I was an anxious kid.

Instagram: @sober_on_the_road

I loved alcohol. Beer specifically. I was an anxious kid. In my head, I was bright, funny, curious, a great athlete. To the world at large, I was physically very small (and puberty made me wait, and wait, and wait…) and quiet. We moved A LOT as a kid, and it was always a struggle to fit in as something other than a puny book nerd.

At age 17 I took the plunge. The first (and second, and third…) beer changed my world.

It was the anxiety medication I didn’t know I had been waiting for. I suddenly was well liked, funny, and recognized. Suddenly picked for teams early and often. And I could, all 88 lbs of me, tolerate an astonishing volume of beer without losing my mind or getting sick.

Paul Sheffer Sober Date 6/15/1991 

Here’s the foreshadowing bit— my relationship with alcohol had been both typical and problematic from my first beer—I never had a single beer or drink. Ever, from go. It was not unlike what I witnessed around me, both family and friends drinking in very much the same way, and it wasn’t visibly impacting my studies, and later, my employment. And my identity was rapidly tied up with beer.

This was how I drank for pretty much a decade—through college, a year studying in Italy, a second year in Italy post grad working as a laborer for a construction guy who just wanted to talk Bob Dylan and Jerry Garcia — a task I was born to do! Learned to love wine.

Back home, I was working my way up from dishwasher to Executive Chef, my path was lit, and littered with alcohol and drugs of all sorts, All manageable.

Until the confluence of 2 events—hired into a pressure cooker job as Exec Sous Chef at a NYC hotel, placed in between Management and Union, tasked with making culinary operations happen. 

And I got sick.

Exhausted all the time, swelling joints, excruciating headaches, rapid weight loss and constant pain, coupled with the pressure of the job—I turned to the easy medication of alcohol. It’s everywhere in a hotel operation. Everywhere. But beer wasn’t going to do it, I eased into vodka’s waiting arms. And she had me before I could reconsider.

I was suffering with undiagnosed advanced Lyme Disease. But I was determined to fight through this unknown (the medical community didn’t have a clue—thought it was AIDS, threw up their hands and shrugged) illness, all the while needing more vodka to function. On the train into NYC. On the train home. At room service. In my room at the hotel. Even in the union cooks locker room. On the walk home from the train station. In the garage and basement.

I was addicted. And I knew it. Deep down, I knew it. 

And yet I continued, swearing I would get it under control.  But could not. One night on the train home I woke up before the train was pulling in, and was sure I had to move  up a car to one that opened on the platform.

I was running full bore, and yanked open the door to head to the next car and was met with 70 mph wind blowing me back into the car, even as I saw myself stepping into the void. I had passed out in the front car, and damn near stepped to my death. And knowing, in that instant, I wanted my life back.

I had one more sad drunk in me, but that was my bottom. I was miraculously diagnosed with Lyme Disease by a forward thinking chiropractor, quit the job in NYC for a position as a salad boy in a country club near home, reluctantly (I didn’t need any help from God) joined AA and began my recovery. Sober, I took off like a rocket in my profession. Who knew? It took 10 years, every antibiotic known to medicine, including IV for a year, and eventually tai chi to overcome the ravages of the Lyme Disease. Tai chi thus became a foundational element of my recovery and discovery journey, and remains so to this day, some 32 years on. I am particularly proud of staying sober through Lyme recovery. It was really tempting to find someplace like alcohol to disappear into.

What my recovery looks like now! 

32 Astonishing years of recovery>discovery.

Here are things I believe in:

Sobriety is not the constant gray overcast misery the world thinks. It’s joyous, difficult, beautiful, frustrating, funny, gorgeous and amazing. Sometimes all at once. But anything but boring.  Don’t get sober to be miserable. Get sober to be free!

A day at a time. Worry about the things you can control today. Be present. Tomorrow will take care of itself if you take care of today.

Community. Don’t care if it’s AA, Recovery Out Loud, or Rational, or whatever community you prefer. But choose Community. The overlap between the different “schools” is so much greater than anyone typically thinks. Addiction thrives on isolation. Don’t do this alone!

Aspire to higher consciousness—by this I mean stay awake, get off automatic. Pause, think it through, share it with community, don’t knee jerk react. Seek to respond rather than react. “The Pause” is enormously powerful here.

Move, move, move. Movement provides a better lens to see the world. Movement is meditation!

Embrace growth. Don’t define yourself by your limitations, but seek to recognize and transform them.

I  saw a great quote on Instagram this morning—“Without Imagination Compassion Is Impossible”. Stay Curious. Be Kind. Be Grateful.