Choosing Sobriety, Not the 27 Club
It’s not a relapse, I just decided to drink again, I told myself, not realizing that this was the beginning of a long, downward spiral.
It was the summer of 2018. I genuinely thought I figured it out, and I would be able to control my drinking again. I, as expected, put a man before my recovery which led me to drink again. Long story short, I had been sober for over 2 years and was living in Paris with my fiance. We lived together, bought a car, and eventually got engaged. I was ready to get pregnant. To settle down. Or so I thought.
All hell broke loose last year, post-lockdown, and we broke up. He wasn’t sure of me, of us, anymore, and I didn’t have time for a man who didn’t know if he wanted to be with me or not. I proceeded to buy a one-way ticket to Mexico and set off with nothing but a backpack and all the freedom in the world.
That year of backpacking Mexico and Central America was genuinely one of the best years of my life. It was fun, until it wasn’t anymore. And the most fucked up part of it all is that after the rock bottoms I hit, deeper and deeper each time, I still reminisce about all of it. Part of my brain wanted to go back to that lifestyle of partying without limits. Every party I went to, I secretly wished it would be my last, so I pushed it to my absolute limits when it came to drugs and alcohol. I wanted to be part of the “27 club” and die a tragic death. I even bought travel insurance which covered repatriation of my body in case I died, so my mum wouldn’t have to pay for it.
I eventually ended up meeting someone just as reckless as me and we traveled all of Central America together before ending up in Manchester, UK. When people asked me what I was doing in the UK, I would just say, “I followed my boyfriend that I met while traveling, who’s a massive Manchester United fan.” But now I know the bigger picture was for me to get back into recovery.
At the time of writing I have over 30 days sober. It was tough, coming back into recovery. My ego had grown, but thankfully I have the AA symbol tattooed on my right middle finger with a promise I kept to myself that if ever one day I needed to come back, I would, and I did.
Here is a little list of things I tell myself when I came back from my relapse:
People will not judge; you are your biggest judge.
Do what’s best for you; put yourself first, for once.
Try sobriety again for a bit and if you don’t like it, you always know the other option.
Be kind to yourself, which includes a lot of self-care. Want that whole entire bar of Toblerone? Do it. Feel like adding an extra sugar in your coffee? Fuck it. Always wanted to start pole dancing? Treat yourself.
Be honest. If something sucks, let it suck and voice it.
Do things differently this time around (for example, when I got sober at 21, I deprived myself of listening to any “party music” as it would trigger me too much. This time, if I feel like listening to my favorite DJ, I will. But once again, this is just MY personal example, you do you).
Listen to people who have been through this before.
You’ve had loads of fun already; don’t you want to see what you can do for yourself on the other side?
I don’t know where life will take me and what 2022 has in store for us. At the end of the day, we can only keep on bettering ourselves, individually. Or at least try to enjoy our lives as best and healthily as we can. I hope this helped someone who needed it.
About C:
You can call me C. I am just another 27 year old French/Singaporean recovering alcoholic/addict writing this from Manchester, UK. I had over 2 years of sobriety back when I was 21, but my story (obviously) couldn't be so easy. I am thus back into recovery after dancing with the devil a little more, a little longer, all throughout living in Paris for the second time and the past year backpacking Mexico and Central America.
Instagram: @disciplinethroughart / @lemondethroughc