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Voices ᐋ ᐄᔮᔨᐧᒫᓂᐧᐃᒡ

Six years sober

BY Maïtée Labrecque-Saganash Jul 16, 2024

I will be celebrating my sixth year of sobriety at the end of July. I had my last beer on some random afternoon of what feels like two lifetimes ago without a clear plan of how I would implement these changes in my life – or if it would last at all. But here I am. 

To say I’ve changed would be an understatement. The discipline needed to maintain sobriety is demanding and forced me to face the worst parts of myself to get better. You get accustomed to it, but each year without alcohol and drugs brings its challenges. Here’s what I learned this past year.

  1. City sobriety is tough.

I was able to get sober when I moved north. I was close to my family, my Cree kin, my language, my traditions and my land. Besides the community care I could finally access, drinking habits are different back home. 

In the city, alcohol is served or is normal in most social settings, even at brunch or at children’s birthday parties. Back home, I could enjoy most community events and a lot of family functions without being in the presence of alcohol. 

Having moved back down south because of the housing crisis in Waswanipi, I am now constantly exposed to alcohol everywhere I go. People ask me why I don’t drink. 

Even though there are now more sober options in restaurants (and studies show that Gen Zers down south drink way less than us Millennials), the difference in booze culture is still striking.

  1. At some point, you will have to face your triggers.

Being back full-time in a city where people knew me at my worst and saw me in all kinds of predicaments really sucks at times. Nothing humbles you as much or forces you to own your past like the shame that comes with running into people or places you frequented in active addiction. 

The fear of being recognized and judged every time I left my house kept me inside a lot this past year. It brought my already problematic anxiety to new levels. 

Unpacking that shame in therapy on my own dime is adding to the frustration of not being able to live in my community where I feel safe. However, doing that work is necessary to start living a somewhat normal life again.

  1. Don’t project on your friends.

Seeing some of my sober friends relapsing or start using casually again stirred up unpleasant feelings. Having some of my Day Ones not doing the sober thing by my side anymore left me disappointed, lonely and feeling almost betrayed at times. It’s much easier to hold other people accountable than yourself. Having to rely only on your discipline is frustrating at times. 

It is tempting to slack because your friend made their own decisions. You start to wonder whether you can also use casually without ruining your life all over again. 

But I need to remind myself that I was not a good person when I used. It’s not because my friends can do it in moderation that I necessarily can. In any case, I don’t want to test that theory again. 

I quit to have a better life and other people don’t owe me anything. Don’t weaponize your own life choices against your loved ones.

So let’s be honest – sobriety is not easy. It’s the outcome that makes it worth the struggle. Without it, I wouldn’t have a good job and career or have been able to climb out of poverty. I wouldn’t have become a homeowner, nor would I have been able to provide life-changing opportunities to people I love. 

I cannot stress it enough: self-discipline (and therapy) is crucial. I hope I will see many more sober years.

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Maïtée Labrecque-Saganash is Cree from Waswanipi, and is the Nation’s newest columnist. She is an activist and writer who also has a regular column in Montreal’s French Metro Newspaper.