Getting Comfortable With Myself: Three and a Half Years of Showing Up

Show Transcript

CoreyBerrier 0:30

Welcome to the Successful Life Podcast. I'm your host, Corey Berrier. And today, just like every single day, I'm grateful, super grateful to be completely sober. Last week, the episode was called Keep Climbing Fear Comes Back.

And we talked about how making one courageous decision doesn't mean the fear disappears. You get up the next day, you get on the ladder still there. You make a decision on whether you're going to climb it or whether you're not going to climb it. And the same thing with recovery.

Every day you wake up and you make a decision whether you're going to stay sober or whether you're not going to stay sober. And so I talked about the differences in showing up to a meeting and then actually participating. I talked about being honest when I was afraid, when I was afraid to on the roof, and how how that honestly helped me make a good decision. So this week I want to step back and show you kind of what those small decisions and actions can add up to.

Today I'm going to talk about the last three and a half years of my life in recovery, and I want to be clear about the timeline. I quit drinking a lot longer than three and a half years ago. But what changed in this last three and a half years was how I participated in my recovery and how I connected with other people. I went from feeling isolated and scared and like I didn't really have any friends to having people I can call, people I can recover beside.

And people that know more than the versions I used to present to the world, the mask. I've talked about this many a times. And that didn't happen because somebody waved a magic wand. And if you're listening from your car or the gym or wherever you are, I want you to think about this with me today.

What if discomfort is sometimes the doorway to the connection you've been asking for? It's possible to be around people and still be lonely. I know that because that was me. And I did it for years.

I could walk into a meeting and know how the meeting worked, hear a message that I agreed with, and walk out without letting anybody know what was actually happening inside of me. Countless times that happened. But emotionally I was on the outside. And I want that to stay with you for a minute because some somebody's listening to this, I guarantee it, that may be doing the same thing right as we speak.

You keep you may keep showing up, and people may even assume you're doing great because you probably told them you're doing great. But if you leave that room before you can ask a real question, if you always say, like I said before, if you always say I'm good, if you keep every conversation surface level, then that's the distance between you and everybody else. But you know, I was afraid of what people thought of me. I was afraid of being judged in a room full of alcoholics of all places.

I was afraid that if people got to know the real me, they might decide they didn't really like that guy. And the strange thing is that I did want friends. I wanted connection because I'd been so isolated. I wanted that sense of belonging that seemed that like other people seemed to have.

But I kept doing things that made it almost impossible for anybody to get close to me. And there is a kind of a loneliness that doesn't come from nobody being available, it comes from believing you have to handle everything by yourself. The more you do that, the more natural it starts to feel. And you tell yourself, this is just who I am.

I'm independent. Some independence is healthy for me at times. It was fear wearing uh wearing uh well, a mask. I couldn't force a genuine friendship into existence in one day or one week.

But I could stay after a meeting for about 10 minutes or come before the meeting and meet a new person, stick my hand out, learn their name. God only knows for me, try to remember their name. I could tell somebody the truth about one thing, and these actions sound small, but from where I stood, they were huge. About three and a half years ago, a little bit more than that now.

I began, I came back to the program in a different way. And I tried, you know, I tried to make it not look like a scene in a movie, which is what I did before. I always had to be have a cool conversation or a cool story, or but it was never the truth. That is the God's honest truth.

And I didn't want people to see I didn't have the answer. Because it was uncomfortable, because I was a know-it-all. Some of you may have you you may know that feeling. You go to a new group, or you put your hand up and speak, and your mind starts saying, Well, what if I'm wrong, or what if this sounds stupid, or what if they think this is not what I'm supposed to be sharing, or what if they don't even remember me?

And what helped me wasn't a guarantee that none of those things were gonna happen because they could have. But it real, I realized I survived that awkward moment, just like in sales. When you if you're a good salesperson, there's awkward moments that you have of silence, and those things make or break a sale lots of times. I could make it through a conversation and it wasn't perfect, I could still be nervous and uh and stay.

The discomfort itself didn't mean I was in the wrong, and that's what I would tell myself. If you're uncomfortable, you must be doing something wrong. But in that uncomfort is where you grow. And it's been one of the biggest challenges actually of the last few years is I used to treat the discomfort as a stop sign.

And now I try to ask why I am feeling uncomfortable. And uh sometimes it's just telling me I need to slow down and be careful and ask for help. It's like I told you about the roof last week. Stopping was a stopping drinking, drugging was a choice, it was a wise choice.

And other times, discomfort is simply what it feels like it is to be seen for the first time. But there are certain moments where I can stay long enough to learn what happens next. And though that's a win, that's a massive win. You know, feeling like I belonged wasn't just handed to me because I walked through the door, which is what I thought it was going to be.

I've arrived. Everybody should love me. But instead, I built relationships and continued to show up and begin recognizing people and having to write down their names so I didn't forget. And eventually people started recognizing me.

I listened when somebody shared, and it helped me understood what they were going through. Instead of trying to disconnect from that person and and not go talk to them, I would actually go and tell them I enjoyed what they shared because it meant something to me. And I've had people do that to me in the past, and it really feels really good when that happens. Also, I I learned that being part of a group doing ordinary things with people like show up, put a chair away, make the coffee.

Ask how somebody's week went and shut the hell up and listen. Come back next week. Remember what they told you. Friendships lots of times grow because you keep showing up.

It's repeated action, is what friendships are. And by by developing these relationships, I eventually I've eventually stopped pretending to be somebody I wasn't. I need to say this because I don't want anybody to hear this episode and think they have to become the loudest person in the room. You can be quiet and still participate, you can listen and be present.

You can question am I available for a real connection? Whether I'm making sure nobody gets close to me or not. There's a difference in enjoying time alone and hiding in isolation. It was a blurry line for me, but I had to be honest with myself about which one I was doing.

And I'd love to tell you that I made more friends simply by going to more meetings. Yes, going to meetings matter, but the inner work is what really mattered. Because if I carry that same fear and resentment and the need to control every outcome into the room, I still feel alone and awkward and in the whole I in a room full of people. And it's it's so uncomfortable to feel that way.

And working the steps asked me to look at my part, not everybody else's part, but my part, and that's uncomfortable. Talking honestly with my sponsor at the beginning was uncomfortable. I didn't because here hearing something I didn't want to hear was uncomfortable. Being willing to make an amends is uncomfortable.

But all of those things have given me a different relationship with myself. You know, I used to think that comfort with myself would come when I had when I could be the smartest guy in the room, or I had an answer for every question. Instead, I realized I I couldn't admit when I was wrong, or that I'm not feeling good, or I'm afraid. Today I can take responsibility without deciding that one mistake defines me forever.

And that's true freedom. I'm not talking about never feeling regret because that would be impossible. It just means I don't have to spend the rest of my life defending against the truth. Once I can face something honestly, I can do something with it.

I can talk through it, I can make a repair when it's appropriate, and I can move forward. When you hear people talking about doing the work, they aren't that and you aren't totally sure what that looks like. Here's part of what that has meant for me. I stopped rehearsing the story before everybody and where everybody else was the problem.

And I asked for change. And for me, that was in prayer. I I talk about things that you know that bring me shame, and I talk about them in a safe space. I don't talk about them to everybody, I don't bring them up in a fucking meeting, but I talk to people that are safe, a safe space, and you got to figure out who those people are.

And then I was then I was able to allow myself to receive help. And then I try to practice what I've learned in that next relationship. Not only the the positives, but the negatives, and that's kind of an ordinary Tuesday for me. I know it doesn't sound very glamorous, but it has changed my life.

Something else happened as I kept showing up, is my world got bigger when I started caring about what other people needed and not being so goddamn selfish. I could arrive at a meeting and I'd be wrapped up. This has happened countless times, wrapped up in my own shit. And remember, I'm part of something bigger than the things I'm wrapped up in, it's it would completely change my perspective.

Now I want to be honest, helping somebody else does not magically solve my problems. I still have to take care of my responsibilities, I still have to tell the truth about my own life. But you know, when I'm helpful, when I'm of service to another person, it does take me out of myself for that moment. And it takes me, and then you you build on that, and eventually that service work just becomes a natural thing.

If you remember what I said last week, where they're we're there to share our experience, strength, and hope. We're not there to we're not in charge in charge of making somebody else's outcome happen. We're not in the results business. That lesson was what I needed.

If I talked to another alcoholic and they don't know they don't know what they should be doing, or I can still be honest and be kind, and I don't get to run people's recovery. My job is to keep working on mine and offer what I can. And that doesn't mean people are gonna take it. It just means that you can offer your own experience, strength, and hope.

That's it. It's just an offer, take it or leave it. And most of the time, the person I'm trying to help is actually helping me more than I'm helping them. That is the God's honest truth.

I'll hear somebody describe something that's been fearful or that is a fear of mine, and I'll watch them take a step that they were avoiding, that I was avoiding, or be reminded that be reminded what it felt like when someone made time for me, and I can be grateful for that today and pass that along. Service work moved me towards people over time. Those people became part of my life. And let's talk about friends for a second, because a few years ago I felt like I didn't have any of those any friends, not the kind of friends I really wanted.

When you're in that place, it's easy to imagine everybody else. They got some sort of instruction manual on how to hang out with people and how to be friends, but that I never got, but that's just not that's not the truth. You know, friendships develop over time. And that sort of began with seeing the same people and being honest a little bit more often and following through.

I could ask somebody to go have coffee, or I could answer the phone when they call, or better yet, call and check on them. People call and check in on me, which feels really good. That part matters. I used to be so I used to be much more comfortable being useful than being vulnerable.

And if you if you ask me to help, I can do that. I can help you all day long. But if you ask how you can help me, I'm good. But I had to learn that letting somebody else do nice things for me is part of the is part of a friendship, which was tough for me.

I'm not gonna lie to you. It was very difficult, and still to this day sometimes is difficult. I've had time, I've had a chance to spend time with guys in recovery beyond just the meeting. We've traveled together, we talked, we laugh, we see one another, you know, outside of our usual routines.

Especially here in Wilmington, and those experiences have taught me something I could never have learned standing at the edge of the room. When you spend time with folks outside of the rooms, you grow. And as I mentioned, well, more recently, as my life has brought me here to Wilmington, I had another opportunity to practice this. I would have been, it would have been easy for me to tell myself, you're new here, you don't know enough people.

Just stay to yourself. Instead, I put my ass in the middle. I met people, I got numbers, I called people, I went to unfamiliar places, I went to unfamiliar meetings, and I figured out how to develop familiar conversations. And I've learned all that in the rooms.

It's funny how I look back and I look at that person that was scared and alone, and now I have a host of friends. I I didn't get there by waiting around in my house until I felt confident to go out. I got there by accepting to go places I didn't really want to go with people in recovery and being uncomfortable with or being comfortable with being uncomfortable, which was difficult. I'm still learning though.

I'm still human. There are days I want to just isolate. Of course there are days, but I'm still So I have so much connection, both here and in Raleigh, that I know what happens when I pick up the phone or I go to a meeting that I don't want to go to. It changes my perspective on that loneliness or that isolation.

And then every single time it's it does feel like it's a magic potion. It really truly feels magical because I can't think of anything else in this world that would that works that way. And I don't I can have a good day without trying to prove that I'm better than you. I can have a hard day without trying to hide it from everybody.

I can disagree with somebody and still care about them. I can hear no without making it a declaration of my self-worth. Sometimes it means noticing I'm scared and saying no. Or saying, well, not really saying no, saying like I'm scared.

I don't know why I said saying no. I just completely misspoke there. But it's being able to speak up, is what I'm saying. And if you're scared, it's you gotta speak up, or that shit's just gonna grow.

You know, the roof story told you last week I was afraid I wasn't gonna make it. And the guy told me, and I told the guy that I didn't think I was gonna make it. And he just said, you should stay right there. You're good.

And I was just being honest, and it didn't make me look weak, it helped me make the right call because I wasn't comfortable. That's a different kind of being uncomfortable with uncomfortable. I didn't feel like my leg was going to reach the roof. I didn't have enough distance to get up on the roof.

I knew there wasn't something right, and I just spoke up and had to say it. That experience isn't a lesson to push through every uncomfortable situation, it's a lesson to tell the truth. And use good judgment. Let other people help you.

The same stuff has happened in recovery. When I tell you the truth about how I'm feeling or what I'm feeling, somebody can actually meet me where I'm at. When I'm the performative version of myself who has everything under control, people can only connect with that performance. The more I practice being honest, the less energy I spend trying to remember the version of myself that I showed.

What version did I show this person? What version did I show that person? There's a lot of peace in not having to show up as somebody different everywhere you go. It sucks, man.

And I'm still responsible for how I act, and the and I still have work to do. But I'm willing to do that work, and I don't have to be somebody else to be accepted today. If I could sit across from that guy three and a half years ago that felt scared and completely friendless, I wouldn't give him a speech about how a badass he was going to be, because he wouldn't believe me. I would tell him something that's useful that he could relate to.

Like go to a meeting, stay afterwards, learn a person's name, tell your sponsor what's actually happening. Say yes to the invitation when it makes you a little bit nervous about for for obvious reasons. Offer to help somebody when you get home, replay what you said and remember that everybody else is human too, and then just go back next week and do it all over again. I would also say to that guy three and a half years ago that it's okay if the first conversation's awkward, bro.

Like, you don't have to turn every person you meet into your damn best friend. Relationship relationships take time. Be interested instead of interesting. Let people see you and learn to ask for help.

I would also say, be patient that more gifts are ahead. And they have been more gifts than I could ever imagine in my finite mind have happened. More things than I could even begin to tell you. And not every week's gonna feel like progress.

Some of the most important changes were slow and steady. And I only realize that now because I've been able to look back, and it's just small actions that just built over time. And maybe that sounds like where you are today. And I hope you'll hear this, but being lonely right now doesn't mean you're destined to stay lonely.

You may not see, you may not see the people who will matter a year from now. Give them a chance to meet you because you just never know. So I'm gonna leave you with a challenge. The same way I did last week.

Last week's challenge was just be honest, take an honest action in the next 24 hours. This week I want you to take one action towards connecting with another person and be intentional about that. Stay 10 minutes after a meeting, go 10 minutes before, call someone instead of thinking about calling them, and don't talk yourself out of it. Ask people how they're doing regularly when you see them, and then listen to what they have to say.

Don't listen to answer, listen so you can respond intentionally. You don't need to do all of these, pick one, put it on your calendar. Jesus Christ, I put everything on my calendar because it helps me to stay organized. Pay attention to what your mind says.

It may tell you the conversation was awkward, and that maybe you should have said something differently, but you can choose just to let that shit go and give yourself credit for just showing up. And then do something again next week. Again, relationships are built on repetition. The first step opens the door, and then returning is how you walk through it.

Last week I said fear can come back after you climb the ladder. And this week I'm telling you what can happen when you keep climbing back on that ladder. Three and a half years of meetings, uncomfortable conversations, step work, service, friendships, the friendships that that have they have changed. I mean, I started out with none, and now I have more friends than I can count.

When I was sober before, this chapter, when I quit drinking, that's kind of when this chapter began. But then over all these years, it's taught me how much richer sobriety can be. When I stop staying on the outside of my own life, I have people I care about, I have people that care about me. I still get scared, I still have to make decisions one day at a time.

Today, I don't have to make them by myself. And if you're isolated right now, take one step toward another person. You don't have to feel comfortable. You may discover, just like I did, being willing to feel uncomfortable is part of how you become comfortable with yourself.

I appreciate you guys listening, spending this time with me. If this episode helped you, make sure you share it with somebody, tell somebody about it. That's how we grow the podcast. If you haven't already subscribed, do that please.

And we'll see you next week.