Being a teen in the early 00’s
On sobriety and ADHD; where I bring myself to tears thinking about Teenage Rikki and how she deserved better
CW: This post includes thoughts on addiction, recovery and suicidal ideation. Please care for yourself first and foremost before proceeding.
I saw a reel on Facebook (yes, I still end up on Facebook, no, I don’t like it) the other day and it was talking about why everyone was sober now. It was refreshing to see the person’s take on it, how it was messed up to go to an event just to see how drunk you could get. Honestly, when I look at my creativity and how I have nurtured it since I gave up drinking, I can see that I was drowning in apathy. I drank to not care, and it totally worked…for a long time. It started when I was a teenager.
When you’re a teenager, at least in the early 00’s, it isn’t cool to care about things. It isn’t considered interesting to like art or fantasy novels or reading LOTR fan fiction. At least, I wasn’t aware of anyone else in my small Midwestern town doing these things. In my social life I was one person, and at home I would transform back into myself. It was uncomfortable to be hyper-aware of every sensation when at a football game or the movies. It was exhausting to my little neurodivergent brain to try and keep track of all the self-imposed rules of what was considered fun behavior around my peers.
The more boys noticed me and the further along I went into puberty, the easier it was to pretend like the home-version of myself didn’t exist. Sure, I would still stay up late on the weekends on my computer working on the beginning to what I believed would be an epic romance novel (it wasn’t), but mostly I was dragged elsewhere. My attention was held by other things.
When I theoretically should have been getting excited about college, I began panicking. I knew the people I was friends with essentially my whole life. I couldn’t just start over somewhere else. Of course, as a “gifted kid” I couldn’t express these feelings — I made it a point to come off prepared and excited, even a little bored at such a big upcoming life change.
Then the drinking started. I somehow avoided it most of high school, but when it started I went hard. I wanted to see what the big deal was. My first experience with alcohol poisoning was downing a bunch of Jäegermeister before my friend drove us to her boyfriends’ apartment. I spent the whole night throwing up and crying on the phone. It was a disaster.
But I noticed something during that time, and especially the in-between moments. Things were quiet in my head. For once, I wasn’t contemplating how I was supposed to act and what was socially acceptable. I was just lost in the moment. I was free.
I had some “successful” nights with alcohol after this. Successful means that I was drunk and not throwing up, of course. I was flowing in the social scene around me. It felt natural. I felt connected to people in a way I hadn’t truly felt in a while, if ever.
I started to become anxious when I discovered weekend plans didn’t involve drinking. I started doing everything I could to change that. As long as we were drinking, we were all on a common ground. Honestly, I had good friends. They didn’t know that I was already dealing with the idea that alcoholism runs in my family. They obviously didn’t know how it felt as though I’d been living a double life since I was like…10.
By the time I got to college, I was started the slow descent into serious depression. I didn’t realize yet that I had a very real desire to die. I moved beyond just drinking. I took everything that was offered. I felt glimpses of connection, but mainly I was just knocking myself out so I didn’t have to feel anything.
While there are several things that can be pointed to as to what “went wrong,” I know that my experience has shown me that living in an individualistic society makes periods of transition much harder than they should be. I think I wanted to be taken under someone’s wing. I think I wanted a much more personalized way to learn. I wanted to connect with people over art and spirituality and weird niche interests. I craved initiation into something greater. I wanted to know that there were others who cared. I wanted to feel as though it was safe to care.
Now, I am much older. I spent 10 years in active addiction. My 7th sober birthday will be on December 11 of this year. I am lucky to have small pockets of space where I connect with people over common interests. Sometimes I can imagine the different winding paths I could have taken had I been going through this time and was more familiar with the online resources. And sometimes I let my Inner Teen imagine that I am still 18, feet itching with a readiness to go while my heart longs to stay put.
I would tell her it’s okay to carve a path that doesn’t involve extensive travel. I would encourage her to take the weird classes and workshops, even if she had to pull pocket change out of the sofa to do so. I would tell her it’s okay to not go straight to college. I would tell her to pick up a damn pen and write her heart out.
I have provided here the 2nd issue of SCRAPS, as well as two printables. Trying to mix up what I am providing here and as always the printables are a lesson in tech. Tag me on IG if you choose to share; for personal use only loves.
If you missed it, I am revamping prompts for the Iridescent Explorations creative journey! Check out this post to begin.
I’d love to start reading more books about artists, specifically abstract artists. Can you leave me some recommendations in the comments? I also enjoy books about creative practice, and the intersection of creativity and spirituality. I am slowly making my way (still) through The Artist’s Way. Perhaps I will share as I read about these different creative geniuses.
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🩷 I enjoyed learning more about your experience and reading your thoughts 🩷 hope to spend more time over here now that I can *focus* enough to actually read 🙃