The Four Definitions of Sobriety - And Why We Need All of Them
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Addiction is not a Straight Line
Recovery communities love simple rules:
Don’t drink
Don’t use
Don’t alter your mind
That simplicity saved lives — mine included.
But simplicity becomes cruelty when it’s weaponized.
The truth is: Not everyone’s brain heals the same way.
Not everyone’s trauma is the same.
Not every nervous system responds to the same medicine.
If we pretend there’s only “one true path,” we don’t protect people.
We exclude them.
And when addicts feel excluded, they don’t argue.
They relapse quietly.
They disappear.
They die.
I’ve seen it.
Many of you reading this have too.
What We Call “Sobriety” Isn’t One Thing
We use one word to describe four different realities, and it creates confusion, shame, fights, and lost lives. Not everyone fits into the same box and not everyone in a certain box will stay there perpetually.
Let’s name them honestly.
1. Clinical Abstinence
This is the medical definition:
No intoxicating substances. Period.
It is hard.
It is clean.
It is binary.
And for some people, it is the only thing that stands between them and a coffin.
If alcohol or opiates turned your brain into a loaded gun,
then abstinence isn’t a “virtue.”
It’s survival.
I respect it.
I’ve lived it.
But here’s the problem:
Much of the treatment world tries to drag everyone into this category.
And when people don’t fit, we label them:
weak
selfish
not real addicts
not working a program
Clinical sobriety is black and white: use and die. For people in active addiction, that level of clarity is lifesaving. I was here once - that approach saved my life. But I am not there anymore. Most people are more complicated than 'all or nothing' answers.
2. Program Sobriety
This is AA/NA philosophy:
No mind-altering chemicals of any kind.
Not because cannabis is “evil.”
Not because mushrooms are “sinful.”
But because addiction isn’t just about substances —
Addiction is the behavior that surrounds the substance.
Chasing escape.
Lying to yourself.
Hiding pain.
Numbing.
Avoiding accountability.
If the brain is wired for compulsion,
even a gentle drug can re-open the door.
This is why the Big Book treats everything as dangerous.
It’s not moralism.
It’s pattern recognition.
3. Functional Sobriety
The part nobody talks about because it doesn’t fit the church of abstinence.
If your life works, your relationships are intact, and you aren’t self-destructing…
you are recovering.
Some people can:
use cannabis for pain and stress
therapeutically microdose psilocybin
drink once a month socially
…and never spiral into the abyss.
Others can’t even take NyQuil without their brain planning a relapse.
Both people deserve a seat in the circle.
If we say:
“Only these people count”
“Only this path is correct”
“Only this language is valid”
Then recovery becomes a country club,
not a refuge.
4. Spiritual Sobriety
This is the thing AA gets right — maybe better than any other movement in America.
Sobriety is not just the absence of chemicals.
It’s:
the presence of honesty and accountability,
the presence of humility,
the presence of purpose,
the willingness to serve others.
You can be abstinent and spiritually drunk:
full of ego
full of resentment
full of superiority
You can be “clean” and still live like a coward. I lived cowardly like this for years. Here's a secret - IT'S FOR THE BIRDS!
And you can be imperfect, flawed, and struggling —
and still walk toward truth, God, and responsibility.
That’s sobriety.
Why This Topic Is Dangerous
Because people don’t hear nuance.
Addicts hear loopholes.
You say:
“Some people use cannabis responsibly.”
They hear:
“I can drink a little.”
You say:
“Mushrooms helped my depression.”
They hear:
“I can do coke once.”
This is why rigid programs exist:
Not to oppress —
but to protect the impulsive and the dying.
Some people need guardrails.
Some people need strict doctrine.
Some people need zero-tolerance to survive another day.
I respect that.
And nothing I’m writing here is meant to weaken it. I simply want to find a more exclusive measure.
The Problem With “All or Nothing”
It leaves people out.
It tells the guy with chronic pain:
“Choose between agony or relapse.”
It tells the mother with trauma:
“Choose between nightmares or failure.”
It tells the veteran with PTSD:
“Choose between panic attacks or being ‘unclean.’”
And when people don’t fit the mold,
they don’t ask questions.
They don’t debate.
They don’t raise their hand in the meeting.
They just quit coming.
They carry shame quietly until it kills them mentally, emotionally, spiritually and then physically.
My Story
I struggled with depression and anxiety for years without understanding why. I quickly learned alcohol could hide those things and spent most of my early 20's chasing it. THat lead to 3 'getaways' at 30 day, inpatient treatment centers. I tried to do it my own way until the third trip. Then I finally realized what I was, started listening to others who had been successful and l and went to CA.
I was 20-something.
They were relatable.
They spoke the language of people like me.
I got a sponsor.
I worked all 12 steps.
And I still believe to this day:
Everyone alive should do the 12 Steps at least once.
It is spiritual weightlifting.
Admit your limits.
Surrender what you can’t control.
Clean your side of the street.
Make amends.
Serve.
Those are universal human truths —
not just addiction tools.
Tough Love Works — But Not For Everyone
Some people need a drill sergeant.
Others need a mentor.
Others need a community.
Most need all 3. Like me.
Recovery is like therapy, fitness, faith, fatherhood:
There is no one-size-fits-all.
If you try to force everyone into one mold,
you’re not helping—
you’re creating shame factories.
And shame is gasoline on addiction.
What I Believe
I don’t drink.
I don’t use hard drugs.
I haven’t since April 18, 2017. I thank God everyday my family sees me without alcohol.
I do use hemp.
Not to escape.
Not to self-destruct.
Not to numb my life.
I use it the way some people use:
pain relievers
sleep meds
anti-anxiety meds
It helps my mind and body reset. Its not perfect, but it works for me better than what I have tried in the past.
If that disqualifies me from your definition of “sober,”
I accept that.
Because I’m not trying to impress gatekeepers.
I’m trying to live a life worth being present for.
My Promise to Anyone Reading
I will never tell you:
“Go drink.”
“Go use.”
“You’ll be fine.”
I will never tell a heroin addict:
“You can just smoke weed.”
I will never encourage shortcuts to hell.
But I am done pretending that the doorway to recovery
only fits one body type.
You are welcome here if your goal is to heal.
You are welcome here if you:
use nothing
use something carefully
are in active addiction
are terrified
are ashamed
are trying
are slipping
are climbing back
I’m not interested in gates.
I’m interested in conversations.
Closing
The goal isn’t perfection.
The goal is to stop dying quietly alone or in places you fear to enter.
The 12 steps taught me something the world keeps forgetting:
Find God.
Surrender control.
Help others.
If you are doing that,
you are on the path regardless of where you find it.
And that path is wide enough for every person who refuses to give up on themselves.
Clean Mind. Healthy Body. Full Soul.
We are all in this together. Love Each Other. Lift Each Other Up. Keep Life Eazy