A panic room is a small room that is intended to keep you safe from harm whether it’s weather or intruders. It is meant to give you the sense of safety and comfort, that not anyone or anything can hurt or harm you. Drinking alcohol is like being in a panic room.  While you are in this room feeling safe and secure, eventually you will have to leave. When you leave, you are then bombarded with the reality that you are faced with whatever you were trying to escape from.

Let me go back to 2016. This is when I purchased my first sobriety book Sober is the New Black by Rachel Black. I had dabbled in thoughts and curiosity of sobriety, but just like many people the social norm is to drink, in some cases binge drink during any social setting or just in plain boredom. There are always jokes and stories surrounded by drinking escapades and fond memories; which many I would never take back just because they were so great and so fun. But as I got older I felt like I was robbing myself of my life. So I started researching and googling things such as: Do I drink too much? Why do I drink? And I came across different blogs regarding sober curiosity and sober living. So for four years without really even telling anyone, not even my husband, family or friends. I just wasn’t sure if I was willing to give it up.

I’ve always been the outgoing party girl. Dancing, loud laughing, talking and doing crazy shit. And in all honesty, I loved being that way because when I wasn’t I was more introverted, quiet and self-conscious. I feel that is a part of me not many people have gotten to know. So I was scared to let go and just let me be me. Also, it just was a lot more fun to drink and have a good time, not feel and just live in the moment. NOTE: I am still fun: who knew?

The problem was I was getting older and I noticed obvious changes. The endless cycle of having drinks, feeling like shit for a few day’s; then once I felt great: Hey let’s do it again! Allowing toxic people in my life. Making mistakes that hurt myself; physically or mentally or others I cared for. It would get in the way of my daily activities, work or things I wanted to do that I never ended up doing. The endless promises to say I was going to do things and never do them. And my kids. I wanted to give them my best self and I wasn’t able to do that and that is probably the hardest thing to admit during this process. I tear up thinking about this, because in some ways I feel I have failed them.

So I surrendered. I busted down that panic room door and I never looked back.