You’ve changed

Evolution. Modernisation. Advancement. Adaptation. Revolution.

I’ve wondered why such an undeniable fact of life fills so many with dread. Why each time we turn a new page, we start contemplating all the pages that came before. Why change feels so intertwined with grief.

“The only constant in life is change”

Heraclitus

In my own life, I’ve changed a lot.

Coming up to two years sober, the woman I was then is vastly different from the woman writing this post. I’m softer, calmer, kinder and more forgiving. My life is slower, quieter and more honest. I’m healthier. I’m financially stable. I’m significantly more confident in who I am and my abilities. I could go on but you’ve read it all by now if you’ve been here a little while…

But change is hard. Regardless of whether you want it or need it. Phrases like “pushing yourself” “stepping out of your comfort zone” “challenging yourself” “forcing it” and “letting go” come to mind.

When someone says “you’ve changed”, even if you know you have, it stings.

Recently, an old friend asked a question;

“How has sobriety changed you?”

without hesitation, I responded, “entirely” and then it hit me.

Materially, you could argue much is the same; the industries I work in, my favourite bands, my style. But in my core, I’m not who I was. At all.

This has been a hard concept to get my head around. Day-to-day, I don’t notice; the softness in my voice, the lightness in my eyes, the changes in reactivity or anger, that I listen better, walk into a room brighter, take less time to complete tasks, but more time to make an important decision…, but as days turn into years, I look back and realise: if I met Rebekah years ago, I would be meeting someone I barely recognise.

People often ask me what the best and worst aspects of sobriety are. My answer to both is loss.

I spent early months grieving. The friends I would no longer see. The drinks I could no longer drink. The highs I could no longer feel. The nights I would no longer have. The excuses I could not use. The behaviour I could no longer justify. The parties I would not attend. The late nights smoking until my lungs ached… The memories that would fade over time.

Today, I am more grateful for loss. I lost the anxiety leaving the house during working hours (sober). I lost the ability to push through when my body is screaming to stop. I lost the voices in my head telling me I’m better off gone. I lost chronic insomnia and sleep paralysis. I lost low self esteem and punishing behaviour. I lost people I was trauma bonded to. I lost the insecurity of being liked, being funny, being “the best”. I lost a world where reality was unreliable, unsafe.

“I’ve found that the process of discovering who I really am begins with knowing who I really don’t want to be”

Each morning I note an inventory listing how the day before has gone, and what I’m grateful for today. A once forced task that has allowed me to own my part in what’s happened, and help me keep that ego in check, now a daily staple that helps me answer the question “am I the person I want to be?”.

I realised recently, I was focusing too much on what my brain called “justice” and it was causing me confusion, anger and pain. Underneath it all was ego. “If they only did it this way…”

It creeps up silently, uses new words that sound softer or less selfish, ready to take me back. A place where I couldn’t trust others or myself. Hidden in things ultimately out of my control.

“I’ve also learned that I am not powerless over some things. I am not powerless over my attitudes. I am not powerless over negativity. I am not powerless over assuming responsibility for my own recovery”

Change is our only constant, but we can resist it. Living in addiction I was stagnant in suffering. I see it with people in my life who “can’t change” their job/home/relationship because this is “how they are” or “how it’s always been”. I, for a long time, excused myself and others’ behaviour by assuming that people can’t (and won’t) change.

Well, I was wrong.

I’m living evidence that people change. Almost entirely.

Your day can change, instantly.

“Most of our problems are of our own making and change will only rectify them”.