I Couldn't Get Sober Until I Understood This | How I quit drinking Alcohol
Updated: Oct 20
How shame, self-compassion, AuDHD, and the grief of letting go changed my relationship with drinking.
I used to think that if I could just be harder on myself, I would finally stop doing the things I knew were hurting me. But if shame were enough to change us, wouldn't we have changed already?
This is the story of how I got sober—and how understanding what alcohol represented to me made it possible to choose something different. It's also a story about belonging, masking, self-trust, and the strange grief of letting go of something that felt like a friend.
Why alcohol felt like a magical doorway
I started drinking when I was 18, in a family setting where alcohol felt tied to belonging. Long before I knew I was autistic and ADHD, socializing was excruciating. I monitored my facial expressions, posture, clothing, and every word I said. It felt like everyone else had received an instruction manual that I somehow missed.
Then came alcohol. Suddenly I could stop analyzing every tiny movement and just be. I felt connected, funny, easy, social. Alcohol became my wing woman. For a long time, I thought of her as medicine.
That's important to understand. I wasn't simply attached to a drink. I was attached to what I believed the drink allowed me to become.
When relief turned into self-punishment
What seemed to give me freedom during a night out created another kind of captivity afterward. I would wake up and replay everything: What did I say? Did I embarrass myself? Had I ruined a relationship? My self-monitoring didn't disappear. It came roaring back.
Looking back through the lens of my AuDHD, I understand those experiences as intertwined with masking, social anxiety, and what I call rejection sensitivity dysphoria. That's my retrospective interpretation, not a diagnosis of every feeling I had.
Research offers some context. A [2020 qualitative study of autistic adults with social anxiety](https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC7482774/) documented social self-monitoring, rumination after interactions, and some participants using alcohol to make social situations easier. This doesn't mean all autistic people drink for these reasons. It does mean my experience isn't impossible to understand in a wider context.
Eventually, the costs were too high. I was afraid of the situations I might put myself in, the damage to my relationships, and what the emotional aftermath was doing to me.
The shift: my needs weren't wrong
Here's the distinction that changed things for me: I wanted connection, acceptance, belonging, and permission to be myself. Those needs were not the problem. The way I was trying to meet them had become the problem.
Instead of asking only, “How do I make myself stop?” I began to understand what I had been reaching for all along. Alcohol had become associated with safety, social ease, and access to the person I thought I was supposed to be. But that association wasn't the truth. It was a story I had learned through experience—and one I could begin to change.
I could stop treating alcohol as medicine without turning my younger self into a villain. She was trying to help. She simply didn't have the understanding and options I have now.
What research actually says about shame and addiction
My experience led me to question the idea that humiliation is a useful engine for lasting change. The research is more complicated than a slogan, but it gives us good reason not to rely on shame as a recovery strategy.
A [2019 systematic review](https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30856404/) considered 42 studies. Its meta-analysis found no overall association between shame and the amount of substance use across 14 samples, but did find a small association between shame and substance-related problems across 18 samples. That doesn't prove shame always causes drinking or that compassion alone produces sobriety. It does challenge the assumption that feeling worse about ourselves reliably helps us change.
A [2025 review of 12 studies](https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/40439418/) found that self-compassion-focused interventions improved self-compassion, mindfulness, and depressive symptoms in people with substance use disorders. The studies were generally low quality, and improvements in craving were not statistically significant. So this is promising, not a replacement for addiction care.
My point is simpler: attacking myself wasn't helping me understand myself.
How I stopped drinking, one stretch at a time
When I began, I didn't promise myself forever. I decided not to drink for one week. Then another. Eventually I made it through October and Halloween. Then I decided to make it through the holidays.
I changed some of my routines and limited time around people and situations associated with drinking. I was also fortunate to have a partner who supported me and stopped drinking himself. When I was wavering, I could borrow some of his steadiness until I had more of my own.
That was my path. It isn't a detox or treatment protocol. Alcohol dependence can involve dangerous withdrawal, and the [National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism](https://www.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/brochures-and-fact-sheets/treatment-alcohol-problems-finding-and-getting-help) recommends medical guidance for people who may be physically dependent. Evidence-based treatment can include counseling, medications, and mutual-support programs.
Why getting sober also meant grieving
One of the surprises was grief. If alcohol was hurting me, why would I miss it?
Because something can hurt you and still have meant something to you.
I grieved my wing woman. I grieved the social version of myself I believed she had created. I grieved the time I spent thinking I needed a substance to be acceptable to other people. I grieved the idea that the real me was locked behind a door that only alcohol could open.
Recovery was more than removing a drink. It was changing a relationship—with alcohol, with belonging, and with myself.
Compassion is not permissiveness: learning inner leadership
This is where parts work becomes meaningful to me. I can turn toward the part that wants the old solution and say: I understand what you need. I understand why you learned this. And we're not doing that anymore.
Understanding a behavior doesn't mean endorsing it. Loving ourselves doesn't require letting every impulse make decisions. Some parts need a boundary, not banishment.
Even the inner critic deserves some curiosity. Maybe that harsh voice learned that attacking me first would protect me from being hurt by someone else. But I can understand its history and still say, This is not how we speak to each other in this house—the house that is my body.
I don't want to rule myself through fear. I want to become someone I can trust.
What can replace the experience alcohol seemed to provide?
When we remove something that has been filling a role, we need to consider the space it leaves behind. Not just the missing behavior, but the missing feeling.
What actually makes life pleasurable now? Music that softens something inside you. Pine trees after rain. Sunlight on skin. A weird outfit that makes you happy. Movement, self-touch, beautiful objects, connection. For some neurodivergent people, allowing harmless stimming can also be a welcome form of sensory comfort.
None of this is a cure for addiction. And pleasure doesn't need to become one more assignment we're supposed to perform correctly. It's an invitation to notice what feels nourishing, and to build a life that offers more of it.
I don't want change to mean only deprivation. Sometimes change means finally discovering what we've been trying to give ourselves all along.
A reflection for the part of you that's struggling
If there's a pattern you're fighting, consider asking yourself: What did this once do for me? What feeling or need am I seeking? What are the costs now? What boundary is necessary? What other ways could I meet the real need beneath it?
You don't have to find the answer instantly. You can begin by listening—and still make clear, protective choices.
The goal isn't to become a person who never struggles. It's to build a relationship with yourself grounded in curiosity, boundaries, and love.
Explore The Inner Compass Reset to practice connecting with your own needs, values, and inner wisdom.
My free Inner Magic Method also helps you meet your true feelings and inner wisdom in the moment.
Frequently asked questions
Can shame help someone quit drinking?
Shame isn't a reliable treatment strategy. Research finds a complicated relationship between shame and substance use, including a small association with substance-related problems. Accountability and compassionate support can coexist. For someone with alcohol use disorder, evidence-based medical and behavioral care matters more than any single motivational philosophy.
Why might an autistic or ADHD person use alcohol socially?
Some people describe drinking to reduce self-consciousness, manage social anxiety, or feel less pressure to mask. These motivations are not universal to autistic or ADHD people, and they do not explain every substance-use problem. In my own life, alcohol initially seemed to quiet relentless social self-monitoring.
Is rejection sensitivity dysphoria a medical diagnosis?
RSD is a commonly used term for intense emotional pain around perceived rejection, particularly in ADHD conversations. It is not a standalone DSM diagnosis. I use it to describe how I now understand my own reactions after drinking, not to diagnose anyone listening.
Is self-compassion the same as letting yourself off the hook?
Not at all. Self-compassion can mean recognizing why a behavior developed while setting a firm boundary against repeating it. In my approach to parts work, the feeling and need can be welcomed even when the behavior isn't chosen. Understanding is not permission.
Why do people grieve alcohol after quitting?
A substance can become tied to friendship, rituals, identity, confidence, and imagined possibilities. Letting go may involve mourning those associations as well as changing habits. Grief doesn't mean the decision to stop was wrong; it can mean the relationship had emotional significance.
Can sensory pleasure replace drinking?
Enjoyable sensory experiences may offer comfort and meaningful alternatives to some drinking-related routines, but they are not a substitute for treatment of alcohol use disorder. Building connection, pleasure, and supportive routines can be one part of a broader recovery plan that fits the person's needs.
Is it safe to quit alcohol on your own?
Not always. People who have been drinking heavily for a prolonged period can experience dangerous or life-threatening withdrawal when they stop suddenly. Consult a healthcare professional about a safe plan if dependence is possible. The [NIAAA treatment guide](https://www.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/brochures-and-fact-sheets/treatment-alcohol-problems-finding-and-getting-help) explains treatment and support options.
Full Episode Transcript — Embodied Magic with Melinda
Welcome to the Embodied Magic podcast with Melinda. Before we jump in today, I just want to make a quick note about what we're talking about. I'm going to share some of my personal experience with alcohol and recovery, including a brief mention of suicidality. I'm talking about my own experience here and not prescribing a way to treat addiction. I am a coach and a hypnotist.
I am not a doctor, psychologist, therapist or addiction specialist. Coaching and hypnosis are motivational and change work tools they are not substitutes for medical, psychological or addiction treatment. And if you are struggling with substance dependence, suicidal thoughts or anything that needs clinical support, please work with an appropriately qualified professional. This episode is really about something broader. How are we relating to the parts of ourselves that keep doing things that we desperately want them to change or stop doing?
And why do we think that shame is going to make the change happen? Because if shame was an effective way to change, we would have already been able to change these things about ourselves that we've hated for so long. Instead, a lot of us have patterns we've been fighting for years. We say, why do I keep doing this? What is wrong with me?
I know better than to keep doing this. I should be able to control this. And then we decide that maybe if we're just a little bit meaner to ourselves this time, we'll finally get the message. And I don't think that is how lasting change works. That is not what I have witnessed in my personal life and my work with clients and students.
One of the foundational ideas in the way that I approach change work is that I don't want to begin from the idea that I need to change myself in order to make myself better, more palatable or more lovable. We want to begin from the idea that I want to know and understand and accept myself so deeply. And that doesn't mean that every behavior that we have that we accept gets to stay. It doesn't mean that we think that everything that we do is healthy. And it doesn't mean that there aren't things that we absolutely need to change.
It means that before I try to rip a pattern of behavior or a part of myself up by the roots. I want to know why has this been growing here for so long? What has this been doing for me? Because human beings don't generally keep repeating behaviors for no reason at all. There was some point at which this thing that you're doing worked for you.
Maybe it created pleasure or relief or comfort or the sense of safety or belonging that you truly needed. Maybe it gave you five minutes where something inside of you finally got to be quiet. And if I understand that, I understand how it's working and why it's working. I have a much more clear picture about what actually needs to change, and maybe some parts of it that need to stay. This is where I think pleasure becomes a really interesting part of the change work because sometimes we're focused so much on removing the thing that we don't want.
The thing that gives us the pain that we never ask, what am I going to replace this with? And what is going to fill the void once this pattern has been removed? Not just the behavior but the experience of life. What did it feel like? What was it giving me?
And what else could give me the same version of that that I wasn't seeking before? And where can I instill a motivation to seek that new healthier replacement for the original behavior? So this is something that I really understand on a personal level through my relationship with alcohol. And I am coming up on nine years of being sober in October. And I just wanted to talk about that a little bit because it's kind of an interesting story.
I started drinking when I was 18 and it was with my family and I got introduced to it through this sense of this is something that makes me belong. And so I drank from the time that I was 18 until I was 33. And I want to be very clear before I get into this too deeply that I'm not saying that addiction is simply a bad habit that you can think your way out of. Addiction is much more complicated than habit change. And my story is not a treatment protocol.
But understanding what alcohol had come to represent for me became an important part of my recovery and my overall journey of healing and becoming more of myself. Because when I found alcohol, I found something that felt like a magical portal into who I wanted to be. And at the time, I didn't know that I am autistic and ADHD. I didn't have any context for that in my life. It was nowhere near on my radar.
But what I knew was that the social interactions that I had always had throughout my life felt difficult and awkward in a way that I could never understand or explain to myself because I didn't have the understanding of my neurodivergence. I constantly, constantly questioned and berated myself. I questioned the things that I said, how I acted, my facial expressions, my body posture, the clothes that I wore, everything. It felt like everyone else in the world had gotten some kind of instruction manual that I just didn't have and I had to interpret myself. And then at the age of 18, suddenly there appeared the invitation of alcohol.
And it became this doorway that helped me to just simply walk through it and I could stop thinking about all these little things that I said and did in every moment. I could put down some of my masks. I could talk, feel natural. I could feel like I was connected. I felt like this social butterfly version of myself that I had always wanted to be but never knew how to step into.
And so alcohol really became like my best friend, like my wing woman. I couldn't do socializing without it. And for a long time, I experienced her almost like a medicine. And that way of framing it in my brain is what really mattered because when I was trying to stop drinking all those years later, it I wasn't experiencing it internally as why won't I stop consuming this substance that's hurting me? Of course, part of me felt like that.
But other parts of me were saying why would you take away this thing that helps us to be who we want to be? Why would you take away this thing that lets me belong for the first time and helps me relax around people and uncomfortable situations when I need to go and be on and be performing myself? This is the only thing that can help me feel normal. And that doesn't mean that alcohol was actually giving me those things. It wasn't.
And it took me a really long time to accept and realize that that was the truth. I would wake up after a night of having drank and just absolutely torture myself about all the things that I had said and done the night before. What had felt like regulation to me in the moment was ultimately incredibly dysregulating to me the next day and the week following. What had felt like connection in the moment? It wasn't creating that real deep authentic connection that I actually craved and valued.
And eventually my relationship with alcohol started to become dangerous enough that I knew I had to stop. I had reached a place where I was afraid that if I continued down that path I was going to just destroy all my most meaningful relationships and may end up continuing to put myself into dangerous situations in which I would actually get hurt. So something had to change. I knew that. I knew that the rejection sensitivity dysphoria that I had experienced every day and weeks, days after I would drink was so emotionally and psychologically debilitating to me.
I didn't realize it was RSD at the time because I didn't know anything about neurodivergence, but now looking back I can see how it wasn't just your everyday hangover that like, I kind of feel like I may have embarrassed myself a little bit. No, it was crushing RSD. And I knew that I was going to potentially hurt myself if I didn't make this stop and overcome it once and for all. So one of the things that helped me to make the change was understanding that underneath the drinking were the needs and values that were completely real. The things that I had been actually getting from the relationship with the alcohol.
I wanted connection and acceptance to feel like I belonged in a group and to feel seen and understood. I wanted to be able to just exist and be myself, feel like it was being myself around other people without constant self monitoring, the self monitoring of socializing before the alcohol was excruciating. But then after having gotten into that long-term relationship with the alcohol and experiencing the RSD, that is what became the catalysts like, okay, I can no longer survive this self monitoring after the drinking. So that's what really broke the relationship for me. It wasn't the needs that were the problem, the needs to connect and feel loved and belong.
The way that I was trying to meet those needs was the problem and that distinction was what I finally came to realize that actually helped me quit. At that point, I was able to change the association that I had built with alcohol. I had to stop experiencing it as medicine and begin seeing it as what it actually was, a poison. It was poisoning my life, my creativity, poisoning my relationships, poisoning my ability to see myself clearly. And I could recognize that while also having compassion for the version of me who believed for years that it was the medicine, I didn't have to hate that version of myself, the younger me that really needed that.
I understood why she wanted it and I understood why she thought that she needed it. But I was still able to finally say, I'm not going to do this anymore. And that's a really important distinction in the way I think about self-love. Compassion doesn't mean permissiveness. Understanding behavior doesn't mean that you endorse it.
There are things that we can understand completely and still draw a hard boundary around. And that's just leadership. That's inner-reparenting. And I think that sometimes when people hear parts work or self-compassion, they're imagining we're supposed to sit around and endlessly just validate every impulse we have. And that's not what I'm talking about.
I'm talking about being able to turn towards yourself and say, I understand why you're here. I understand what you're trying to do. I understand what you need. And I really thank you for your service here. I thank you for the ways that you have helped me to meet this in the past.
And it's no longer working for me. It's actually hurting me. And I know that your intention is good and your intention is to help me survive and thrive. So let's find another way together. You have skills that you have worked on to develop over the years.
And I have a vision for the future. So let's see how we can work together to make this new path possible. That's really what it's about. And so when I was quitting alcohol, the method that I used to do it that I came up with was saying, I'm not going to drink for this week. For one week, I'm not going to drink.
And I would make the goal to make it through the weekend without drinking. And then I would come up on the beginning of the week. And I would say again, okay, I'm going to not drink for another week. And after a couple weeks, I was feeling more clear headed. And I said, okay, I'm not going to drink until the end of October, until after Halloween.
That was a big trigger for me. So I set the goal. I'm not going to drink till the end of October. That worked out. And it was challenging because I was still around the same people.
I was still doing some of the same things, not going to the bar or anything like that, but still around the same people that I drank with. But I definitely had to start limiting my contact there. And so then I decided I would go until the end of the year, until after the holidays. And that was a huge test. Like, can I do this?
Can I make it through the holidays going to visit family and not drink? And I did it. And so then I just set bigger and bigger goals for myself. And at some point, I realized, okay, I don't have to do this anymore. But during that time frame, there was a huge grief, especially in the beginning phase when I would be going to celebratory events or just feeling stressed at the end of the day, there was a separation period.
There was this grief that I had to experience. And I think that's something that we don't always acknowledge when we're changing something that has been hurting us. We think if this was bad for me, then why should I be sad about letting it go? That's weird, you know? Because something can hurt you and it can still have meant something to you.
To me, alcohol was literally, it was like a friend to me. That's what it felt like internally. And so I was grieving that that I believed it had helped me to become someone who I wanted to be. I was grieving the idea that I needed it in order to access that version of myself. I was grieving the time that I lost thinking that that's who I actually was.
Thinking that alcohol was the key that opened the door to the person that I was really supposed to be. That's what I had believed before. That alcohol was some kind of access to my true self. And I was grieving the time that I had spent believing that I needed something outside of myself to make me palatable to other people in the world. So recovery for me wasn't just don't drink alcohol.
There was a whole relationship there with the substance that had to change. I was bonded with it. And I was incredibly fortunate to have support at that time. I was with a partner who supported me completely through getting sober and even stopped drinking himself because that was what I needed around me. I needed that constant solid support, someone else who could clearly choose in those moments for me when I was like, Hey, I'm really feeling like I need this.
What do you think? And he would just say, No, you don't need this. I'm here with you. And that gave me that solid foundation that I needed to access on the outside before I could access that for myself on the inside. There were changes to my environment that had to be made.
Changes to my regular routines and what I did changes to how I understood myself and the way that I viewed that substance. And eventually years later discovering my neurotype gave me another huge piece of the story. And even now nine years later when I am sometimes still triggered to be desiring alcohol when I look at it through the lens of my neurotype, it helps me remain in solid choice with myself over saying no. And I realized when I discovered that I am ADHD like, Oh, there was a reason that socializing has always felt somewhat excruciating for me when I'm socializing with people of different neurotypes. And it was not only my neurotype, but the self-judgment around how I am.
So my recursive way of talking, my associative dolphin thinking ADHD brain that is just so delightful to me is not delightful to everyone. And my self-judgment around that before was just what really made alcohol like, Oh, this is the thing that is just going to make me normal, right? So there was a reason that I had been working so hard. And I could finally have compassion for my inner 18 year old who had discovered something that seemed to make everything just miraculously easier without deciding that I needed to keep using alcohol as the solution. And this is the point in the story where I come back to shame because whatever you're trying to change, and I'm deliberately not talking here about a particular diagnosis or telling you how to treat a particular condition, I think there's a question worth asking.
What happens inside of me when I attack the part of me that's struggling? Does it actually become more capable or more flexible or more willing to trust me? Or does it become more desperate? More sneaky? Because the way we banish and punish parts of ourselves, they have nowhere else to go.
They need another path. And sometimes creating that path takes time. Self-impathy is a learned skill, especially if it wasn't demonstrated to you. So maybe when something isn't going the way you want it to go, instead of immediately going to, "Gah, what the fuck is wrong with me?" We practice something else. "Hey, what are you feeling right now?
What do you need? What were you hoping this was going to give you? I am here to listen to you, and I really want to understand, not because I just want to change you, but because I want to learn to love you." And then we listen. We listen with our inner ears, our feelings, our intuitive knowings. It doesn't mean that the answer automatically determines what we do next, or even that we hear an answer at all in the moment.
And sometimes the answer we get might still be the unhealthy choice, and so we still have to live in leadership with these parts of ourselves that are wanting us, asking us to choose the unhealthy path. We can validate that part of ourselves, validate the feelings, validate the needs, and still choose the healthier path. But we're gathering information instead of issuing a punishment. And on that note, that harsh voice that wants to issue that punishment, the one that is screaming at you, that is a part of you too, usually. It may have learned that criticism is how we keep ourselves in line.
Maybe that humiliation is the thing that helps us improve ourselves. Maybe if it attacks you before anyone else gets the chance to, somehow you'll be safer. So I don't necessarily want to banish that part of you that is that inner critic either. They also have some value and some insight into what you need, but we need to give it a boundary. We might have to say, this is not how we speak to each other.
Maybe it was okay in the house that I grew up in to talk that way, but it's not okay here in my house. In the house that is me, the house that is my body. You get to live in this house, but you don't get to abuse the other parts of me that live here. Because this is the relationship I'm trying to build with myself now. Not one where there are no boundaries, not one where every impulse just runs wild, not one where I pretend that harmful things aren't harmful.
That's not how it goes in this house. But also, it's not one ruled by fear and punishment. I want to become someone who is in a world I can trust, who I can relax in. And I think pleasure belongs in that relationship. Because pleasure is one of the main things that we're seeking in things like alcohol addiction.
Healthy sensory pleasure replacing the removal of that old habit can really create a softer place to land. Things like music that makes something inside of you just soften in delight. Things like going outside and smelling the smell of the pine trees on the earth, feeling the sunlight on your skin, moving your body in ways that feel good, wearing that weird outfit that just makes you feel happy. Things like self-touch and comfort, looking at beautiful objects, connection. And if you're neurodivergent like myself, maybe it's allowing yourself some of the harmless stimming sensory experiences that you learn to suppress because somebody taught you that they made you look strange.
Bringing out that stimming is so important for regulating our nervous system. And it's deeply pleasurable. What actually feels good in your body now that you are letting go of this other unhealthy choice. What helps you feel safe here? What makes this life feel like something that you want to live?
Not just another demand. Not creating pleasure as another prescription for how to heal something like, okay now I have to figure out how to do pleasure the right way. No, this is just how can I make myself feel good with the healthy things in life and get back to activating the senses in my body that I actually had been numbing before through this substance or this behavior that I chose to numb with. It's resensitizing yourself to the simple beauties. And teaching yourself to remember that you deserve these good things because change doesn't always have to be about taking something away from ourselves.
Sometimes it's about discovering what we've been trying to give ourselves all along and learning new ways to give that to ourselves. So if there's something that you're struggling to change maybe the first question isn't how do I make myself stop doing this? Maybe it's what has this been doing for me all along? And then how can I help myself get more of what I actually need and value? Because these parts of us don't need a dictator, they need a leader and boundaries and clear choices and they need someone willing to hear what they're trying to say without automatically handing them the keys to the car or a punishment.
They are seeking leadership from you and leadership in love, not in dictatorship. And I think that's the practice, not becoming a person who never struggles but becoming someone that you can trust to meet yourself with curiosity, boundaries and love. So whatever part of you you've been fighting lately, maybe you don't have to solve it today. Maybe you can just begin with listening. I appreciate you spending time with me today to embody your magic, to download my free inner magic method, access the resources mentioned in this episode and learn more about my work head on over to MelindaloveCoach.com/podcast.
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