My Sobriety Story with Carly

“What if sobriety was like a whole new substance in itself?”

This series showcases personal stories of addiction recovery and sobriety. Today’s edition features Carly Schwartz, the author of the forthcoming memoir I’ll Try Anything Twice: Misadventures of a Self-Medicated Life, which will be released by She Writes Press in March. She’s the former editor-in-chief of the SF Examiner and the founding editor of HuffPost’s SF bureau, and her writing has appeared in the San Francisco Standard, ELLE magazine, MSNBC, and more. As an advocate for suicide prevention and addiction recovery, Carly has been a spokesperson for the JED Foundation and Google’s Recovery Month. Learn more at carly.ink and pre-order her book here.

When and how did you get sober?

I finally got sober for good on October 1, 2018, after trying pretty much everything else under the sun to alleviate my severe depression. In the years prior, I’d been on a cornucopia of pharmaceutical antidepressants and tried ketamine infusions, transcranial magnetic stimulation, stints in both inpatient and outpatient psych wards, special fad diets, and all sorts of other things that didn’t move my depression an inch.

All the while, drugs and alcohol served as the only temporary relief from my pain, so I never considered it an option to cut them out of my life. But after one too many intense weekend benders left me unable to work or function as a member of society, I had the fleeting thought to try rehab. I figured it would be yet another attempt on my long list of failed treatments. I never could have expected that the day I pulled my car into my rehab center in Marin County, California, would be the day that transformed my life for the better, forever.

What was the turning point in your decision to get sober?

I’d been in denial about my substance use for a long time: How could the one thing that gave me any relief possibly be the one thing keeping me from truly getting well? And since my addiction didn’t look like how “rock bottom” is portrayed in wider culture—I was still gainfully employed, I didn’t drink or do drugs every day, I wasn’t under a bridge with a needle in my arm or hoarding bottles beneath the bathroom sink—it never really occurred to me that sobriety might be my path out of misery.

My decision to check into rehab was random, borderline impulsive, and a reaction to yet another bad hangover. I didn’t even go to rehab with the intent of getting fully sober. I just wanted a “reset” and to figure out a more manageable way to engage with substances. (Ha, ha.) The turning point in deciding to become fully sober was gradually revealed to me over the course of my time in rehab, as I slowly realized it was possible to experience happiness without a veil of substances.

“What if sobriety was like a whole new substance in itself?” I reasoned. I hadn’t experienced life without some form of drugs or booze since childhood. That novelty mindset is what carried me through my early recovery.

Today, my sobriety isn’t so much a lifelong mandate as a continuous, ongoing choice to continue feeling good instead of feeling horrible. In the seven years since getting clean, I have yet to slide back into the depths of depression.

What surprised you about getting sober?

How easy it is. Life in sobriety had a certain ease to it that felt unfamiliar to me, from getting out of bed in the morning to moving through my day taking care of my basic needs. When I first got sober, I thought I might be tempted to drink and use again, that this lifestyle would be a constant exercise in willpower and discipline. But the memories of my depressed days still live inside me so deeply, and the difference between my life then and now is so stark that it’s never even a question of whether I’d want to do anything to jeopardize that.

The other thing that surprised me is how vibrant *all* my feelings are. Before I got sober, happiness was hard to come by—but so was real, pure sadness, because all my emotions were numbed by substances. As a sober woman, I’ve come to relish sadness and anger as much as joy and excitement, because the full spectrum of feelings are the realest versions of themselves.

What’s the biggest challenge you’ve encountered on your alcohol-free journey?

Letting go of my identity as a “party girl” and embracing a quieter lifestyle. In my first few years of recovery, I tried to simply cut out drugs and alcohol but keep the rest of my life exactly as it was: I went to clubs and festivals, stayed out late, and prioritized my social life above all else. But I eventually realized that sober life might look different for me than how I was used to spending my time. These days, I go to bed early, and I’d rather stay in than go out. Allowing myself to embrace the quieter, softer side of myself was a challenge.

What are the biggest benefits or gifts of sobriety?

Every. Single. Thing. I’ve been given another chance at life, and I never take it for granted for a second. A friend recently described me as moving through the world with “pure, unbridled joy,” which would have been a laughable concept a decade ago.

What words of advice would you give someone who’s considering sobriety or newly sober?

There is no “one size fits all” to recovery. You’ll encounter all sorts of people throughout your journey who offer prescriptive solutions and fear-based mindsets, telling you that if you don’t do something a certain way, you’re at risk of losing what you’ve worked so hard for.

I disagree with that notion. There’s a reason that tried-and-true recovery methods work for many people, but that doesn’t have to be the only way: you’re allowed to design your sober life in the way that’s most supportive to you. Supportive being the key word.

The only hard-and-fast rules I try to live by are to cultivate your community—whether that’s a 12-Step group, a social club, your friends, your nuclear family, your dog, nature, or something else—and never stop being honest with them, or yourself. Invest in a network of people/entities whom you trust, and always share your truth. If you slip up or relapse, don’t keep it to yourself, or you’ll get trapped in a vortex of shame. If you’re feeling horrible, don’t keep it to yourself, or you’ll get trapped in a vortex of loneliness. Honesty begets belonging, and belonging begets sobriety.

Please say hello in the comments, and consider sharing your sobriety story.

Thank you for sharing, Carly! We look forward to connecting with you in the comments.