From Sobriety to Recovery: How I Took My Power Back Through the Pause

My sober date is 9-22-22. Before that, I drank for thirty years.

Toward the end, I was at a point where I wanted to stop—but couldn’t. That’s a hard place to explain unless you’ve been there. The desire is real, but so is the grip. You start to see what needs to change, but you don’t yet have the ability to change it. Around that time, I found Daniel Patterson on TikTok. There’s a large recovery community there, and something about the way he spoke cut through the noise for me. I wasn’t sober yet—but I was listening. Watching. Thinking. In a way, that was the beginning. He helped me believe it was possible to get where I eventually got.

When I finally stopped drinking, sobriety was simple in theory, but not easy in practice. It was about getting through the day. Holding the line. But even early on, I noticed something that had been true for a long time: I didn’t know how to pause. When I was drinking, I reacted quickly—to stress, to conflict, to emotion. I gave away my power in those moments because I wasn’t choosing my responses—I was reacting. That awareness was already there. Sobriety just made it impossible to ignore.

Early in my sobriety, I reconnected with that same community and officially joined on my 100th day— January 1st, 2023.

That was my first real experience with connection in sobriety. Being around people who understood what I was going through helped me slow down. It reinforced something I had already started to see: If I could learn to pause, I could start to take my power back. 

Six months into sobriety, I started therapy. That’s when things began to shift from sobriety into recovery. Therapy gave me tools. It gave me language. It helped me understand not just that I was reacting, but why. Around that same time, I started leaning into stoicism—focusing on maintaining an emotional baseline instead of riding constant highs and lows. That’s where “the pause” became something intentional. The pause shows up in my life in simple ways: - Stopping to think before reacting- Physically stepping away from a situation- Not responding to a text for hours—or even days.

And sometimes, it shows up at a gas pump.

After you insert your card, there’s always a delay before the pump is ready. The instinct is to squeeze the handle right away—and you get that dreaded clunk. Nothing happens. I use that moment as a reminder. Pause. Wait. Be ready. It’s a small thing, but that’s the point. I practice the pause in everyday moments so it’s there when it actually matters. Because those small moments are where it’s built. You don’t suddenly gain control in high-pressure situations. You fall back on what you’ve trained. And for me, training the pause became part of daily life.

In that space between stimulus and response, I found something I didn’t have before: Choice.

The original community I joined eventually dissolved, but a few of us stayed connected. Out of that, we created something new: Recovery Unbroken.

That group became more than support—it became a lifeline.

A place where honesty mattered.

Where showing up mattered.

Where you didn’t have to pretend you had it all together.

And at one point, I really didn’t. 2 In the summer of 2024, I found myself in a battle with major depression, high anxiety, and eventually suicidal thoughts.

It didn’t happen overnight. It built slowly, then all at once. That period tested everything. But it also showed me what I had built—and who I had around me.

My wife showed up for me.

My kids showed up for me.

My friends in Recovery Unbroken showed up for me.

My therapist showed up for me.

And with their support, I made the decision to enter a Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP). That decision likely saved my life.

Today, recovery means something very different to me than it did in the beginning. It’s not just about staying sober. It’s about awareness. It’s about discipline. It’s about connection. It’s about not isolating when things get hard. It’s about keeping my power.

And for me, that all comes back to the pause. That moment between what happens to you and how you respond—that’s where everything changes.

I still practice it every day.

Not because I have to. But because I know what happens when I don’t.

Sobriety got me started. Recovery is what’s keeping me here. And none of it was built alone.

If you’re in that place where you want to stop but feel like you can’t—I was there too.