In this month’s scripted episode, I revist the topic of sobriety with more in depth details and insight.
Music credit: Karl Casey @ WhiteBatAudio
Here’s the full essay if you’d like to read along:
Sobriety Revisited
By: Jeremy Jordan
Part 1 – Introduction
“He’s on his way. We should go up and watch for him.”
I sat in the basement excitedly in great anticipation, as the words of my friend connected fully with my brain. The words were from one of two of the friends that I was hanging with. For this essay, we’ll just call him ‘J’. As for the other friend, we’ll call him, ‘M’.
From the outside, it looked like another average Friday night for a group of nerdy teens like us. Sitting around chatting or playing games most likely. J would go to a party every once in a while around this era, but certainly not M and I. Not yet. I perhaps painted a picture just now that would make it appear that we were rather unpopular, however, that wasn’t the case. We just had some pretty specific interests and a small select group of individuals that we most liked to hang out with. For a huge chunk of that evening, it was the average night, but after hearing J’s confirmation, it was all about to change. This evening would soon be totally unlike the other weekend nights from the past. I was going to have my first beer.
My friend M and I watched from the front of the house as J made his way over to a truck parked a few houses down. Upon swiftly receiving the goods from the driver, J booked it back down towards us. I thought the running was a pretty odd choice, that probably seemed more suspicious than if he had just casually walked it back, but I wasn’t going to stop him. I was just pumped to try this stuff and see what all the hype was about.
When he finally returned, we all went back inside and headed right into the basement. J placed the beer onto a coffee table and we preceded to sit around it, just basking in its sweet, sweet glow for a while. It was like a scene plucked straight from a raunchy teen comedy. This was no story though, this was a real coming of age moment for us, or so I thought.
The basking came to an end and it was time. We each grabbed a bottle from the six-pack in front of us. Corona was the brand of choice this evening. Looking back now, I’d say that was a pretty damn good choice for a first beer. It could’ve been a much cheaper and shittier selection, and we would’ve been none the wiser. Unfortunately for me, the brand didn’t matter at all. After a few small sips, I started to realize that maybe I wasn’t so crazy about this. My friends seemed to agree with me, that it wasn’t the tastiest thing in the world, but continued to trudge on and make much better progress then I was.
“Guys, I don’t know if I can even finish this first one” I recall saying to them.
“Ah, come on! It’s not that bad!” they replied. Maybe that’s not exactly what they said, but close enough.
The night was quickly transitioning into early morning. Time was not on my side as I sat there with my half empty bottle. No buzz to speak of, no feeling that I was having a coming of age moment that I would one day fondly look back on. None of that, just a couple of annoyed friends who were long done with beer number one. I insisted that they shouldn’t let me slow them down, but they wanted to wait. Part of me thinks that secretly, they weren’t crazy about continuing either and just used me as the scapegoat, but I don’t really know.
When the night finally came to an end, not much more progress had been made. The three remaining beers continued to rest nicely in their case and taunt me while I sat with my friends in the dimly light basement, watching a replay of the ball game from earlier that day. That was that. This would not be the gateway to a life of partying and pounding drinks. This would instead just be an ironic memory from the past.
As you probably know, I would come to really enjoy, actually, strike that. I’d come to love beer and other alcohol. If there was ever a time that I never ended up finishing a beer from that point forward, it was probably because I forgot I had opened it, or was too wasted to do so.
The gateway was coming, it just wasn’t time yet. In fact, it would be a few more years before we would even dabble in this stuff again. We mostly went back to just doing the normal stuff we were accustomed to. It’s hard to imagine that there was a time when I had no interest, but that was truly the case. One particular evening though, the conditions were right. I was ready to give it another go, and things as I knew them, would never be the same again.
Part 2 – Passing Through The Gateway
The first time that I can recall getting really intoxicated for the first time, was at a grad party. I feel comfortable saying this now because enough time has passed and I think just about everyone had some kind of experience with drinking around this time. It was the summer of 2009, we had just finished high school, and the world was ahead of us. I had lots of anxiety about what was to come, but was usually able to push it away rather quickly whenever I felt it start to bubble up. It was summer, the last blast, baby! I could worry about all that future stuff in the fall. For now, my main objective was to live it up with friends and go on crazy adventures that I could one day look back on or even tell stories about to my kids.
I had high expectations set for what I wanted the summer to look like. I foolishly feared that maybe I wouldn’t see some of these great people for quite a while, or worse, ever again. Of course, I was way off in thinking that. I still maintain a lot of quality friendships with folks from that era. Graduation was not some magic force that separated people, especially if the bonds were already tight. Young me was blinded by my fears though. The rational line of thinking wasn’t quite there nor the experience to tell me that it’d all be okay. Instead, it was time to soak it all up and party on.
The grad party was out in the country, at an old farmhouse. It was one of those family and close friends combo parties. The family mostly just stuck around for the early parts: the food, the gifts, you know, all that good stuff. As the sun started setting and the place started to thin out, things started to shift in another direction. What was once an innocent family gathering, was soon going to become a rowdy and drunken evening. I sat on a deck with good friends on both sides of me. In front of us was a table with leftover dinner items and various desserts. Next to the table there were two kegs. One keg with cream soda and the other with beer. My mind flashed back to that introductory experience.
I still remembered every nasty detail of those first few tastes. I couldn’t even finish that bottle, so I really wondered how this was going to go. A friend assured me that this would be much better, as beer from a keg is always better. I also remember hearing that it was an acquired taste, so I guess it got better with time. With those things in mind, I thought, “screw it”. It was go time.
I grabbed a red Solo cup and poured myself a drink. I took a small sip and let the taste dance around in my mouth and brain, as if I were at a fancy wine tasting event in Napa Valley, and not just some random grad party in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.
Much better. I could work with this, I thought. It wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but way better tasting than that first one. I could most definitely finish this one, and probably a few more. As the night went on, I was also introduced to a flavored Leinenkugel’s. Holy shit. This was the ticket right here.
By my third drink, I started feeling a buzz and started to finally understand why people liked to do this. I forgot to mention, but this party also had a bouncy castle. This encouraged our rowdiness and became a highlight of the party. As I kept the drinks flowing, so did my friends. Buzzed became drunk pretty quickly. Lots of the events were hazy, but I do know there was lots of shouting and laughing, many trips to the bounce house, and at one point, I recall doing a bad Optimus Prime impression after finding a toy truck in the yard.
The next morning, I felt a little rough, yet at the same time, really great. That was how you kickoff a summer! My friends and I tried to piece together the evening as we woke and got ready for the day. We all had different recollections, but all agreed that we needed to do this again soon.
It wouldn’t take long before we did do it again, and again, and again. That particular summer didn’t have a ton of drinking opportunities for us, but things would change. I found out quickly how wrong I was about not seeing my friends anymore. Lots of my friends ended up going to school in state, and nearly all came back home for major holiday breaks.
Around this time, I wouldn’t have called myself a major drinker. The only time I would drink, would be if I went to an event that provided it. As previously stated, those opportunities were limited at first. I commuted to school and booze was pretty hard to come by. The Fall and Spring would have their moments, but by Summer of 2010, I was re-united with many of my close friends, and it was on. We were young and free, and ready to make some magical moments. There was no thought or fear that this could lead to anything negative. When you feel like you are on top of the world, I guess your brain doesn’t want to consider such things.
Part 3 – The Top of The World
Over the course of the next couple of years, my friends and I would become quite the party animals. We no longer just waited for drinking opportunities to present themselves to us, we created them. Drinking became the number one pastime. Nearly every weekend there was a house party or some other type of get-together where we could get up to all kinds of shenanigans. Each different party became a new story and memory for the data-bank. The bond between my group of friends seemed to be growing stronger than ever. Was it the alcohol? At the time, it sure seemed like that. I knew that even back then, I didn’t need it to have fun, and the same story-worthy, memorable moments happened before we discovered drinking, but it sure seemed to help amplify things.
One of my favorite memories from this era, was an overnight bonfire party in town. The bonfire party was a consecutive thing for a few years in a row, and tons of people attended each time. During one of those years, we’d end up getting our alcohol stolen and I would turn this story into a screenplay. The memory that I am speaking of though, was not that. It was actually a memory of the first time we attended. It was an evening where things just seemed to be going so right and I had felt like I was firing on all cylinders. I was all hopped up on a bunch of wine coolers, socializing with people that I usually never would’ve, thus giving myself a boost of confidence and esteem. Whether I was actually being smooth and coherent didn’t matter. In my head, I was doing great, and that made for a fantastic evening.
I was really enjoying my view from the top. I was a much more social person, I was having a great time, and much like that Summer of 09, it appeared that the world was still ahead of me. The problem was that time moves fast, especially if you are constantly in a drunken stupor with no real plan of action. Before you know it, you wake up one morning, look out your window, and you realize, “oh shit. That world isn’t looking so far ahead of me anymore.”
By the end of 2012 into 2013, I quote, unquote, took a break from school to figure things out. With the absence of schooling, I started working full time in retail hell. Often, I would feel pretty anxious and depressed, but I thought that it just came with the territory. I really wasn’t super concerned. It was most likely because of my job, I thought. I wouldn’t stay long and things would be all good again. After all, I had big dreams, damn it! I was going to be somebody! Everything was totally fine. Besides, the bad feelings weren’t always there. On weekends, I was still having the time of my life. People were still around, there were plenty of parties to be had, and I had started a little podcast called Media Pod Smash with one of my friends from retail hell. It was around this time that I also found out about a little thing called Nicotine, which helped to ease some of my weekly tensions.
Most weekends, I found myself still going to a lot of college parties, as even though I had quit, my friends were much better decision makers and continued to attend. I recall lots of various evenings partying in dorms or roaming the streets hopping from house to house, meeting all sorts of wacky characters. These types of parties introduced me to lots of different people and experiences. With those experiences came new substances to try. On top of the alcohol and nicotine, I also ended up trying [REDACTED], as well as [REDACTED], a few times. College was a time for experimenting, right? Even if I wasn’t actually attending anymore myself.
Not once during any of this, did I think that I had a problem, or was heading toward one. To me, it was all gravy, baby! I still had big ambitions and goals and just had a feeling that it was going to be all good. Plus, everyone around me was doing the exact same thing. This was just what young people were supposed to do, I thought. This was a phase that we would burn ourselves out of eventually and then really start our lives. I don’t know why I had myself fooled like this when there were so many indicators that things weren’t right. The fact that I had gotten myself hooked on nicotine was an indicator, random long benders during extended periods of time off was definitely an indicator. Some nights before an early shift of work, I’d drink and try to power through the next day with little to no sleep. Uh, yeah, that was an indicator too. These things should’ve been signs that change was in order, but again, I was too high up at the top of my own little world. I wasn’t reading any signs.
Eventually, lots of exciting new life changes started happening. Not exactly to me, but all around me. College was coming to an end for just about everyone and many of my close friends got married. Folks were ready to move on and mature. We would still all be really good friends, but it appeared that the days of going hard and partying all night long, were coming to an end.
I wasn’t ready to accept this; not just yet. I stood up in defiance and looked out over the metaphorical ledge. I still loved the view from up here, however, unbeknownst to me, the foundation that I stood upon was slowly starting to deteriorate. When the foundation would no longer support me, that was it. No back-up platforms, no parachute. A scary and intense free fall to the bottom. No matter how much control I thought I had, a dive was coming, and when you go from all the way to the top of the world to the bottom of a pit in a relatively short time, the impact really fucking hurts, man.
By the Summer of 2016, the shit had really hit the fan. At this point, just about everyone had moved on. I managed to make it out of retail, but I had a ton of other issues that I faced. I was still hopelessly addicted to nicotine gum, I was drinking all the time, and if you recall from the essay where this all started, I was at my all time highest weight and could no longer fit into my favorite orange button up shirt. The podcasts and other media projects that I was working on had all been abandoned. I rarely felt inspired and was lucky if I could just muster up a couple paragraphs in a notebook. What had I become? This wasn’t supposed to be how life ended up for me. Just a few years ago, we were flying so high.
The indicators that I missed previously, were not lost on me this time. I knew that I needed to fix my shit or the consequences would be dire. To my credit, I did do that, kinda. Over the course of the next year, I slimmed back down through diet and slowing way down on the drinking. I thought that I had successfully figured things out, and was ready to go back to business. I could relaunch the pod, start writing again, whatever else! I’d get back on track in no time and join my friends in some wonderful conversations about all those crazy times. I’d look back and be happy with how much I’d grown, hell, maybe I’d even write a book about all my experiences.
I was wrong, way wrong. I was able to feel good about my small achievements for a short while, but I never got to the root of why I had gotten into the situation that I found myself in, in the first place. There was no reflection at all, really. There were just some actions that acted as a band-aid over a massive gash. I thought that I had pulled myself up from the bottom, but in all reality, just built a temporary platform to stand on. Like the first, much higher platform that I once stood on, this one was also deteriorating. It wouldn’t be long before, poof! No more platform and a fall back down to the bottom.
Part 4 – The Bottom of The Pit and Beyond
Between 2017 and 2018, things remained pretty steady. I thought I was doing pretty well, even though a lot of my bad habits remained. I still continued to chew nicotine gum, didn’t have the greatest mindset, and though it did slow, the drinking continued. The band-aid was peeling off and the cold, reality of my situation was about to smack me in the face.
In order to avoid retreading too much on things that I already wrote about, I’ll try and plow through the next couple years. To prevent what I thought would soon be a repeat of that Summer of 2016, I quit chewing the nicotine gum. To many people, this probably doesn’t sound all that significant. To me, it was an Earth shattering, life changing event. It had quite a hold on me and the decision that I made to leave it behind was enormous.
I quit cold turkey. At the beginning, I was a miserable son of a bitch who had lots of struggles, but I held on tight and never gave up. As time progressed, so did I. With each step up the metaphorical ladder of growth, I gained more clarity and confidence in myself. Soon, I didn’t even think about the gum anymore. Instead, I became focused on the familiar views from the top of the ladder.
In the background of my battle, there were some very tragic personal things going on, however, I’d felt that I was coping with everything very well. I became a more active person, had tons of energy, and was generally just feeling really good about my whole situation. Like the band-aid of dieting and slowing down my alcohol consumption during the end of that wild summer all those years ago, the act of quitting the gum and getting active was just a temporary fix. This time, it was a much better and stronger band-aid, but there were still some other issues being covered up.
Just before hitting the year mark of no nicotine, I experienced the loss of my Mom. Shortly after that, the entire world experienced Covid. A spiral started to happen. It was very subtle at first. There were a few insane nights out and some miserable mornings that followed. Eh, who cares about that. I was doing all the right things in every other aspect of life. Besides, I was in pain. If there was ever a time for a free pass, surely it was right here and now, right? Of course, I know how wrong that is. Everyone goes through shit all the time. You still have a responsibility to be present and give it your all. You don’t get a free pass to act on whatever foolish desires that you have just because you have been dealt a bad hand in life.
In the ensuing months, things continued to get worse. Some nights I’d go out, come home after bar close, wake up the next morning from my stupor, and barely remember a thing. Sometimes I felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world. I’d continue to mark the days on my calendar, but there were no achievements to celebrate or anything noteworthy to write down in any of the tiny, daily boxes. I actively kept a journal going around this time and most of the entries would be me pleading with my self to slow down or stop altogether. I was heading down a terribly destructive path and I knew it, but I just couldn’t stop. I sought out advice from others at times, even though I knew exactly what the answer was. The best way to alievate the shame and awfulness that I was going through was to get to the source. I had to rip the band-aid right off. I needed to look inward and examine my feelings, my motivations, my pain. I needed to get to know myself all over again, even if it wasn’t always pretty at times.
There was no big ah-ha moment that lead me to finally quitting, just the knowledge that I had already done something similar with the nicotine gum. I was also just getting really tired. I was going to be entering into my 30’s and I knew that time was ticking. I couldn’t let my legacy be that I was just some apathetic loser who tried to do some stuff once, failed, and never tried again. I still had a chance to right the ship, and even though my life was not what it once had been, nor would some aspects ever be the same, I became motivated. I thought of my Mom and all of her struggles. She did her best to give me a wonderful life in spite of everything she faced and the least I could do was honor her by being the best person that I could be.
Quitting was no easy task. I didn’t experience a lot of the physical stuff that came with quitting nicotine, just a lot of mental stuff mostly. My biggest struggle was in figuring out what I would do with my newfound time and in figuring out who I really was now. Much of my identity had been this heavy drinking party guy for so long. Now what?
With each new day, I started to learn some things about myself. I began finding fulfillment in more simple things. Something like a contemplative walk on a beautiful day was fulfilling to me. What became the biggest time filler in my alcohol free life, was doing creative projects again. Throwing myself into a project that I cared about was extremely fulfilling. I didn’t and still don’t care if anything that I do ever finds a huge audience. It would surely be nice, but I do it selfishly. Every recorded audio, video, or written piece has allowed me to express myself and bring me lots of joy in ways that I never thought I could obtain without the help of a substance.
On top of the simple and creative things, I found new meaning and appreciation in relationships in life. Throughout my 20’s I took a lot of friendships for granted. I expected consistency without putting in a lot of the effort that relationships need in order to flourish. I still am not perfect with this, but I have identified the important people in my life that have helped me and will continue to try my best to maintain those relationships and let them know that they are meaningful to me.
As I sit here today, I’m almost two years alcohol free. I didn’t think that I’d ever be able to say that. There were times where it seemed like even going a couple days in a row would be quite a feat. I’m not going to lie, I still think about it sometimes. I often paint negative pictures of my experiences with substances, but there was lots of fun moments too. I do miss the wild adventures sometimes, though I don’t plan on going back to that life. If I want to achieve all the crazy things on my list of to-dos before the end and continue to honor my Mom’s legacy, I simply can’t.
About a week ago at the time of this writing, I got to see some dear friends of mine. We all decided to meet in the very lovely town of Lake Geneva at a wine bar. I know what you’re thinking, “oh no. Is this going to have some horrible twist ending?” Quite the contrary.
There was no pressure from anybody at all, in fact, lots of support. I didn’t ever feel like I needed to partake in the drinking with everyone else. I drank my N/A option and remained present in the moment. We told stories and shared many laughs. It was like I had stepped into a time machine and nothing had changed. I had finally felt like I had achieved the thing that I was looking for during all of those many hazy nights in the past; self-acceptance. I sat at the table and felt secure. I knew who I was and I really like me. I’m still really flawed, but we as humans all are. I know that every day I’m attempting to be a little bit better than I was, and that’s what matters. When I arrived home after this group hangout, I felt like I was back on top of the world. Only this time, the foundation that I stood upon was much, much more solid.
An undeniable truth that I now believe, is that no matter how bleak the situation seems, you have the power to pull yourself back up from the darkness. You have an inner ability that can cause ripples and inspire others. You can change the fucking world. At times it’ll be really hard and seem like life is throwing everything that it has at you, but if you stand tall and put up the best fight of your life, for your life, you’ll make it. Trust me.
Media Pod Smash off!
-Jeremy
Media Pod Smash! 