Dealing With Depression in Sobriety

Oct 19

I’ve suffered from depression my entire life and as an adult I abused alcohol to cope with it. The fear of talking about my depression to others was as terrifying as exposing myself as a problem drinker to the world. I saw it as a weakness in others so I denied its existence in myself. That denial became a mask – a suit of armor to protect myself. I wore a mask because I was afraid of what others thought about me. I thought they could see within me everything I saw in myself so that mask worked both ways; to protect me from them and to protect me from myself. There are so many aspects to this “mask” subject that I could probably babble on about it aimlessly for hours, so I will attempt to draw a line to the subject of depression in sobriety as I see it.

Depression in Sobriety

Alcoholism is a disease of isolation. I’ve heard that sentence spoken by many fellow alcoholics who have a lot more time in sobriety than I do. I realize now they are right. Of course, depression is also a disease, or at least an affliction, caused by isolation. And since childhood I have had the urge to isolate. That urge is still with me today. One of my favorite literary passages regarding isolation is from “The Crossing” By Cormac McCarthy and it goes as such:

“He said that the world could only be known as it existed in men’s hearts. For while it seemed a place which contained men it was in reality a place contained within them and therefore to know it one must look there and come to know those hearts and to do this one must live with men and not simply pass among them.”

This passage was spoken by a wise native of Mexico to Billy Parham, the lead character of the novel. Those words are prophetic to Billy’s story; a young man who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Billy holds onto guilt and shame in his heart. He can’t seem to find a place where he belongs that doesn’t eventually remind him of his pain, so he never settles down.

My Battle with Depression in Sobriety

I first read the book when I was in my late 20’s at the height of my destructive relationship with alcohol. His story devastated me. I saw myself within the pages but I couldn’t verbalize exactly why and at the time I never stood still long enough to try. Years upon years later when I finally gave sobriety a try, 175 days ago, it is only now starting to come into focus.

Not long after my 90 day mark of sobriety, I fell into a deep hole. I had known depression before but could disassociate as a child and drank heavily as an adult, so I never faced it. It had always been there but muted somehow. If I wasn’t busy getting drunk then I was busy nursing the hangover. Without my medicine, depression was finally upon me and it was as dark and empty as I had remembered. I thought about drinking every day and I was close to relapse. By this point I had been heavily involved in a 12 step program and had, for the first time in years, been part of something that involved other people. I was a part of something bigger than myself.

Masking my Shame

I made it a point in these meetings to let people peek behind the mask I had worn. Finally, I too was getting to look at it. I did not like what I saw. What I saw was a failure and a liar. I saw a man crippled in shame that was so unlike what I’d wanted to be that is was painful to wear his skin. All I wanted to do was hide, but I didn’t. I kept going back to meetings even though I felt exposed. But I also kept lying. I didn’t lie about who I was, but I was lying about who I was being in the meetings. The whole act of pretending I was fine was a performance for others in the group – I felt they needed to hear that from me.

I was wearing the old mask again and hiding the fact that I was severely depressed; close to relapse. I would go to these meetings, “perform” a share and then go home feeling like a fraud. It took me a long while to even understand I was doing it. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It got to the point where I couldn’t hide the pain and I was angry so I let it out in a meeting one day. I left the pain on the floor of a room full of other alcoholics.

Tired of Performing

I told them I was not doing alright and that I was sick of pretending. The silence in the room was palpable. As I was sharing it, for a moment, I was standing outside of myself. You could hear a pin drop. The pain that I had been carrying with me was now in the air and everyone knew it.

I felt ashamed when I’d finished, but I also felt lighter. However, this shame was different to the shame I was used to. I didn’t have the urge to run. I mean, I felt like getting the hell out of there, but this shame was a little easier to sit with. In the coming days I sat with it more. I came to understand that it was not going to kill me. No one was going to hammer me to a cross or tie me up to a post and burn it. I eventually came to understand that depression was a part of my story – that I cannot be someone who is not depressed. I am an alcoholic and I suffer from depression and I have to live with that; to deal with it.

Learning to Live with Depression in Sobriety

The best thing that came out of those few weeks is that I learned I could deal with it. I could sit with myself without putting on a mask for myself and everyone around me. The pain eventually lifted. I made it through without drinking and I did it by opening myself to others and therefore myself. And as I sit here, feeling a little down, I am starting to realize I am only a human being on this planet and not the biggest piece of shit ever created. I have problems. You have problems. We all have problems and while there are people with evil intentions for the world, I am not one of them. I am far from perfect but I am not satan incarnate. I don’t need to wear a mask, I just need to be me.