A New Normal: 3 Ways I’m Managing Long-Term Recovery

Learning to be at peace with a new normal has been my greatest challenge this year. 

After celebrating three years of continuous sobriety in May 2021, it felt like I was finally coming into my own. However, there was a sudden feeling of unexplainable dread - had I reached the end of the road? Was this all that recovery would offer? I had become suspicious of my progress and was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For almost a decade, I had ridden the tumultuous waves of gradual addiction, full-out chaos, moments of surrender, and countless stumbles to find a path that best aligned with what I needed. In doing so, there was an omnipresent sense of character development and urgency. There was urgency to manage my drinking, urgency to do damage control from the fallout, urgency to get sober, urgency to go to treatment and find a program...you get the picture. 

It felt like trying to pack a lifetime of healing and lessons into an accelerated timeline that would somehow balance out the years of pain. I was beginning to mistake simplicity for stagnation, and it invoked a fear that if I wasn’t continuously learning a lesson, it must have meant that I was regressing.

It was this year that I started to unpack my relationship with self-improvement, realizing that I had used the premise as a form of punishment. There was always something that needed fixing, unlearning, atoning, redeeming. I barely allowed myself to take a self-compassion break - it was hustle culture, but for recovery. I was convinced that once I detached from “past Rachel,” I could finally allow myself to feel love and acceptance.

Rehabilitation has traditionally been presented in a very linear, almost assembly-line fashion: You admit that you need help, get sober (or practice harm reduction), and get on with life. However, for so many of us, recovery is not an isolated incident; it becomes a part of how we think, behave, and connect.

In my fourth year of sobriety, I’ve taken a step back from constantly posting about my recovery trials so that I could really take time to marinate about what lies ahead. Not necessarily in a “worry spiral” manner, but, rather, as a contemplative step that explores and honors my relationship with healing. 

Here are three takeaways that have brought comfort and hope in creating a sustainable recovery path:

I’ve given myself permission to step back and make room for processing complex topics.

It’s easy to poke fun at the rambling newcomer, yet, for some, that might feel like the only way you can process what’s swirling around in your brain like a whirlpool on fire. If you’ve used substances as a substitute for processing painful feelings and haven’t learned constructive ways to unpack them, it’s no surprise that it might take some time and patience to find your way. From my own experience, I had a knee-jerk reaction to intellectualize and make sense of every challenge thrown my way as quickly as possible. 

Even with good intentions, this ended up putting me at a disadvantage; giving myself only so much time to process these lessons provided a very surface-level understanding of both myself and the topic at hand. In stepping back from my social media to give my brain a chance to process, I was able to form a fuller understanding of what did or didn’t resonate. 

I’ve created affirmations that hold room for growth and curiosity.

Raise your hand if you’ve stared at the mirror, said the affirmations you found on Instagram out loud, and immediately felt your inner voice say, “This feels forced.” It’s ok, my hand is up, too. I don’t know about you, but saying, “I welcome whatever comes my way” over and over didn’t exactly calm my anxiety - in fact, the more I repeated affirmations that felt extremely disconnected from reality, the more I focused on that discrepancy. 

Don’t get me wrong, affirmations can be a powerful tool, but as someone who is still learning how to trust herself, I needed a reframe. When I learned to approach affirmations as someone who wasn’t “there” yet, it started to invite a more tangible sense of how I could align my life to fit those phrases staring back at me on my mirror. 

Instead of saying: “I forgive myself for the mistakes I have made,” I started to shift to: “I welcome the opportunity to forgive myself.”

Instead of saying: “I am abundant with generosity,” I got curious and reflected: “What will life look like when I embrace generosity?” And so on.

I’ve begun to embrace the notion of “recover to live, not live to recover.”

Once I started to become more comfortable with my identity in recovery, I also started to feel guilty. Recovery was starting to become just one part of my life, and I feared that if I wasn’t perpetually in “healing mode,” it meant that I was slipping.

Here’s the thing, though: Recovery isn’t meant to be a lifelong punishment, it’s meant to be a vessel for living your most authentic, joy-filled life. It can be easy at times, especially when first starting out, to see the early stages as the final chapter. I still remember in media interviews when I would say, “First and foremost, I am a woman in recovery.” Although it was technically true, I was still at a point where attaching my identity to recovery was crucial in keeping myself focused. At this point, however, recovery is more fluid - it belongs in my life, yet, does not define it. 

This doesn’t necessarily mean that I’ve “moved past” it - instead, it’s a testament to embracing its gifts and giving myself permission to evolve. 

Prioritizing sustainability in my personal journey has given me room to breathe and be hopeful for what’s to come. I am building trust with my future self’s capability, as well as whatever beliefs she may hold or release. Long-term recovery is not a perpetually punitive hamster wheel; it empowers you to meet life on life’s terms. Just for today, that is enough.

About Rachel:

Rachel Brady (she/her), also known as Shots to Shakes, is a recovery-based writer and copywriter. Since 2016, she has used her sobriety reflections as a vessel for healing, connecting, and challenging the stigma behind addiction and mental health. When she isn’t typing away, you can find her rock climbing, cuddling with her rescue pup, or napping under her weighted blanket. 

Instagram: @shotstoshakes

Writing Inquiries: CreateWithRachelB@gmail.com