More money, same problems

When I first got sober I just found a bunch of new distractions

First up - welcome to all my new subscribers who have arrived since Substack made this a Featured Publication (which feels like a great honour, so thanks). This newsletter is about mental health without the bollocks (for my American readers, that means ‘without the bullshit’).

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So if you’d like to support The Reset for less than the price of a couple of coffees a month, then consider upgrading now. The Reset is funded entirely by loyal readers and any contributions are massively appreciated. Anyway, on with this week’s letter…

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SPEND SPEND SPEND!

When I first got sober I just discovered a whole new addiction.

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

An addictive personality can manifest itself in numerous ways. Since I quit booze and drugs in 2015 I have channeled my obsessive tendencies through an array of other outlets.

To begin with, it was work. I spent the first three years of sobriety distracting myself from the feelings that still lurked inside of me by taking on as many jobs and money making schemes as possible. For as long as it all kept delivering me cash and (superficial) kudos, I was satisfied. I actually convinced myself that, by taking booze and drugs out of my life, I had developed super powers which allowed me to fit extra hours into each working day with absolutely no negative consequences. I was, of course, wrong. Eventually I burned out and went a bit barmy.

I had yet to realise that I wasn’t really addressing the feelings and hang-ups that had caused me to drink for so many years. I was just coping in a different, slightly less destructive way.

For a few years, I actually felt pretty rich. Not Elon Musk rich. Not even Mike Baldwin rich. Just rich by my own standards, which meant I never had to worry about bills or mortgage payments and could afford to take my family on holiday a few times a year.

It was at this time that I discovered another compulsive behaviour common among recovering alcoholics : spending. I got into the habit of buying stuff online to make myself feel happy, important, successful or excited. Most of all I think I did it to stop myself from feeling bored. I was terrified of boredom and had spent the previous three decades trying to avoid it by getting shitfaced. Now that was off the agenda, I turned to my credit card for help.

I would buy things in order to elicit the little hits of dopamine that lager, cocaine and weed had once delivered. The money that used to go to the local publicans and dealers was now being diverted to Oi Polloi, The Hip Store and any other clothes shops that caught my eye on a Sunday morning scroll through Instagram.

My wife started to comment on the daily stream of boxes that were being delivered, containing more trainers and jackets than I had time to actually wear. I told her it was fine, we could afford it. I told myself I deserved it. But this pattern of self-indulgence as a form of ‘reward’ was as familiar as it was destructive. It was all just a mutated form of the same old addiction; a futile hunt for validation, distraction and tiny, fleeting thrills.

The whole time I was using spending to numb out the bad thoughts, I was deferring the real work. That work was unpicking the painful feelings I was always running from. To understand where they came from, reflect on their toxic impact and try to find some closure. To try and be a better person who was more comfortable in his own skin. The sort of person who could find enough comfort and pleasure in his life without needing those constant, empty, short term hits of synthetic joy.

A business catastrophe in 2018 knocked all of the spending on the head for a while. It also left me with a bit of extra time on my hands. Sometimes, the universe intervenes - forcing you to change and take care of yourself a bit better. I had to slow down, reflect and focus on all the recovery work I had been avoiding for the previous three years. That meant therapy, groups, rest, fitness and time spent with the right friends and loved ones.

I came out the other side far from perfect but immeasurably happier in myself. I learned to cope with the insecurity, shame, anger, pain and anxiety that had always been a part of me. I worked hard to understand where it all came from. That helped me to move on from it. I no longer needed to crush my feelings with booze, drugs, work or spending. I could sit with my feelings and watch them pass.

I’ve been back on my feet for five years now - with my work, money, health, sobriety and emotions in a far more stable place than they have ever been. Instead of trying to tell myself and others that I was okay I chose to face up to the fact that I wasn’t. I faced my demons. I stopped buying as many trainers and I began taking naps in the day. Not every day, just the ones that feel a bit overwhelming. Most mornings I walk my dog in the park without headphones so I can hear the birds singing, then I come home, put a record on and make a pot of tea. Life can be really fucking beautiful when you strip out all the bollocks.

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Some services, links and phone numbers to help you through the tough times

https://www.samaritans.org/ Tel 116 123

https://www.thecalmzone.net

@YoungMindsUK 0800 018 2138

@CharitySane 0300 304 7000

https://www.alcoholics-anonymous.org.uk/

https://cocaineanonymous.org.uk/

https://andysmanclub.co.uk/

https://www.nhs.uk/live-well/healthy-body/gambling-addiction/