getting sober the 2nd time
Member
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: New England
Posts: 1,926
Originally Posted by Dee74 
OK, time to re-focus. This is not a thread on AA and success stats. I think there's a mental aspect. If someone with long term sobriety drinks again it really yanks the rug from under your feet. All that old self doubt and self loathing come into play... if you don't think you're worth the fight, or you're convinced that you can't beat this addiction. that makes it really hard to fight back....ask me how I know 
There is a physical side to it too.. http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...lly-again.html I know if I went back to all day everyday drinking I'm not sure my body could handle it now. It's hard to fight when you feel ill and weak but need to drink to stop feeling ill and weak... it's a really vicious cycle - my advice to everyone reading is don't risk it. Dee Moderator SR
There is a physical side to it too.. http://www.soberrecovery.com/forums/...lly-again.html I know if I went back to all day everyday drinking I'm not sure my body could handle it now. It's hard to fight when you feel ill and weak but need to drink to stop feeling ill and weak... it's a really vicious cycle - my advice to everyone reading is don't risk it. Dee Moderator SR***Also, thanks for no deleting my posts. I really needed to get those things out.
Behold the power of NO
Join Date: Jan 2013
Location: WA
Posts: 7,764
This is my second time in recovery (I relapsed after 5 years) and quitting and staying quit was easy for me.
I was out for 6 years and did not even "try" to become sober again until I finally hit that horrible dark pit.
Once I made up my mind to quit, that was it. I didn't blame nothing or no one else for my relapse, I took ownership of my own bs and more importantly I gave recovery 110%.
(including working the steps).
AA welcomed me back and no one made me feel less than or defective for relapsing.
I only found support and acceptance from the folks at my home group.
AA has been great for me.
I was out for 6 years and did not even "try" to become sober again until I finally hit that horrible dark pit.
Once I made up my mind to quit, that was it. I didn't blame nothing or no one else for my relapse, I took ownership of my own bs and more importantly I gave recovery 110%.
(including working the steps).
AA welcomed me back and no one made me feel less than or defective for relapsing.
I only found support and acceptance from the folks at my home group.
AA has been great for me.
Administrator
Join Date: Aug 2003
Location: Dancing in the Light
Posts: 61,492
The Newcomers Forum is a safe and welcoming place for newcomers. Respect is essential. Debates over Recovery Methods are not allowed on the Newcomer's Forum. Posts that violate this rule will be removed without notice. (Support and experience only please.
bona fido dog-lover
Join Date: Mar 2008
Location: SF Bay area, CA
Posts: 99,772
I blew 20 years of sobriety when I started drinking in 2007. Took me nearly two years of trying and relapsing over and over to finally stay sober. (nearly five years sober this time) I don't know why it was so much harder the second time, just know that it was. 
Member
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: New England
Posts: 1,926
Originally Posted by Carlotta
This is my second time in recovery (I relapsed after 5 years) and quitting and staying quit was easy for me. I was out for 6 years and did not even "try" to become sober again until I finally hit that horrible dark pit. Once I made up my mind to quit, that was it. I didn't blame nothing or no one else for my relapse, I took ownership of my own bs and more importantly I gave recovery 110%. (including working the steps). AA welcomed me back and no one made me feel less than or defective for relapsing. I only found support and acceptance from the folks at my home group. AA has been great for me.
Member
Join Date: Apr 2014
Posts: 1,544
[QUOTE=ItsJustMe89;4989795]Just curious.. I hear people say that getting sober the second time is harder then the first. Why is that? If someone gets sober for a period of time and then relapses, what makes it harder to get sober again?
I am still trying to get sober for the first time. I am on day 2. I was just wondering.[/QUOTE
I used to wonder a bit myself, then I said " who cares "
Its like:
Going on a date, and thinking about marriage
Getting married and thinking about divorce
Getting a dog, and wondering if it will run away
Yes, you should think about these things, but you don't need to dwell or have it become a necessity. Think of it as a "Caution"
230 days and going strong
I am still trying to get sober for the first time. I am on day 2. I was just wondering.[/QUOTE
I used to wonder a bit myself, then I said " who cares "
Its like:
Going on a date, and thinking about marriage
Getting married and thinking about divorce
Getting a dog, and wondering if it will run away
Yes, you should think about these things, but you don't need to dwell or have it become a necessity. Think of it as a "Caution"
230 days and going strong
02.27.15 :): ▽VII△VIII
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: California
Posts: 2,802
Your question really intrigued me. This is my second serious try, and I am finding it much harder than the first. I thought and wrote about it all afternoon. Here's what I came up with:
I had seven months sober last year. My relapse took me down when I thought I was at my strongest. I misunderstood what recovery really was. I thought the months of sobriety had made me a better person in ways it couldn’t. I thought it had made me strong enough to drink again and that sobriety alone could fix me. The fall showed me that I will never be normal, and what I thought was strength was really my weakness. Defeated, I let it have me.
My relapse lasted a year, and in that year my drinking accelerated to a level it had never reached before. It bonded to every element of my life and became as familiar as my own body. Untangling it from each moment is a tedious and heartbreaking task. The second time is harder because I am losing so much more. I don’t understand myself without it.
The second time is harder because now I see more of its strength and more of my own weakness. I remember how easily it took me down, and I am humbled by failure. I am told that to fight well, I must know my enemy, but I’ve learned that my enemy has formidable power. I am not sure I’m strong enough to fortify the parts of me that are weak and vulnerable. And these are only just the parts I know. I now see that the task before me is so vast it does not, in fact, have an end.
I try to view my relapse as a learning experience that will help guide me to lasting recovery. I learned, and continue to learn, a great deal from it. This time I understand that sobriety means a lot more than putting a cork in the bottle. It means growth and change. It means facing fears so big I have no idea how high and deep they go. It means building a new, bigger, stronger house from the glowing embers of the one I just burned down. For all the effort and control sobriety requires, it feels like freefall.
It’s harder this time because I know how to fall. The threat of relapse looms like a thunderhead, reminding me of its power. Reminding me of the close darkness of the storm and how it made a home for me inside. Reminding me of how horrible and wonderful it was and could be again. Reminding me that I survived, after all. I could survive again.
But I have something the second time I didn’t have before. I have seven months. Seven months of clear memories and pride and life. I have tasted a freedom so sweet I have crawled out of the warm darkness to find it again. This time I know it’s there.
I had seven months sober last year. My relapse took me down when I thought I was at my strongest. I misunderstood what recovery really was. I thought the months of sobriety had made me a better person in ways it couldn’t. I thought it had made me strong enough to drink again and that sobriety alone could fix me. The fall showed me that I will never be normal, and what I thought was strength was really my weakness. Defeated, I let it have me.
My relapse lasted a year, and in that year my drinking accelerated to a level it had never reached before. It bonded to every element of my life and became as familiar as my own body. Untangling it from each moment is a tedious and heartbreaking task. The second time is harder because I am losing so much more. I don’t understand myself without it.
The second time is harder because now I see more of its strength and more of my own weakness. I remember how easily it took me down, and I am humbled by failure. I am told that to fight well, I must know my enemy, but I’ve learned that my enemy has formidable power. I am not sure I’m strong enough to fortify the parts of me that are weak and vulnerable. And these are only just the parts I know. I now see that the task before me is so vast it does not, in fact, have an end.
I try to view my relapse as a learning experience that will help guide me to lasting recovery. I learned, and continue to learn, a great deal from it. This time I understand that sobriety means a lot more than putting a cork in the bottle. It means growth and change. It means facing fears so big I have no idea how high and deep they go. It means building a new, bigger, stronger house from the glowing embers of the one I just burned down. For all the effort and control sobriety requires, it feels like freefall.
It’s harder this time because I know how to fall. The threat of relapse looms like a thunderhead, reminding me of its power. Reminding me of the close darkness of the storm and how it made a home for me inside. Reminding me of how horrible and wonderful it was and could be again. Reminding me that I survived, after all. I could survive again.
But I have something the second time I didn’t have before. I have seven months. Seven months of clear memories and pride and life. I have tasted a freedom so sweet I have crawled out of the warm darkness to find it again. This time I know it’s there.
Member
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: New England
Posts: 1,926
Originally Posted by Briar
Your question really intrigued me. This is my second serious try, and I am finding it much harder than the first. I thought and wrote about it all afternoon. Here's what I came up with: I had seven months sober last year. My relapse took me down when I thought I was at my strongest. I misunderstood what recovery really was. I thought the months of sobriety had made me a better person in ways it couldn’t. I thought it had made me strong enough to drink again and that sobriety alone could fix me. The fall showed me that I will never be normal, and what I thought was strength was really my weakness. Defeated, I let it have me. My relapse lasted a year, and in that year my drinking accelerated to a level it had never reached before. It bonded to every element of my life and became as familiar as my own body. Untangling it from each moment is a tedious and heartbreaking task. The second time is harder because I am losing so much more. I don’t understand myself without it. The second time is harder because now I see more of its strength and more of my own weakness. I remember how easily it took me down, and I am humbled by failure. I am told that to fight well, I must know my enemy, but I’ve learned that my enemy has formidable power. I am not sure I’m strong enough to fortify the parts of me that are weak and vulnerable. And these are only just the parts I know. I now see that the task before me is so vast it does not, in fact, have an end. I try to view my relapse as a learning experience that will help guide me to lasting recovery. I learned, and continue to learn, a great deal from it. This time I understand that sobriety means a lot more than putting a cork in the bottle. It means growth and change. It means facing fears so big I have no idea how high and deep they go. It means building a new, bigger, stronger house from the glowing embers of the one I just burned down. For all the effort and control sobriety requires, it feels like freefall. It’s harder this time because I know how to fall. The threat of relapse looms like a thunderhead, reminding me of its power. Reminding me of the close darkness of the storm and how it made a home for me inside. Reminding me of how horrible and wonderful it was and could be again. Reminding me that I survived, after all. I could survive again. But I have something the second time I didn’t have before. I have seven months. Seven months of clear memories and pride and life. I have tasted a freedom so sweet I have crawled out of the warm darkness to find it again. This time I know it’s there.
02.27.15 :): ▽VII△VIII
Join Date: Mar 2013
Location: California
Posts: 2,802
So...I just want to clarify that I'm not saying there's any universal truth to the second time is harder theory, I've just found that it has been harder for me personally and I wanted to express why that is. I will retreat to my corner now.
now's the time
Join Date: Feb 2013
Posts: 2,181
Briar, you and I have really similar stories! I was sober for 8 months in 2013 — February 14th to late October — and was on an up and down patterned relapse for a year until coming up on 3 weeks ago.
I guess we make good test subjects because while I relate to/understand exactly what you're talking about, my experience has been that the second time has been much easier so far.
Of course I can't speak to how it will be in terms of maintaining for the long run. But for right now, I feel confident and strong in a way that I never did my first time around.
I think there are a lot of reasons for this. First of all, while I did experience kindling — my withdrawal this time included some mild DTs, I realize now — in general my health was far less depleted than round 1, so after a few days I was already feeling healthy and energized. Last time I was physically wrecked for a full month.
More importantly though, last time it was like my entire life existed prior to February 14th, 2013, and everything after it was this strange, separate, unknown zone. I had no idea what to expect and I felt disconnected from everything I knew.
I guess that going back to drinking and then emerging again makes me feel like I've really canvassed the problem, looked at it from all angles, checked the foundations, knocked on the walls, what have you. I'm not taking it on speculation anymore. I know what long-time drinking feels like. I know what relapsing feels like. I know what forcing myself to moderate feels like. I know what sobriety feels like. I know what getting bored to tears with sobriety feels like, too. And I can put all of these things up against one another and say yeah, sobriety is the right choice, even when I hate it, because I hate drinking more.
Is that going to stick enough to keep me sober long term? I don't know. I hope so. But I do know that at less than a month in, being sober is already starting to feel *normal*. That took me at least 4 - 5 months last time. I could even argue that it never really happened last time.
I'm a very curious person, and I'm also a very stubbornly anti-authority person. I am a "question everything" type. I didn't think of it this way at the time — during my relapse I just felt like a failure in regards to drinking — but now that I look at the last year and 3/4s I can see that the relapse was a very important part of my recovery, just because of my personality. It was very "me" to have to find out for myself that being able to stay sober didn't mean that I would be able to moderate. Now I know and I feel really settled in that knowledge.
Sorry for writing a book here but this topic is super interesting! Just goes to show that even though there are so many universalities to addiction and recovery, there's so much individuality as well...
I guess we make good test subjects because while I relate to/understand exactly what you're talking about, my experience has been that the second time has been much easier so far.
Of course I can't speak to how it will be in terms of maintaining for the long run. But for right now, I feel confident and strong in a way that I never did my first time around.
I think there are a lot of reasons for this. First of all, while I did experience kindling — my withdrawal this time included some mild DTs, I realize now — in general my health was far less depleted than round 1, so after a few days I was already feeling healthy and energized. Last time I was physically wrecked for a full month.
More importantly though, last time it was like my entire life existed prior to February 14th, 2013, and everything after it was this strange, separate, unknown zone. I had no idea what to expect and I felt disconnected from everything I knew.
I guess that going back to drinking and then emerging again makes me feel like I've really canvassed the problem, looked at it from all angles, checked the foundations, knocked on the walls, what have you. I'm not taking it on speculation anymore. I know what long-time drinking feels like. I know what relapsing feels like. I know what forcing myself to moderate feels like. I know what sobriety feels like. I know what getting bored to tears with sobriety feels like, too. And I can put all of these things up against one another and say yeah, sobriety is the right choice, even when I hate it, because I hate drinking more.
Is that going to stick enough to keep me sober long term? I don't know. I hope so. But I do know that at less than a month in, being sober is already starting to feel *normal*. That took me at least 4 - 5 months last time. I could even argue that it never really happened last time.
I'm a very curious person, and I'm also a very stubbornly anti-authority person. I am a "question everything" type. I didn't think of it this way at the time — during my relapse I just felt like a failure in regards to drinking — but now that I look at the last year and 3/4s I can see that the relapse was a very important part of my recovery, just because of my personality. It was very "me" to have to find out for myself that being able to stay sober didn't mean that I would be able to moderate. Now I know and I feel really settled in that knowledge.
Sorry for writing a book here but this topic is super interesting! Just goes to show that even though there are so many universalities to addiction and recovery, there's so much individuality as well...
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2014
Location: Jacksonville FL
Posts: 164
Thanks for everyone's feedback. It makes a lot more sense why the second sobriety is said to be harder then then the first. And I learned about kindling and the progression of the disease and why alcoholics can never safely drink again. I'm glad I asked the question.
Member
Join Date: Aug 2008
Location: New England
Posts: 1,926
Originally Posted by ItsJustMe89
Thanks for everyone's feedback. It makes a lot more sense why the second sobriety is said to be harder then then the first. And I learned about kindling and the progression of the disease and why alcoholics can never safely drink again. I'm glad I asked the question.
I'm not quite sure why I decided to "experiment" again this last year but it definitely wasn't very fun now I have something to compare to. The difference in how I felt while sober for many years and drinking this last year are night and day! And I wasn't even a daily drinker! I'm sure it will progress to that if I were to continue to drink though.
Bottom line.....out of 100 things...there are 99 things I CAN do and 1 thing I can't (or don't want to)....drink! I'm at a point now where I don't say "I can't drink." I'm at a point now where I say "I don't WANT to drink...I want to be happy, sober and free!" And THAT is the "silver lining" for me in my relapse. I'm on my way!!!
Good luck to you & keep posting!
Member
Join Date: Feb 2014
Location: East Coast USA
Posts: 120,867
Originally Posted by Briar
Your question really intrigued me. This is my second serious try, and I am finding it much harder than the first. I thought and wrote about it all afternoon. Here's what I came up with:
I had seven months sober last year. My relapse took me down when I thought I was at my strongest. I misunderstood what recovery really was. I thought the months of sobriety had made me a better person in ways it couldn’t. I thought it had made me strong enough to drink again and that sobriety alone could fix me. The fall showed me that I will never be normal, and what I thought was strength was really my weakness. Defeated, I let it have me.
My relapse lasted a year, and in that year my drinking accelerated to a level it had never reached before. It bonded to every element of my life and became as familiar as my own body. Untangling it from each moment is a tedious and heartbreaking task. The second time is harder because I am losing so much more. I don’t understand myself without it.
The second time is harder because now I see more of its strength and more of my own weakness. I remember how easily it took me down, and I am humbled by failure. I am told that to fight well, I must know my enemy, but I’ve learned that my enemy has formidable power. I am not sure I’m strong enough to fortify the parts of me that are weak and vulnerable. And these are only just the parts I know. I now see that the task before me is so vast it does not, in fact, have an end.
I try to view my relapse as a learning experience that will help guide me to lasting recovery. I learned, and continue to learn, a great deal from it. This time I understand that sobriety means a lot more than putting a cork in the bottle. It means growth and change. It means facing fears so big I have no idea how high and deep they go. It means building a new, bigger, stronger house from the glowing embers of the one I just burned down. For all the effort and control sobriety requires, it feels like freefall.
It’s harder this time because I know how to fall. The threat of relapse looms like a thunderhead, reminding me of its power. Reminding me of the close darkness of the storm and how it made a home for me inside. Reminding me of how horrible and wonderful it was and could be again. Reminding me that I survived, after all. I could survive again.
But I have something the second time I didn’t have before. I have seven months. Seven months of clear memories and pride and life. I have tasted a freedom so sweet I have crawled out of the warm darkness to find it again. This time I know it’s there.
I had seven months sober last year. My relapse took me down when I thought I was at my strongest. I misunderstood what recovery really was. I thought the months of sobriety had made me a better person in ways it couldn’t. I thought it had made me strong enough to drink again and that sobriety alone could fix me. The fall showed me that I will never be normal, and what I thought was strength was really my weakness. Defeated, I let it have me.
My relapse lasted a year, and in that year my drinking accelerated to a level it had never reached before. It bonded to every element of my life and became as familiar as my own body. Untangling it from each moment is a tedious and heartbreaking task. The second time is harder because I am losing so much more. I don’t understand myself without it.
The second time is harder because now I see more of its strength and more of my own weakness. I remember how easily it took me down, and I am humbled by failure. I am told that to fight well, I must know my enemy, but I’ve learned that my enemy has formidable power. I am not sure I’m strong enough to fortify the parts of me that are weak and vulnerable. And these are only just the parts I know. I now see that the task before me is so vast it does not, in fact, have an end.
I try to view my relapse as a learning experience that will help guide me to lasting recovery. I learned, and continue to learn, a great deal from it. This time I understand that sobriety means a lot more than putting a cork in the bottle. It means growth and change. It means facing fears so big I have no idea how high and deep they go. It means building a new, bigger, stronger house from the glowing embers of the one I just burned down. For all the effort and control sobriety requires, it feels like freefall.
It’s harder this time because I know how to fall. The threat of relapse looms like a thunderhead, reminding me of its power. Reminding me of the close darkness of the storm and how it made a home for me inside. Reminding me of how horrible and wonderful it was and could be again. Reminding me that I survived, after all. I could survive again.
But I have something the second time I didn’t have before. I have seven months. Seven months of clear memories and pride and life. I have tasted a freedom so sweet I have crawled out of the warm darkness to find it again. This time I know it’s there.
Currently Active Users Viewing this Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
