Now that I'm sober, can I go to events or parties with alcohol?

sites • Nov 23, 2020

We didn't get sober to shy away from life. We got sober to live life and be present for every moment.

In the first few days after getting sober the first thought was “how am I going to do anything fun without alcohol?” Honestly, it was a pretty legit question. The last time that I went out and “partied’ without alcohol was when I was 13 and my weekend nights revolved around playing tackle football in basements with my friends, ordering Dominos, and watching Friday the 13th movies. After that, going to parties not only included alcohol, but began to revolve around it as well. Who is driving to pick up beer,  and how much should we get were the questions that replaced “do you want regular or thin crust pizza?” 


As the first few days turned into weeks and then months, my original question got put on the back burner. The thought that I was starting to have was “will I ever be able to be around alcohol in any social setting?” I knew that at that point, even just 90 days into sobriety, that my life was so much better. With that knowledge, I also knew that I couldn’t give up this new life that I had just begun to form. Having said all of that, I still wanted to be me – social, out with friends, enjoying being young. 


There was my dilemma – how do I do both of those things at the same time? At 4 months sober, I got an invite to a friend’s birthday party. I told myself that it was rude to turn down a very nice invitation but the truth was that I was so curious to see what it would be like to be around alcohol. Before leaving to head to the party (it was at a bar by the way) I was filled with confidence. I was feeling good, looking good and I couldn’t wait to show everyone how great I was doing. 


That confidence evaporated as soon as I walked into the party and was in a bar for the first time as a sober person. My chest tightened, my hands got sweaty and I immediately did not want to be there. Right at that moment, I decided I would say hi to my friends, wish my buddy a happy birthday and leave. I wanted to say hi to everyone, let my friend know that I appreciated the invite, wish him well and beyond that, if I was being honest with myself, there wasn’t anything else there for me to do. When I left the bar, it was like I could breathe again. I felt safe as soon as I left and felt even safer with every step that I took back home. As soon as I got back home I knew two things: 


  1. That sucked. 
  2. I feel like I’m going to need a better plan if I want to be able to be at a party with alcohol. 


After some more field research on this matter, I have come to this conclusion for myself. When it comes to going out and being around alcohol, I don’t have to be there. I can always say no to an invitation. I have learned that when someone invites me somewhere, it doesn’t mean that I am under contract to go, it just means that the person extending the invitation enjoys being around me (I don’t blame them ☺) and they would love for me to be there. If I say no, I am not ruining a relationship, I am just respecting myself enough to not put myself in a dangerous situation. 


I realize that there are a myriad of events in life that will involve alcohol. Weddings, engagement parties, bachelor/bachelorettes, work events, holidays, Tuesday afternoons...The list goes on and on. My feeling is this, if there is a legitimate reason for me to be there, I have no problem going. When I do go however, I have a plan in place. Depending on the event, I have a set time of when I am going to leave. That can be 2 hours after I walk in or at midnight for example. In addition, I always try and go with someone or at the very least have at least one person there who knows that I am sober and don’t drink. I always tell the person that I am with that if I am feeling uncomfortable, I am just simply going to leave and I will text them that I have left. If I don’t have anyone that can accompany me and I have to be at this event, I call someone before I go in, text them for accountability during and then call them after. 


This plan has helped me so many times in so many situations. It has allowed me to be sober, present and at every party that I choose to go to. We didn’t get sober to shy away from life; we got sober to live life and be present for every moment.

Worth the Wait: Megan's Path to Lasting Addiction Recovery and Purpose

By Megan Miller, CAC • 29 Oct, 2024
I grew up full of fear. Everything terrified me. I never felt comfortable in my own skin. It wasn’t until I started smoking pot at 14—because I was too afraid to stand up to peer pressure—that I finally felt a sense of freedom and relaxation for the first time. I chased that high for the next 16 years. Somehow, I managed to graduate college with an OxyContin addiction, and after that, with nothing tethering me to the real world, things got a lot worse. I went to detox for the first of many times in 2005. I left there thinking I wasn’t an addict and that my use had just gotten out of control. That denial kept me in and out of treatment for the next decade. Heroin became my entire life. I couldn’t hold a job, I overdosed, I got Hepatitis C from sharing needles, and I didn’t care about anything except getting high. I was so full of shame at what my life had become, but I just couldn’t stop. I was great at trying to stop, but I couldn’t stay stopped. The gift of desperation came to me in April 2012. I couldn’t keep living the way I was. I finally wanted to live instead of die. That compulsion to use left me when I finally surrendered to it. Today, I wake up grateful for the life I have. My 6-year-old daughter is the greatest joy of my life, and she has never seen me use. Today, with the support of my wonderful husband, my family, and my recovery network, I live a full life of joy and purpose. There is no more rewarding feeling in the world than sharing the gift of recovery with others.

Overdose Awareness Day: A Reflection on Hope and Recovery

By Dave Aumiller, CPS, NCPRSS • 03 Sep, 2024
Overdose. It’s a word that catches in my throat and a topic that stops me in my tracks. As a person in long-term recovery from Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) and Substance Use Disorder (SUD), I have overdosed many times. I have been revived by paramedics three times. Waking up in a hospital bed with no idea how I got there—scared. Or in the back of an ambulance, sick and angry for being Narcaned, a crazed hostage of my addicted mind. Or in a front yard, soaking wet from someone throwing me in a cold shower, unsuccessfully trying to revive me before leaving me outside—confused. These experiences don’t account for the countless times I have overdosed and been revived by a concerned party—now scarred by the trauma of my disease in its final stage, trying to carry out its final act, resulting in an untimely death. Overdose. After all of this, it was the kindness and care of others that made the difference between another chance and another day. Another dose of hope and life. An opportunity to begin again. On a day like today, reflecting on a topic that is so close to the heart of everyone connected to this reality, I am grateful. I am hopeful. I am humble. Because I know how lucky I am. How undeserving I was. And I live my amends and gratitude by doing my best to embody and live the values of a recovery that works. I also keep close to my heart, at the forefront of my mind, and on the tip of my tongue, the names of the countless others who weren’t as lucky as I. In honor of Overdose Awareness Day, I will say the names of my friends who weren’t fortunate enough to receive as many chances as I did, and I will live in their names—sober today and willing to extend a hand to anyone who needs it in their journey to recover and spread hope to both the sufferer and the caregiver.  Today, let us remember those we have lost, cherish the moments we have been given, and continue to fight for a future where overdose is a distant memory. Together, we can make a difference. Together, we can spread hope.

Overdose Awareness Day: Survivor's Guilt Transformed into Hope

By Shannon Schwoeble, CPS • 29 Aug, 2024
I was devastated when I heard that another close friend I'd made in treatment was gone. Seven friends in my first six months—two had come into treatment, left, and passed away while I was still there. In the years that followed, many others who had walked this path alongside me were lost as well. Nine in my first year of recovery. I found myself asking, "Why am I still here? Why didn’t they ‘get it’?"  Survivor’s guilt was not something I expected to experience in recovery. It hit me hard and fast when I began my journey in 2011. I was terrified. I would sit and think about friends I had just seen or spoken to—did they seem different? Did they sound off? I was so scared of who I would lose next. Through my work with a therapist and finding my own voice, I learned to transform my survivor's guilt into hope. I realized that by using my voice, sharing my story, saying their names, and talking about the profound impact each of them had on me—in life and in death—I could help others understand that recovery is possible. Perhaps, something I share will give someone struggling a glimmer of hope that they, too, can find recovery. On Overdose Awareness Day, August 31, we remember and honor those we've lost to this devastating disease. In loving memory of Ben, Pat, Krista, Harry, Christina, Brook, Dustin, Jeff, Jamie, and everyone we have lost—you are remembered and loved, today and every day.
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