Life Unchained: A Deep Dive on Sobriety

I choose a life of sobriety with my eyes wide open. There are no doctor’s orders, court orders, or family intervention forcing me to abstain from alcohol or any other substances.

There’s half a liter of vodka gathering dust above my refrigerator right now. I could pop the cap on it, guzzle it down, and no one would give a damn except the man in the mirror and probably my kid.

I don’t go to AA meetings; no one has ever told me they’re proud of me for being sober. As a man who prioritizes emotional sovereignty, there is no form of external validation compelling me to abstain from alcohol.

Hell, some people would like me better if I did go back to getting drunk on the weekends.

"So, why did I choose sobriety?

Why do I passionately support people who choose the same path?

How did I stare down the death of both my parents along with the slings and arrows of life’s outrageous misfortunes, without so much as putting a tempted finger on that vodka bottle?

To understand that we’re going to have to take an unchained deep dive into the sobriety journey, and the difference between white knuckling, staying sober, and mining down to the original wound within.

Is Sobriety Worth it?

Of course, I have to say that sobriety is worth it. If I say anything else, an army of addiction therapists will crap in their hands and throw it at me like an enraged ape. But it’s also very hard, especially in the early days, and even more so if you have a lot of emotional wreckage from it.

Now I’m guessing this isn’t the first sobriety article you’ve clicked on. So, you don’t need me telling you about how quitting improves your skin and liver health. I’m not going to put a bunch of repetitive content here to stroke Google’s algorithmic erection.

You know the benefits of sobriety. You don’t need me giving you a checklist or listicle about it.

 

Disclaimer

Now, to keep you from suing me, I’m going to come right out and tell you that what you’re about to read is from my own life experience. If anything, I say contradicts what your therapist tells you, always do what your therapist says.

White Knuckling Sobriety

In the early weeks of white-knuckling sobriety, your brain is basically in a tug-of-war between impulse and control. You’ve likely spent years wiring your brain to seek the numbing aspect of substance abuse, and the amygdala wants relief.

It’s used to getting a fast answer when stress, boredom, or pain shows up. Except now your prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for discipline and decision-making, has to step in and say “No.” Over and over again. This is why the mantra of “Take it one day at a time” is so effective. It’s rightfully rewarding the repetition of “No.”

It’s also why early sobriety feels so exhausting. You’re not at peace. You’re actively overriding yourself, moment by moment, thought by thought, one day at a time.

If you stay in that mode long-term, it becomes a different kind of strain. You’re no longer in constant crisis, but the underlying wiring hasn’t changed. The urges might quiet down, but they don’t fully go away. They just sit there, waiting for the right combination of stress, fatigue, or emotional hit.

You can function, even thrive, on the surface, but there’s often a tightness underneath it all. A sense that you’re managing something rather than resolving it. I’ve watched people white-knuckle it for years and then relapse out of nowhere.

So, from where I sit, white-knuckling sobriety is the natural starting point, and therapy absolutely increases your odds of maintaining your sobriety. Yet on a long enough timeline, white knuckling alone isn’t truly healing.

Mining Down to the Original Wound

I’m going to say something controversial here, but in my experience, white knuckling sobriety can become a form of suffering. The cessation of quitting is absolutely key, but the monster of the original wound that caused the “Problem” still lurks within. All the while waiting for its chance to make an absolute mess of your life all over again.

There comes a certain point where, to completely heal, you need to mine down to the original wound. I’m not going to lie, this phase of it is very hard. It’s one of the top five hardest things I’ve ever done.

I was sort of forced into it, after watching my father’s horrific death firsthand. That level of grief with no numbing agent on board took me from the white-knuckling at the edge of the cliff to deep diving full-on into my own abyss.

In my case, my original wound was an attachment wound connected to my father coming in and out of my life. I found ways to medicate it with teenage angst, falling in love with the wrong girls. When those relationships ended, I started self-medicating with alcohol as the one love affair that wouldn’t leave me.  

Now my father’s clock ran out before we could finish our story. That left me with a choice: I could use the bottle to keep the “Incomplete” sign hanging in my heart, or I could use sobriety to write a new chapter for my life.  As a natural-born writer, I chose authorship of my story.

Tracking the Wound Back to Its Source

The blood trail of the original wound is different for each of us. So, only you can track yours down, and a therapist is a great guide to help you find it.  

In my own experience, I’ve known a lot of alcoholics and addicts. I’m the sort of dude that people love having deep conversations with. Over the years, I’ve noticed some familiar trends that might help you and your therapist trace your original wound back to its source.

A lot of times, the root of the problem in childhood. It might be a narcissistic parent who sets impossibly high standards, which tear down the child’s sense of self-worth. It might be an absentee father who is hot and cold with affection, leaving a child feeling like love is something beyond their control.

Sometimes, the original wound is caused by parents strongly prioritizing one child over another. Especially if those two children are close in age. Then there’s a whole smorgasbord of physical and emotional abuse handed down through the chains of generational trauma.

In the early years, the child finds ways to get the attention and validation they need, or they find ways to withdraw and hide from the potential pain the caregiver might inflict on them.

A child who can’t get positive attention from their parents might start acting out in school, because at least that gets them negative attention. For some kids, it's thrill-seeking and dangerous behavior that gives them a dopamine rush in the moment that they continue to chase.

For others, it's strict adherence to the rules, pulling straight As, and chasing success until their parent finally gives them validation. In the case of an abusive parent, chasing the grades is the only way to stay safe.

The nuts-and-bolts details in all these scenarios are different. Yet there's one common theme hiding in all of them.

The child feels out of control when it comes to love, physical, or emotional safety. So, they eventually find a behavior that gives them some semblance of feeling like they’re in control.

Then, as they get into their teenage and young adult years, they gain access to substances like drugs and alcohol. These are things that mimic that same sense of control over how they feel or give them the ability to numb the pain that's been haunting them for years. 

This is your classic kid who was a straight-A student until junior or senior year of high school. Then they start getting drunk or high, and the substance gets blamed. The overachieving teenager didn't just 'start' drinking. They pivoted a high-exhaustion form of validation, like getting good grades, for a low-effort numbing from vodka or a tightly packed bong.

It’s a bad trade, but to a tired kid, it looks like a shortcut to peace. These substances usually get introduced to the equation in late teenage and early adult years. This allows the kid to pull away from their parents and be free enough to not “Self-Medicate” without being seen. Give it enough time, and the pattern of addiction becomes ingrained.

Now these are just generalizations. I’ve seen these patterns play out in people I care about, and if I’m being honest, I’ve seen pieces of these in myself, too. The original wounds within are as unique as the person. Often, multiple issues overlap in ways that only a therapist can help you unravel after years of honest work in therapy.

What Healing Looks & Feels Like

Mining down to the original wound takes an enormous amount of emotional courage. This isn’t just crying when you show up at therapy. It’s facing an identity level wound that has been emotionally bleeding inside you for years, if not decades.

What do you need to make the journey to heal the original wound?

A good therapist should be at the top of the list. Particularly, one who is licensed in clinical mental health or social work. Specific experience treating substance use disorders and trauma, such as an LCSW, LMFT, LPC, or psychologist with addiction specialization.

A therapist who uses evidence-based approaches like CBT, DBT, Motivational Interviewing, and trauma-focused therapies such as EMDR, Internal Family Systems (IFS), or Somatic Experiencing is ideal.

A lot of times, addiction patterns can also be traced back to some degree to attachment wounds from early childhood. So, a therapist with a strong background in attachment theory and developmental trauma is helpful. Ideally, you want them to understand how early caregiver relationships shape nervous system regulation, emotional safety, and self-soothing patterns.

A shared support system is also helpful. This is where group therapy and things like AA or NA are very handy. These are people who are going through the same things you are, and they give you someone to relate to. You’re all typically at different places in your sobriety journey, and the shared insights can spark inspiration that helps you mine a little deeper along the way.

You also need patience and to give yourself grace. Healing the original wound doesn’t happen overnight. You’re going to face setbacks, you’re going to confront demons, and you’re going to have times when you just want to give up and go back to white knuckling it.

Some people honestly choose that path. Some people mine a little bit down, struggle to face the hurt, and pull back to simply white-knuckle it for years, until they’re ready to try again. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Yet I can tell you as someone who has mined all the way down. Who stitched it up to stop the bleeding. As someone who learned to love himself and others authentically, it is absolutely worth every moment of discomfort you will face along the way.

To be able to live your life without any of the old demons on the inside is truly a blessing. And I go to bed every night, saying a little prayer for each and every one of you who are trying to find your way.

If you want to go deeper into Life Unchained you can follow along at Eric Beuning’s Author Page. I’ll be building it piece by piece.