I have this time marked off to work on writing my book. Naturally, instead of doing that I have worked on my substack profile changing all the settings and coming up with a new name for my newsletter. Hope you enjoy.
Growing up I was taught all about stranger danger. I was told never to talk to anyone that I didn’t know unless of course I was directed by my parents or teacher. “This is your new Sunday school teacher Samantha. Say hello.”
I was told that strangers were dangerous. The adults in my life left out the words “could be dangerous” when describing the things that strangers do to children. Steal them and hurt them mostly. Let’s just say that if a strange car pulled up while I was playing outside and offered me candy or to pet a litter of puppies I knew to point and scream “STRANGER” while running away.
In 2017, when I carried my childhood anxiety with me into adulthood and it reached it’s peak I had no choice but to turn to a stranger for help. At the time, I was dealing with something. I wasn’t sure what it was though actually. It was debilitating anxiety for sure, but something else. Something else was making me wake up in the middle of the night shaking uncontrollably. Something else was leaving me with a headache all day long. Something else was causing me severe self loathing.
I had a clue of what it might be but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. I couldn’t address this with the people around me. I couldn’t face this until I gathered more information on my own. I needed a guide, someone who didn’t know me. Someone who wouldn’t reflect back to me what I wanted to hear or who wouldn’t make me feel defensive. Someone who wouldn’t judge me.
I didn’t have social media accounts like I do now. But I did have the internet. I had a google search bar. I could find people, strangers if I really wanted some help. It hadn’t occurred to me that someone could see my search history but no one in my life cared about my search history.
I typed into the google search bar the most ego driven line I’ve ever stated “Cool People Who Don’t Drink.” It was there, at the top of the page, that a stranger appeared. Instead of pointing and yelling Stranger Danger, I went into the car for the puppies. I read and read and read until I saw myself in that stranger’s story. It was only then that I had the courage to face the truth, that my problem was my toxic relationship with alcohol.
I’ve only ever been to one AA meeting. It was lovely and the people were welcoming. While there, I understood the concept of anonymous. People need a safe place to share their stories without burdening/terrifying/running off their closest people. I needed to be anonymous at first too. I wanted to figure out what this “not drinking thing” was going to be before I started telling people that I was alcohol free.
I wanted to know things like:
Is there life after you stop drinking?
What do you do for fun?
How do you cope with life?
How do you celebrate?
How do you sulk?
Am I crazy?
Can I do this?
Is there something wrong with me?
I wanted to ask strangers that had gone before me to tell me exactly what I was up against. I wanted to ask things that I couldn’t ask my family members or closest friends in fear that they would think I was an awful mother and a terrible person no longer worthy of their love. Or worse, I was afraid that some of those closest people would tell me to keep drinking, because drinking is fun and it’s what we all do. I was afraid to change. I was afraid not to change.
This newsletter has been a recap of all the blogs that I posted along my journey for the first five years of sobriety (along with other things that I choose). But mostly it’s a guide to how I personally survived without alcohol in my life. It’s my hope that someone, a stranger, can use it by seeing themselves in my story. So I changed the name to more accurately reflect what a reader might really be looking for-an answer that only a stranger can provide.
Want more on that story of the stranger that helped me? Read about it here.
Want to ask a question about sobriety? Just reply to this email or put it in the comments.