because I am still unable to fully reconcile the loving, affectionate father I doted on (and who doted on me in return) with the violent, unpredictable bully he sometimes turned into. I never knew which dad I would get, and I often found myself walking on eggshells, even when he was in a good mood, for fear of something setting him off. I never knew how long the good mood would last and so never took it for granted when this was the case. On a good day he was the best dad in the world. On a bad day he was terrifying. I loved, and still love my dad fiercely. But I also know that what he did