Sobriety Milestones

I have been performing regularly, semi-professionally for 10 years. Last night I played my first show sober, ever.

This is kind of tough and a little embarrassing to admit because, like many people who have a problem with alcohol, I didn’t think I had a problem with alcohol.

When I was in high school, before every audition, I would shake like the dickens and break out in hives. Being autistic with PTSD from abuse, and being mercilessly bullied causes this impulse to want to be invisible. Being a musician causes this impulse of wanting to be seen. My life has been one long journey of confronting my intense stage fright.

I trained for a year to be able to make it through my college audition, and I got in. And then was forced into the immersion therapy of needing to perform in front of people multiple times a semester. Eventually I did stop shaking! But the nerves were still there.

When I started my first band (a rock n soul cover duo), our whole shtick was being kind of silly and being lushes and not always playing perfectly. It was glorious. It was so fun—both to escape the perfection of classical music, and to learn how enjoyable playing music could really be. I was always drunk on stage. Always drunker after our set was over.

My next band played out a lot more, as we released an album of originals, and free drinks were part of the deal. I’d usually have my two drinks before we even got onstage. Afterwards, people would buy me more. I clung onto my buzz for many reasons—the stage fright, the social anxiety, the over-stimulation of trying to make conversation in a loud bar, the being seen, the critical thoughts in my own head of myself, and the critical sentiments expressed by some of my harshest loved ones (everything was fair game, my weight, my intonation, my performance, my dance moves, my banter, my mic levels, how the rest of the band played). It was too much.

Burlesque was a similar story—except different. I wasn’t as nervous with burlesque. I was kind of living, actually. I have always loved dancing and I’d wanted to be a stripper for as long as I remember. Longer than you would think, considering the pervasive belief that no one dreams of doing sex work. I was practicing twerking and floor work in my bedroom in middle school. But it was such a party atmosphere!! And you got free drink tickets! And when I finished mine, sometimes my friend who didn’t like to drink as much as me would give me hers. I would save the bulk of my imbibing for after my routines were done, but I would always be nice and toasted by the end of the show—ready to schmooze and socialize and take photos with audience members who were just a liiiittle too handsy.

After I quit burlesque and started busking, I quit drinking. I quit for 6 solid months and it was really nice. It was really, really nice. I felt clear-headed and healthy. I felt happy and healing and whole. I felt soooo good waking up not hungover every single day. I hadn’t gone more than a couple weeks without a hangover since I was 19 (I was now 27). But then, I started again.

After I moved to new york, there were more performance opportunities, more shows, more busking. One night, I was busking in the subway and a teen handed me a PBR tall boy as a tip! This city is WILD, honey!! I was definitely more moderate with my drinking, but there were still boughts of over-indulgence. And I still, never ever performed perfectly sober.

My other vice is weed. I smoke weed, I will probably always indulge a little, because, well, it’s fucking great. I love being stoned. But for a good 7 years there I was blaaazed out of my mind. I was smoking an 8th like every four days or so. I was withdrawn, lethargic, unfocused, and depressed. I was coping with some very difficult and very triggering life events that I didn’t want to deal with yet. Avoidance is a beautiful tool for procrastination.

So even if I wasn’t drunk, I was stoned AF. And if I couldn’t smoke, I would pop an edible.

Since covid, since I moved in with my partner in August of 2020, I went from having at least one drink a day, to hardly ever drinking. It has been a slow process, a pretty effortless process—something that just… kind of occurred.

There’s this truth expressed in healing spaces (whether it be CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) or spiritual healing or recovering from eating disorders) that you can’t just take something away, you have to replace it… you have to fill the space. If you’re quitting smoking, a lollipop can help curb the addiction to the physical act. If you have a negative thought spiral, catching it, stopping it, and replacing it with the kinder truth, or a loving thought is the key to getting yourself out of the spiral.

My one drink a day was replaced by healthy, mutual emotional processing. Support. Reciprocal love. Presence. Laughter. Time in nature. Delicious meals. Stability. Love. Being loved. And the urge or the need to drink just… evaporated. I stopped smoking as much, too. My stash started lasting months instead of weeks. I wasn’t feeling as anxious or overstimulated on a daily basis. I reached a new level of healing. Honestly, it’s one I don’t think I could have reached on my own. I needed community.

So when I booked this show over a month ago, my first since February 2020, I was understandably nervous. I fretted and worried. I had nightmares about it. I was most worried that, though I really wanted to be sober for it, that I would chicken out and not be able to do it and I was afraid of what that would mean about my healing. It’s easy to be at peace on a mountain top, not so in the middle of a city. Could I really socialize without it??

I am happy, and very proud to report that I did it!! I did it!! I was so nervous, my hands were shaking and I fucked up a bunch lol. It was a good performance, but it was a nervous one. I felt every little bit of my fear, which is what I think I was avoiding by being tipsy during every performance for the past 10 years. I heard every murmur of conversation in the audience. I felt every mistake and wrong note and chord. I felt disorientingly clear-headed. Agonizingly present. It was wonderful. To remember every moment so clearly???? WOW. What a gift.

I am a hedonist. I do love to indulge. I am not the kind of person that abstinence works for. I’m a Libra, I need moderation. But I think, from now on, I will always play sober.