Sober

Yesterday marks two years of sobriety from alcohol for me. I want to talk about my journey to sobriety and why I think openly discussing this vulnerable topic is important and valuable.

Even before the pandemic, substance abuse among lawyers was becoming a growing concern. A 2016 study by “the ABA Commission on Lawyer Assistance Programs and the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation showed that nearly 21% of lawyers and others in legal professions were considered problem drinkers. As more specific questions were relayed to the surveyed participants, that number jumped even higher to over 36% of attorneys struggling with alcohol abuse.”

Unfortunately, those statistics have become more concerning during the pandemic. According to the article “Stress, drink, leave: An examination of gender-specific risk factors for mental health problems and attrition among licensed attorneys,” published in the National Library of Medicine found that nearly one in three lawyers started drinking more over the past 18 months. Broken down by gender, 34 percent of female lawyers and 29 percent of male lawyers reported their drinking increased. Women who reported an increase were seven times more likely to engage in risky drinking, and the men were nearly four times more likely.

I remember when I first started to talk about my problem drinking, a number of very caring, well-meaning colleagues advised me not to share about this struggle. They were concerned that this could give a disgruntled client ammunition to file a bar complaint against me. They suggested that it may negatively affect my reputation in the community. And they weren’t necessarily wrong.

But I had to ask myself, “what’s the cost of silence?”

I became a life coach for attorneys because I believe in what we do. I still have a very idealistic image of the lawyer fighting for justice. I believe that the vast majority of my colleagues believe this too. But I also know that the old school profession and practice of law is unsustainable in our modern world. Lawyers need support. But more than anything, they need to know that they are not alone.

Isolation kills. Silence is deadly.

It’s not just the rate of substance abuse that concerns me. It’s also the rate of anxiety, depression, and suicide for attorneys.

Here’s my story.

I had an image of what I thought an alcoholic was. What they look like, red-faced and needing a drink just to function in the morning. I even used labels like “alcoholic” that made it very serious business. I know I said things like “I’m not an alcoholic, I just really enjoy drinking.” I recognized myself as a heavy drinker, but I didn’t really see this as a problem because it was so normal.

I’ll never forget the first time I went to a networking event in my city. We were asked to talk about our hobbies. I bounced up and introduced myself and proudly declared that happy hour was my hobby. I thought I was so cool and fun. Well, it was not cool. It was not fun. My life was miserable.

I remember the person I was like she was an old friend. It’s almost like an out of body experience to try to envision myself back there.

I drank to deal with the stress of running my practice and the burden of believing my clients’ lives were in my hand. I drank to lubricate my social anxiety. I drank because I believed I deserved the chance to unwind and relax. I drank so I wouldn’t have to feel all the negative emotions I had been avoiding for years.

Eventually my drinking started to get out of control. I would drink in the evenings and stay up late and have restless sleep. I would wake up hungover, groggy. I was less productive at work because I was tired, foggy, and slow. To make up for this, I had to work more hours. I felt guilty for not being home with my daughter. I was more stressed. So I’d come home and drink to avoid those feelings, and the cycle would repeat.

I had tried moderation, but one drink seemed pointless and two drinks wore down my willpower.

I even stopped drinking for six months, but I convinced myself that if could stop drinking for six months, I clearly didn’t have a problem. I wanted to be able to enjoy a glass of wine with dinner, participate in a whiskey tasting, or enjoy cocktails on the beach. I was afraid of missing out on the fun. But I quickly discovered that a glass of wine at dinner became a bottle of wine at dinner. Frankly, I was unable to moderate.

This came to a head two years ago when I had to decide whether I was going to continue to allow alcohol to suck the joy out of my life or I was going to forge a new path.

I was so afraid. I was scared I wouldn’t have fun anymore. I was afraid I wouldn’t be fun. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to be in social situations around alcohol. I was afraid I would stop being invited to events. I was afraid I would be judged for not drinking.

But something else scared me more. I was terrified that if I continued to drink my life would be over. I was afraid I would lose my family, my practice, my license and quite possibly my life.

I chose life.

And it hasn’t been easy. I wish I could say that people didn’t judge me. They do. But I don’t judge myself. I am not ashamed to say that an intoxicating substance intoxicates me. Also, it turns out I’m a lot more fun sober than when I’m wasted. I am saving so much money. My friends support me, and I am happy to be the designated driver.

Sometimes I get wistful and wish I could do a wine tasting or have a glass of champagne to celebrate. But I remind myself that I know exactly what wine tastes like. I remember the tart champagne bubbles tickle my tongue. I also remember the falling down, the drama, the hangovers, and the regret for what I may have said or done the night before.

I’m able to smile and say “I’ve had enough.” I’ve had enough alcohol to last a lifetime. I don’t need any more.

I have experienced life on the other side, and it is so much more fulfilling. It’s not easy be any means, but I promise you that it is so much easier than navigating my way drunk or hungover.

I hope that by speaking about this, I can take a little bit of the stigma and shame out of overdrinking. I hope that if you are struggling that you know you are not alone. And for those of you who don’t struggle with alcohol abuse, you can gain a little bit of insight into what it’s like for those of us who do.

When we communicate authentically about hard, vulnerable things, we foster connection, compassion, and understanding.

Shame cannot survive in the light.

If you are someone you know is struggling with substance abuse issues, help is available. If you are in Florida, free and confidential help is available at Florida Lawyers Assistance 954-566-9040. If you are not in Florida, most state bars offer similar programs. I am always willing to help you find assistance. You can email me at Laura@thejoyfulattorney.com

Thank you so much for listening to my story.

Until next time, Stay joyful,

Laura