Originally, motorcycle clubs were formed around a love of motorcycles.
But maybe you’re right, maybe the emotional depth of the commonality can play a part in the depth of the connection within the community. R4R is a perfect example of that.
You’re right, it’s much more meaningful. I feel like the conversations I have with people about sobriety and mental health create a closer connection a lot quicker and they make me feel better too.
I think it depends what the struggle is. For example, I've read that group therapy isn't always great for OCD because having a group of people with OCD results in them talking about their OCD which actually makes their obsessions worse.
I think we just need community in general, with common interests and then there would be a lot less struggling.
Yep. And once upon a time when people actually did shit they enjoyed because houses were places to cook, shower and sleep and not much more, people would meet people with common interests while out and about enjoying said activities.
Also, there were times at the meeting last night where I had vivid flashbacks to some of the nice feelings I would get when using drugs and alcohol. I can definitely see how over-immersing yourself in certain things at certain times can be risky.
I’m so sorry that happened, Jane. I can’t imagine how difficult that would be to process.
My sober date is 19/4/22. Almost 21 months ago.
I’d always drank on weekends and used drugs recreationally. Slowly though, as life/work stresses increased I was gradually losing control of my substance use. It was getting out of hand it was starting to control me. It would influence decisions I was making every day. I was starting to prioritise it over the things that mattered to me the most. My family, work, my friends. It got to a point where my favourite way to use substances was alone. I’d sit and wallow in my misery and have drink after drink, line after line, just wanting to be left alone.
At the same time, I was trying to lead a “normal life”. I was good at my job. We were covering the bills. My partner was pregnant. We were excited to be having a baby and moving to the coast.
But I was leading this kind of double life. My drinking wasn’t so much a secret but my drug use was. I was being dishonest and hiding a lot behaviour and money.
Ultimately I just got so tired and I couldn’t do both anymore. Something I had to give. I went on a four-day rampage over Easter while my partner was away with her mum for the weekend. She got home and I was missing. I wasn’t answering my phone or replying to texts.
I got home and she was furious. Not about the state I was in, or the thousands of dollars I’d blown over the last four days, but because I had put her through so much stress. She knew I wasn’t going well and had quite rightly, feared the worst. 6 months pregnant laying up thinking her partner was dead.
I just didn’t have the energy anymore. I couldn’t keep up the facade that everything was ok. I was trying to be a “man”. My stress was mine. So I would deal with it. I didn’t want to bother anyone else. But ultimately, it all got too heavy for me to carry on my own.
I had a break down when I got home. I realised how burnt out I was. Lying to myself that I could have both lives. That I was doing fine. Justifying it because the mortgage was paid and “I wasn’t harming anyone but myself”.
For months I’d woken up on Mondays and dragged my arse to work, paranoid about the drug bus waiting in the car park. Luckily it never happened. I’d tell myself and even my partner “I’m not going this shit anymore, I hate it so much”. I meant every word, every time. But by the following Wednesday or Thursday I’d be feeling half human again, disregard how I felt the previous Monday and be drinking again. By Friday I’d be taking drugs again. The cycle repeated and my partner, understandably, got tired of my weekly, bullshit Monday morning story.
That Tuesday morning at 3:30am I knew I was at a crossroads. I knew if I didn’t stop I could lose everything. My pregnant partner, my house, and if I lost that, I knew I’d only end up in even darker places with more severe consequences.
For me, addiction and mental health is something that happens to people. I don’t believe people commit suicide, I believe they die of suicide or die of ill mental health.
My partner still struggles with the idea that my problems were in no way her fault. She thinks she had to have contributed in some way. She didn’t.
It was my lack of self awareness. My inability to effectively communicate. My own stubbornness.
In the eye of the storm, I genuinely believed that what I was doing, the way I was “coping” was the best thing for everyone. That’s what it does to you. It convinces you that ridiculous and horrible things are true. When you’re in that state, you’re susceptible to believing those things.
My goal has never been to never drink again. My initial goal was to be sober for long enough to get to the bottom of why I was behaving this way.
I’ve got a history of mental health conditions/issues and I knew that this was at the core of my issues. The substance abuse was a byproduct of me not coping.
I reached out to some people and told them what was going on. A select few who I thought might understand. I checked in regularly with them and them me.
I threw myself deeper into exercise. Tried to tidy up my diet. Started writing and journaling. I was willing to try anything to sort it out because I truly felt like this was going to be my last chance.
My memory of early sobriety is hazy at best, which is common. I remember though, it was hard. It still is.
These things are constant and unrelenting at times. You don’t “get better”, you get better at managing it and you have to make adjustments as life evolves. It’s something you have to stay on top of or it’ll get on top of you. Something I struggled with in recent times and why I’ve realised I need more help and went to a meeting last night.
I’m truly sorry for your heartbreaking loss, Jane.
I hope this helped and hope that you don’t hesitate to ask more questions if you think I could help any further.
I hope that one day you can get the closure you deserve.
People use to form communities around hobbies. Perhaps it’s better to form them around struggles?
I think just things in common.
Originally, motorcycle clubs were formed around a love of motorcycles.
But maybe you’re right, maybe the emotional depth of the commonality can play a part in the depth of the connection within the community. R4R is a perfect example of that.
Talking about a hobby/interest is superficial but fun.
Helping each other out when we’re struggling...
You’re right, it’s much more meaningful. I feel like the conversations I have with people about sobriety and mental health create a closer connection a lot quicker and they make me feel better too.
I think it depends what the struggle is. For example, I've read that group therapy isn't always great for OCD because having a group of people with OCD results in them talking about their OCD which actually makes their obsessions worse.
I think we just need community in general, with common interests and then there would be a lot less struggling.
Yep. And once upon a time when people actually did shit they enjoyed because houses were places to cook, shower and sleep and not much more, people would meet people with common interests while out and about enjoying said activities.
Also, there were times at the meeting last night where I had vivid flashbacks to some of the nice feelings I would get when using drugs and alcohol. I can definitely see how over-immersing yourself in certain things at certain times can be risky.
I am struggling and really appreciate your posts and honesty
Thanks, Jane. Hopefully I’m helping in some small way. Be sure to reach out if you think me or our group could help.
Perhaps I missed something but can you please go back to when you stopped drinking and the “why” and the “how”
I am coming up to the 2 yr anniversary of losing my partner to suicide and I am still doing my personal research to try to understand this
I’m so sorry that happened, Jane. I can’t imagine how difficult that would be to process.
My sober date is 19/4/22. Almost 21 months ago.
I’d always drank on weekends and used drugs recreationally. Slowly though, as life/work stresses increased I was gradually losing control of my substance use. It was getting out of hand it was starting to control me. It would influence decisions I was making every day. I was starting to prioritise it over the things that mattered to me the most. My family, work, my friends. It got to a point where my favourite way to use substances was alone. I’d sit and wallow in my misery and have drink after drink, line after line, just wanting to be left alone.
At the same time, I was trying to lead a “normal life”. I was good at my job. We were covering the bills. My partner was pregnant. We were excited to be having a baby and moving to the coast.
But I was leading this kind of double life. My drinking wasn’t so much a secret but my drug use was. I was being dishonest and hiding a lot behaviour and money.
Ultimately I just got so tired and I couldn’t do both anymore. Something I had to give. I went on a four-day rampage over Easter while my partner was away with her mum for the weekend. She got home and I was missing. I wasn’t answering my phone or replying to texts.
I got home and she was furious. Not about the state I was in, or the thousands of dollars I’d blown over the last four days, but because I had put her through so much stress. She knew I wasn’t going well and had quite rightly, feared the worst. 6 months pregnant laying up thinking her partner was dead.
I just didn’t have the energy anymore. I couldn’t keep up the facade that everything was ok. I was trying to be a “man”. My stress was mine. So I would deal with it. I didn’t want to bother anyone else. But ultimately, it all got too heavy for me to carry on my own.
I had a break down when I got home. I realised how burnt out I was. Lying to myself that I could have both lives. That I was doing fine. Justifying it because the mortgage was paid and “I wasn’t harming anyone but myself”.
For months I’d woken up on Mondays and dragged my arse to work, paranoid about the drug bus waiting in the car park. Luckily it never happened. I’d tell myself and even my partner “I’m not going this shit anymore, I hate it so much”. I meant every word, every time. But by the following Wednesday or Thursday I’d be feeling half human again, disregard how I felt the previous Monday and be drinking again. By Friday I’d be taking drugs again. The cycle repeated and my partner, understandably, got tired of my weekly, bullshit Monday morning story.
That Tuesday morning at 3:30am I knew I was at a crossroads. I knew if I didn’t stop I could lose everything. My pregnant partner, my house, and if I lost that, I knew I’d only end up in even darker places with more severe consequences.
For me, addiction and mental health is something that happens to people. I don’t believe people commit suicide, I believe they die of suicide or die of ill mental health.
My partner still struggles with the idea that my problems were in no way her fault. She thinks she had to have contributed in some way. She didn’t.
It was my lack of self awareness. My inability to effectively communicate. My own stubbornness.
In the eye of the storm, I genuinely believed that what I was doing, the way I was “coping” was the best thing for everyone. That’s what it does to you. It convinces you that ridiculous and horrible things are true. When you’re in that state, you’re susceptible to believing those things.
My goal has never been to never drink again. My initial goal was to be sober for long enough to get to the bottom of why I was behaving this way.
I’ve got a history of mental health conditions/issues and I knew that this was at the core of my issues. The substance abuse was a byproduct of me not coping.
I reached out to some people and told them what was going on. A select few who I thought might understand. I checked in regularly with them and them me.
I threw myself deeper into exercise. Tried to tidy up my diet. Started writing and journaling. I was willing to try anything to sort it out because I truly felt like this was going to be my last chance.
My memory of early sobriety is hazy at best, which is common. I remember though, it was hard. It still is.
These things are constant and unrelenting at times. You don’t “get better”, you get better at managing it and you have to make adjustments as life evolves. It’s something you have to stay on top of or it’ll get on top of you. Something I struggled with in recent times and why I’ve realised I need more help and went to a meeting last night.
I’m truly sorry for your heartbreaking loss, Jane.
I hope this helped and hope that you don’t hesitate to ask more questions if you think I could help any further.
I hope that one day you can get the closure you deserve.