How to build a "Sober Network" and why it's important

AJ Diaz • Feb 12, 2021

Why Sober Supports Are So Important For Addiction Recovery

I keep hearing the phrase “sober network”…what does that mean and how do I do that?


If you’re new to getting sober and feel like everyone keeps giving you a million different suggestions and pulling you in so many different directions…just…breathe. And exhale out now…


Better, right? So, about all of these different suggestions and things that you have to do in order to maintain your sobriety and not fall back into drinking or using – they all have their place. The best part about it? They are just suggestions and you can take them one at a time and as you need them. One of the loudest thoughts that I had when I first got sober was “you need to take every suggestion, do everything and get better right away!” The only problem with that was all of the suggestions were really overwhelming and I really didn’t know where to start. 


One of the beliefs that I held in the first 30 days or so of sobriety was that no one could possibly understand how I feel – they wouldn’t get the things that I had done, and they wouldn’t be able to really get me. I stayed with that narrative for a few weeks as it felt real and safe. The only problem was, it seemed to put distance between me and the other people that I was around who were also trying to heal. One of the best parts about treatment is when you are able to get off of the grounds and feel like a person again. My time to do that was when we had the option of going to a 7:30am meeting. Now, I was not the biggest morning person in the world but the idea of being able to drink good coffee and see other people was far too tempting. It was at this first meeting that the notion of “no one gets me” starting to deteriorate. 


I sat in this meeting with a fresh donut and a cup of coffee fully intending on ignoring everyone. Maybe it was the taste of good coffee or the sugar in the donut, but I found myself actually paying attention to the people in the meeting and listening to what they were saying. The first thing I noticed was that they were all dressed to go to work. The next thing that really struck me was that all of these people, who looked very well put together and ready to go about their day, were all talking about feelings and experiences that I had. I didn’t know it yet, but this was my first experience with a sober network. Looking back on it, what I found in that meeting was that I was not alone in my feelings and my experiences. For me, this was the catalyst to reaching out to other people in recovery in order to increase my network of people who “got it.” My family and friends who are not in recovery are truly some of the most supportive, kind and loving people not only in my life, but in the world. The only thing they don’t have is the experience that I went through and to be honest, I wouldn’t want them to have to go through that if they don’t have to. For me, this is where having a sober network was so instrumental in the beginning. It provided an outlet of people who through their own lived experience could listen to what I was feeling and thinking about and truly get it and provide supportive feedback if need be about how they handled either an identical or similar situation and did it sober. 


Like so many things in life, reaching out to others for help is something we have to not only learn is perfectly normal and healthy; it is also something that in the context of recovery, can save us and make us feel whole. With so many suggestions possibly coming at me, starting with increasing my sober network felt like a digestible step to take. We all need connection and this is a wonderful way to get it. 

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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