Where Did My Joy Go?

Six Years Sober and I'm Just Now Figuring It Out

“I don’t feel like I have experienced joy in a very long time.”

This is what I told my therapist a month ago in a session and kind of caught myself by surprise.

I’ve been mentally well—my nervous system feels regulated, I’m continuing to experience a wider range of emotions on a much lower dose of my antidepressant, and I’ve developed a deep sense of understanding myself that has made me feel more whole than I’ve ever felt.

But that pesky joy! It felt elusive.

She asked me what things provided me a sense of joy and I was so dumbfounded that I had to ask her to define joy and what it can feel like.

She brought out a chart and I felt like a little kid trying to learn what an emotion was.

“Andy, when was the last time you felt this way?”

All I could think of in the moment was when I spent time with my niece playing. The outside world didn’t matter. I wasn’t worried about external factors like how I looked or who was watching. I just felt deeply engaged with this angelic (but sometimes devilish) being that shared my last name.

We decided we’d work on cultivating more joy in my life, which I was excited about. But I left feeling like I hadn’t gotten to the bottom of my lack of joy.

I was stuck in traffic on the way home and it hit me. The last time I truly felt consistent joy was when I was drunk, surrounded by friends, with endless possibilities in the moment.

I emailed her while I was in a gridlock:

Alcohol was the most exciting thing in my life. It always seemed to allow me to turn off my brain and have so much fun with my friends. I never liked drinking alone because it made me sad, but I would legit look forward to going out with my buddies and drinking. It energized me.

Some of the best moments of my life have been while drinking with others: concerts on the beach, day drinking at college and playing drinking games, etc.

I realized I was addicted to the feeling of being a different person.

Alcohol gave me the confidence to become someone else, if only for some time.

I became easy-spirited, confident, spontaneous, outgoing, and secure. I didn’t feel the loneliness of never having felt deeply loved by a significant other. I didn’t feel pessimistic about my future.

I could go flirt with that beautiful girl at the bar. Or make friends with those guys who thought I was hilarious and wanted to hang out again soon.

I felt ALIVE.

I could step into this character at any moment and turn into Don Draper with the charisma and charm.

Add in the connection and camaraderie of drinking with friends and I felt unstoppable.

And then my ability to switch characters ended, cold turkey when I got sober.

Add in my friends moving into a different phase of their lives with marriage and kids, and I lost the ability to experience joy in the way I knew how.

Each year, I was congratulated for staying sober another year. But I also continued to lose the confidence in myself to cultivate joy and excitement.

Sober, amazing. Joy? Not so much.

That’s why sobriety to me has felt…meh. Boring. Bland. It’s just been whatever.

I never realized how important alcohol was to my ability to improve myself. In a screwed up way, alcohol was my first foray into self improvement, which by now you know is very important to me.

Give me a few drinks and I was who I wanted to be.

So what do I do with this knowledge now?

In full transparency, I’m still figuring this out.

My first step has been realizing that alcohol only brought out the parts of me that were already there but hiding behind the barriers I’d created.

I already possessed all of these abilities. Alcohol just made it easier to call them forward.

I don't know yet what it looks like to call them forward sober. I'm still figuring that out.