"When she took my order, I felt a bit embarrassed. It was my first time being in a restaurant since I’d quit. “I’ll have a Clausthaler,” I said. (For some reason I thought I had to order something resembling an alcoholic drink. Another thing I would get over later.)
The extremely cool young waitress rested a hand on my shoulder. 'That’s my drink, too, hon.'"
Beautiful anecdote, it says it all. Brought me to tears.
Your anecdote about the punk waitress proves the 12-step adage, When the student is ready, the teacher will come. I went on a middle of nowhere fishing trip three months sober; two hours to any sort of year-round road. When I opened the kitchen cabinet, I saw a handle of my favorite bourbon staring at me. I was severely tempted. I looked down at the counter just then and noticed that there was a small framed Serenity Prayer. Turned out the caretaker who showed up to check the place every couple of days had been in recovery for decades. So have I been since. . Each time he appeared we had a sort of newbie-to- sponsor session. I identify with 99 percent of your tale. Thank you for it.
This was so great and there are too many quotes to chose just one, but I love the part about friends not recognizing her problem, and the shame she carried. Few things make you feel more alone than shame and yet we all feel it at whether we are addicts or not.
Amazon confirms I bought Poser in 2012, and yes, it still sits on my bookcase, meaning, I loved it enough to keep it through multiple moves. I really appreciate today's interview with Claire and wish her the best in her recovery. There's such an element of gender disparity in how people view alcoholism -- my sister and I, both alcoholics, get the "oh, but you weren't THAT bad" comments ALL THE TIME. It's as if you couldn't really be an alcoholic unless you were raging, destructive, and male.
Yeah, that’s a rude question. But I also think a lot of people who know nothing about sobriety don’t realize that. So it’s good to cut people some slack.
In my case (since this isn’t a dinner party, I don’t mind saying), I’m sober because alcohol triggers atrial fibrillation. So does chocolate - for me, a much bigger loss. It’s an interesting journey. And I’d love to write about being a Sober Oldster from a medical perspective.
Right up there with “where are your kids?” “I don’t have kids.” “Why not?” (From a ‘professional’ post-op medical caseworker… @ a religious agency with public funding)
A group I belong to read Monsters as a book club activity. I was shocked by much of the group's response - not only didn't they like it, I don't even think they got it. I thought Monsters was BRILLIANT. I was so glad I'd bought it in hard cover because I will keep it forever. Thank you for today's post.
Such a powerful read. Thanks, Claire, for sharing your experience. I've enjoyed your writing for ages. It's absolutely beautiful. As a woman in recovery (9/2/94), I found myself nodding my head as I read -- and that's such a joy of sobriety: community, fellowship, sisterhood, feeling 'known' and 'seen' by strangers.
As our literature illustrates within the 12 step old school pedagogy, "we are people who ordinarily wouldn't mix." So true.
I remember moving back home to Denver when I was twenty-three years old. After a few years living abroad newly sober, I was home sick for the Colorado landscape. All my friends from childhood had been tossed by the wayside recklessly while I was active in my addiction and drinking shamelessly.
After unpacking my belongings, I found my way to a meeting and made the acquaintance of Nadia, a self proclaimed "cranky, snarky, irreverent" sober buoy. Little did I know then, she'd be knitting baby hats for my children years later, the first to hold my youngest son after he was born, my best friend, and my confidante.
Although we looked nothing alike, we had a plethora of common interests. She headed back to school to become a clergy member, and I to become an English professor. Today she's still an inspiration to me, and millions of others. Her literature, service work, and authenticity have continued to make outcasts feel like welcome team members.
As for me, I'd love to think perhaps I've made the darkest hours a wee bit more tolerable to others who have felt hopeless and misunderstood.
Forgive the long winded comment. Sending you an immense amount of gratitude. We read to know we're not alone. Your writing is otherworldly. Always. Grounded, relatable, and yet mesmerizing all the same.
It feels like to make a comment risks pigeon-holing or minimizing, which of course is a comment in itself. But I have to say it anyway: told with elegance.
Beautiful interview. The power of friendship in recovery is right there in Kristi’s daily calls to Claire. Reminds me of walks around Seattle when I was newly sober, telling each other, we can trust ourselves.
"When she took my order, I felt a bit embarrassed. It was my first time being in a restaurant since I’d quit. “I’ll have a Clausthaler,” I said. (For some reason I thought I had to order something resembling an alcoholic drink. Another thing I would get over later.)
The extremely cool young waitress rested a hand on my shoulder. 'That’s my drink, too, hon.'"
Beautiful anecdote, it says it all. Brought me to tears.
Your anecdote about the punk waitress proves the 12-step adage, When the student is ready, the teacher will come. I went on a middle of nowhere fishing trip three months sober; two hours to any sort of year-round road. When I opened the kitchen cabinet, I saw a handle of my favorite bourbon staring at me. I was severely tempted. I looked down at the counter just then and noticed that there was a small framed Serenity Prayer. Turned out the caretaker who showed up to check the place every couple of days had been in recovery for decades. So have I been since. . Each time he appeared we had a sort of newbie-to- sponsor session. I identify with 99 percent of your tale. Thank you for it.
This was so great and there are too many quotes to chose just one, but I love the part about friends not recognizing her problem, and the shame she carried. Few things make you feel more alone than shame and yet we all feel it at whether we are addicts or not.
Yes.
Amazon confirms I bought Poser in 2012, and yes, it still sits on my bookcase, meaning, I loved it enough to keep it through multiple moves. I really appreciate today's interview with Claire and wish her the best in her recovery. There's such an element of gender disparity in how people view alcoholism -- my sister and I, both alcoholics, get the "oh, but you weren't THAT bad" comments ALL THE TIME. It's as if you couldn't really be an alcoholic unless you were raging, destructive, and male.
Well said.
“I’m just another schmo.”
For me, this particular recovery lesson has done a lot of heavy lifting. It helps with the lifelong shame.
<3
So well said, and a brave share.
I wonder if people in social situations ask her, “Why don’t you drink?”
Why is that question considered acceptable conversation?
Whether the answer involves a health condition or recovery, the question is invasive.
Yeah, that’s a rude question. But I also think a lot of people who know nothing about sobriety don’t realize that. So it’s good to cut people some slack.
In my case (since this isn’t a dinner party, I don’t mind saying), I’m sober because alcohol triggers atrial fibrillation. So does chocolate - for me, a much bigger loss. It’s an interesting journey. And I’d love to write about being a Sober Oldster from a medical perspective.
Right up there with “where are your kids?” “I don’t have kids.” “Why not?” (From a ‘professional’ post-op medical caseworker… @ a religious agency with public funding)
A group I belong to read Monsters as a book club activity. I was shocked by much of the group's response - not only didn't they like it, I don't even think they got it. I thought Monsters was BRILLIANT. I was so glad I'd bought it in hard cover because I will keep it forever. Thank you for today's post.
<3
Such a powerful read. Thanks, Claire, for sharing your experience. I've enjoyed your writing for ages. It's absolutely beautiful. As a woman in recovery (9/2/94), I found myself nodding my head as I read -- and that's such a joy of sobriety: community, fellowship, sisterhood, feeling 'known' and 'seen' by strangers.
As our literature illustrates within the 12 step old school pedagogy, "we are people who ordinarily wouldn't mix." So true.
I remember moving back home to Denver when I was twenty-three years old. After a few years living abroad newly sober, I was home sick for the Colorado landscape. All my friends from childhood had been tossed by the wayside recklessly while I was active in my addiction and drinking shamelessly.
After unpacking my belongings, I found my way to a meeting and made the acquaintance of Nadia, a self proclaimed "cranky, snarky, irreverent" sober buoy. Little did I know then, she'd be knitting baby hats for my children years later, the first to hold my youngest son after he was born, my best friend, and my confidante.
Although we looked nothing alike, we had a plethora of common interests. She headed back to school to become a clergy member, and I to become an English professor. Today she's still an inspiration to me, and millions of others. Her literature, service work, and authenticity have continued to make outcasts feel like welcome team members.
As for me, I'd love to think perhaps I've made the darkest hours a wee bit more tolerable to others who have felt hopeless and misunderstood.
Forgive the long winded comment. Sending you an immense amount of gratitude. We read to know we're not alone. Your writing is otherworldly. Always. Grounded, relatable, and yet mesmerizing all the same.
Blessings,
Steph Wayland Nicholas
I loved this and now have to read Dederer’s books!
“Quit now bitch” this was it. I remember taking those same quizzes near the end of my drinking era. Thanks for your candor and humor.
Love Claire. ❤️
Oh, I love her. (And her writing.) Thanks for this! xo
Me, too! xo
It feels like to make a comment risks pigeon-holing or minimizing, which of course is a comment in itself. But I have to say it anyway: told with elegance.
This is so wonderful.
This was fantastic, thank you – Claire's honesty is brave and galvanizing!
Beautiful interview. The power of friendship in recovery is right there in Kristi’s daily calls to Claire. Reminds me of walks around Seattle when I was newly sober, telling each other, we can trust ourselves.