Books & Publications | Ohio Resource Library for AUD and OUD

Quit Like a Woman

Holly Whitaker

Disappoint other people with your no; don’t disappoint yourself with a yes you’ll later resent.

The Unexpected Joy of Being Sober: Discovering a happy, healthy, wealthy alcohol-free life

Catherine Gray

One of my sober friends once said, ‘Feelings are like children. You don’t want them driving the car, but you shouldn’t stuff them in the boot either.’ Let them chit-chatter away in the back, and get on with your life. Amazing, right?

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This Naked Mind: Control Alcohol, Find Freedom, Discover Happiness & Change Your Life

Annie Grace

3:33 a.m. I wake up at the same time every night. I briefly wonder if that is supposed to mean something. Probably not, probably just a coincidence. I know what’s coming, and I brace myself. The usual thoughts begin to surface. I try to piece the previous evening together, attempting to count my drinks. I count five glasses of wine, and then the memories grow fuzzy. I know I had a few more, but I’ve now lost count. I wonder how anyone can drink so much. I know I can’t go on like this. I start to worry about my health, beginning the well-trodden road of fear and recrimination: What were you thinking? Don’t you care about anything? Anyone? How will it feel if you end up with cancer? It will serve you right. What about the kids? Can’t you stop for the kids? Or Brian? They love you. There’s no good reason why, but they do. Why are you so weak? So stupid? If I can just make myself see the horror of how far I’ve fallen, maybe I can regain control. Next come the vows, my promises to myself to do things differently tomorrow. To fix this. Promises I never keep.

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Living Sober

Anonymous

Living Sober

Narcotics Anonymous

Anonymous

Every time I draw a clean breath, I'm like a fish out of water.

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Alcoholics Anonymous (The Big Book)

Alcoholics Anonymous

And acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing, or situation "some fact of my life" unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing, or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.

"Tweak" by Nic Sheff

Nic Sheff

It's like if the music is loud enough I won't be able to listen to my own thoughts.

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"Drinking: A Love Story" by Caroline Knapp

Caroline Knapp

I loved the way drink made me feel, and I loved its special power of deflection, its ability to shift my focus away from my own awareness of self and onto something else, something less painful than my own feelings. I loved the sounds of drink: the slide of a cork as it eased out of a wine bottle, the distinct glug-glug of booze pouring into a glass, the clatter of ice cubes in a tumbler. I loved the rituals, the camaraderie of drinking with others, the warming, melting feelings of ease and courage it gave me.

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"Parched" by Heather King

Heather King

I had no idea what time I’d left, how I’d gotten home, who’d been up here, and how long he, she, or they had stayed. Another night, added to the hundreds that had gone before, shrouded in mystery. Really, when you thought about it, it was creepy. My own life was a secret to me.

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"Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget" by Sarah Hepola

Sarah Hepola

In the fall of 1993, the accidental lumberjack look was like a uniform at UT. I'd borrowed a gray flannel shirt and jeans flecked with paint from my father, and I loved how those jeans slid down my hips. I had to keep yanking them up, like a tiny girl in a giant's clothes. I tied the flannel shirt around my waist, which was a casual camouflage for my college weight gain. It's a little hot in here. I think I'll just completely block your view of my ass.

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"Dry" by Augusten Burroughs

Augusten Burroughs

When I was thirteen, my crazy mother gave me away to her lunatic psychiatrist, who adopted me. I then lived a life of squalor, pedophiles, no school and free pills. When I finally escaped, I presented myself to advertising agencies as a self-educated, slightly eccentric youth, filled with passion, bursting with ideas. I left out the fact that I didn't know how to spell or that I had been giving blowjobs since I was thirteen.

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"Lit" by Mary Karr

Mary Karr

Before the rehearsal dinner, I'm lying in a shampoo chair with my head in the black sink, neck arched upward in a perfect positionto have my throat cut, and I catch a distant whiff of marijuana. Mother, I think. With that single word, an unease comes shimmering into my solar plexus. My stylist, Richard, who's been vigorously scrubbing my scalp, twists my soapy hair into a unicorn horn, saying, Maybe you should wear it like this down the aisle. I interrupt him, rising up. Do you smell that? I say. What? he says. Pot, I say. Lifting his nose in the air, he gives a stuffed-up snuffle, then says, Allergies.

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