How Do I Raw Dog Work Life Again?
Dear Brewtiful,
Okay. I’m just going to say it.
I’ve developed a habit.
It started small. A rum and coke at lunch. A little THC in the morning. Then again at noon. Then again at night. Nothing dramatic. Nothing “I’m on Intervention” worthy. I’m not blackout drunk in a ditch somewhere. I’m not losing my job. I’m not slurring in meetings.
I’m just… constantly slightly not sober.
And now I’m noticing something.
I’m starting to need it.
I’ve reached the point where being fully sober feels like showing up to work naked. Like I’m exposed. Like I can’t handle reality without taking the edge off first.
But the weird part is, I’ve done sobriety before.
I’ve raw dogged life before. I know I can do it. I’ve proven I can.
So why does it feel impossible now?
I want to stop. I need to stop. I’m not doing this because it’s fun anymore. I’m doing it because it’s become routine. Because I don’t know what else to do with myself. Because it makes the day softer.
But I’m done.
I want to be sharp again. Clear. Present. Ready for anything and everything. I want to stop needing something just to exist.
I want to raw dog it at work and actually mean it.
I need a plan that doesn’t feel like I’m climbing Everest barefoot. Something realistic. Something I’ll actually stick to long-term, because honestly… I don’t have a choice anymore.
Help.
Sincerely,
Functioning But Not Fooling Anyone
Dear Functioning But Not Fooling Anyone,
First of all, thank you for being honest. You didn’t sugarcoat it. You didn’t romanticize it. You didn’t wrap it in cute wellness language like “I’ve been leaning into escapism.”
You said what it is.
Lunch rum and coke. THC on a schedule. A slow drift into chemical buffering.
And if I’m being blunt, this isn’t even unusual anymore. It’s practically a corporate benefit.
But here’s the part you need to hear, clearly and without fluff:
The fact that you’re scared is a good sign.
Because you’re not in denial. You’re not pretending it’s harmless. You’re not bargaining with yourself like, “Well at least I’m not doing cocaine in the bathroom like Chad from Accounting.”
You’ve already crossed the most important line: you see the pattern.
And now you want out.
Which means you’re already halfway there.
Now let’s talk about why this feels impossible even though you’ve done it before.
Because This Time, You’re Not Quitting a Habit. You’re Quitting a Coping Strategy.
A bad habit is something you can swap out.
Like doomscrolling. Like biting your nails. Like texting your ex.
But what you described isn’t just a habit. It’s a system. A routine you built to manage your nervous system, your stress, your emotions, and your ability to function in a world that is increasingly unhinged.
You didn’t become dependent because you’re weak.
You became dependent because it worked.
It helped you stay calm. It helped you get through work. It helped you soften reality. It helped you not feel everything all at once.
And now your brain has filed it under: Required for survival.
That’s why the idea of going sober feels like stepping into fluorescent lighting with no makeup, no armour, no buffer, no escape route.
You’re not just quitting rum and THC.
You’re quitting the version of yourself that had a shortcut out of discomfort.
That’s why it feels like grief.
Because it is.
The Good News: You Don’t Need Willpower. You Need a New System.
Here’s the problem with most sobriety advice:
It’s built around discipline fantasies.
People love to say things like:
“Just stop.”
“Make a decision.”
“Choose yourself.”
“Get through the first week.”
Which is cute, but also useless.
You don’t need motivation.
You need a plan that makes sobriety feel less like punishment and more like a lifestyle you can tolerate long enough to normalize.
So here’s your plan. Not a perfect plan. Not a Pinterest plan.
A plan that actually works for people who have jobs, stress, cravings, and a brain that loves shortcuts.
Step 1: Stop Trying to Quit Forever. Quit for 7 Days.
I know you said you need something you’ll stick to forever.
But the truth is, your brain cannot emotionally handle “forever” right now.
Forever feels like a prison sentence.
And when something feels like a prison sentence, you rebel. You panic. You sabotage. You negotiate. You start thinking things like:
“Well maybe I can just do THC on weekends.”
Or, “Maybe I can just have a drink if it’s been a hard day.”
Or, “Maybe I can quit next Monday when I’m more stable and the stars align.”
Spoiler: the stars never align. They’re busy.
So instead of forever, your only goal is this:
Seven days.
Not “I’m sober now.”
Just: I’m running a 7-day reset.
Make it feel like an experiment, not a funeral.
Step 2: Remove the Lunch Trigger First (Because It’s the Most Dangerous One)
Lunch drinking is different than evening drinking.
Lunch drinking is “I need relief before the day is even over.”
It’s also the one that will quietly destroy your work performance without you noticing until you’re in trouble.
So your first non-negotiable is this:
No alcohol before 5 p.m.
Even if you don’t quit alcohol immediately, you start here.
Because lunchtime drinking is basically your brain saying: I can’t tolerate being conscious in this environment.
And if that’s the case, then sobriety isn’t the only thing you need.
It’s also boundaries.
But we’ll get to that.
For now, we do the obvious fix first: stop feeding the midday spiral.
Step 3: Replace THC With a “Buffer Ritual” (Not Nothing)
The mistake people make is thinking sobriety means removing substances and replacing them with “strength.”
No.
Sobriety means removing substances and replacing them with structure.
Your THC routine is a ritual. It marks time. It gives you a sense of control. It signals to your body that you’re safe.
So we replace it with a ritual that gives your brain the same cue.
Here are your replacement options:
Morning Buffer (pick one)
iced coffee + a protein breakfast
10-minute walk outside before work
shower + music + skincare
a ridiculously cold drink (sparkling water, lemon, ice)
The point is not wellness.
The point is sensation.
Your brain wants a shift. A change in state. Something that tells you the day has started and you can handle it.
Midday Buffer
Instead of THC at lunch, do:
a fast walk around the block
gum + sparkling water
a stupidly spicy snack
a comfort meal you actually look forward to
sitting in your car for 10 minutes in silence like a Victorian ghost
Again, the goal is not self-improvement.
The goal is to interrupt the pattern.
Step 4: Stop Calling It “Raw Dogging” (Even If It’s Funny)
I know it’s funny.
But language matters.
When you call sobriety “raw dogging life,” you’re framing it as suffering. Like you’re being forced into reality without anesthesia.
Which makes you crave anesthesia.
So we’re renaming it.
You’re not raw dogging life.
You’re getting your edge back.
You’re returning to your baseline.
You’re reclaiming your brain.
You’re not depriving yourself.
You’re retrieving yourself.
Yes, it’s dramatic. But you need dramatic right now.
Because your brain loves storylines.
Give it one.
Step 5: Build a “Relapse-Proof Workday” (Because Work Is the Battlefield)
You said you want to be sober at work so you can be ready for anything.
That means your workday needs to be designed like a survival plan.
Not a vibe.
Not a “I’ll see how I feel.”
A plan.
Here’s the structure:
9:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m.
Coffee or tea allowed
Breakfast required (even if small)
No THC
No alcohol
No bargaining
If you feel anxious, do not interpret that as failure.
Interpret it as your nervous system waking up.
Lunch
Eat a full meal. Not a snack pretending to be lunch.
Drink something fizzy.
If you can, go outside for five minutes.
You’re not going for hot girl walks. You’re going for brain regulation.
2:00 p.m. slump
This is where people crack.
So you plan for it.
At 2:00 p.m. you do one of these:
caffeine (if it doesn’t make you jittery)
a sugary snack
a walk
gum
a phone call with someone safe
a bathroom break where you stare at your own face like “don’t do it, you pathetic icon”
The 2:00 p.m. slump is not a moral failing.
It’s a predictable biological dip.
Treat it like weather. Prepare for it.
Step 6: You Need a Replacement Reward at Night
You’re not just using THC at night because you want to be high.
You’re using it because it signals the end of the day.
It’s your off-switch.
So we need a new off-switch.
Pick one nightly reward and make it sacred:
a comfort show (not a “prestige drama,” something brainless)
dessert
a bath
skincare
a new bedtime drink ritual (mocktail, tea, Diet Coke in a wine glass if you’re unwell)
melatonin if needed
Your brain needs a payoff.
If you remove substances and replace them with nothing, sobriety will feel like punishment.
And punishment is not sustainable.
Step 7: Don’t Try to Be “Sober.” Try to Be “Bored.”
This is the part no one warns you about.
When you stop drinking and using THC regularly, the world doesn’t become magical.
It becomes boring.
And boredom is a relapse trigger.
Because boredom feels like emptiness, and emptiness makes people crave stimulation.
So your job isn’t to become instantly happy.
Your job is to tolerate the boredom long enough for your brain to recalibrate.
Because what you currently call “relief” is often just your brain escaping boredom.
And boredom is not dangerous.
It’s just uncomfortable.
Which you can handle.
You’ve handled worse.
Step 8: Make a Rule That’s Hard to Break
You said you’ve done this before, so you know you can.
That’s great.
But you also know how this works.
You don’t relapse because you suddenly decide to ruin your life.
You relapse because you have one day where you think:
“I deserve it.”
So you need a rule that removes decision-making.
Here’s the simplest one:
No substances Monday through Thursday.
That’s it.
That’s your baseline.
Friday night? Fine. Saturday? Fine. Sunday? Maybe.
But Monday through Thursday is your foundation.
Because weekday use is where it becomes dependency. It’s where it becomes a coping system instead of a choice.
You can tighten this later.
But start here.
Because this is realistic.
And realistic is what you stick to.
Step 9: Remove Access. Make It Annoying.
If the rum is in your house, you will drink it.
If the THC is within reach, you will use it.
You are not a superhero. You are a person with habits.
So make it inconvenient.
Don’t keep rum in the house.
Don’t keep mixers stocked.
Put the THC somewhere irritating.
Don’t carry it with you.
Don’t keep it in your purse like it’s lip gloss.
You’re not “testing your willpower.”
You’re protecting your future self from your worst moods.
Step 10: When the Craving Hits, Do Not Negotiate With It
Cravings are like toddlers.
If you argue with them, they win.
If you reason with them, they win.
If you entertain them, they win.
So when the craving hits, your only response is:
“Not today.”
Not “never again.”
Not “I’m quitting forever.”
Just: not today.
Then immediately do something physical:
brush your teeth
shower
go outside
eat something
drink water
chew gum
Move your body. Change your environment.
Because cravings thrive in stillness.
Step 11: You Need One Person Who Knows the Truth
This is non-negotiable.
You need one safe person who knows what you’re doing.
Not to monitor you. Not to judge you. Not to clap for you.
Just to know.
Because secrecy feeds addiction. It gives the habit a private little throne.
Even if you don’t want to say “I’m struggling,” you can say:
“I’m taking a break from drinking and THC. I need to be clear-headed for a while. Can you check in on me this week?”
That’s enough.
You don’t need a TED Talk confession.
You just need accountability that feels human.
Step 12: If You Slip, You Do Not Spiral
Here’s the biggest reason people fail.
They have one drink or one hit and think:
“Well. I ruined it. Might as well go all in.”
That is the addiction voice.
That is the drama voice.
That is the all-or-nothing thinking that keeps people trapped.
So here’s your new rule:
If you slip, you reset immediately. Same day.
No shame spiral.
No “starting over Monday.”
No week-long bender because you “already messed up.”
You do not punish yourself for being human.
You just return to the plan.
Now Let’s Talk About the Real Issue
You said something quietly terrifying:
You don’t really have a choice anymore.
That tells me you’re sensing consequences. Maybe subtle ones. Maybe looming ones. Maybe you’re already feeling your body and brain get tired of this pattern.
And here’s the honest truth.
If you’ve reached the point where sobriety feels urgent, it usually means your system is already overstretched.
So yes, you need a plan.
But you also need to ask yourself:
What are you trying not to feel?
Because the rum and THC aren’t the problem.
They’re the solution you found when something else became unbearable.
Work stress. Anxiety. Depression. Burnout. Loneliness. Trauma. Unprocessed grief. Social pressure. Exhaustion.
Whatever it is, it’s still there.
And sobriety will bring it back into the room.
Not to punish you.
To be dealt with.
Your 30-Day “Get Your Brain Back” Plan
Here’s the plan that doesn’t feel like Everest.
Week 1: Stabilize
No alcohol before 5 p.m.
No THC before 5 p.m.
Eat breakfast and lunch
Hydrate aggressively
Sleep as much as possible
Week 2: Cut weekday use
No alcohol Monday to Thursday
No THC Monday to Thursday
Weekend use allowed, but reduced
Week 3: Clean weekdays
No alcohol or THC Monday to Friday
Friday night allowed if you want it
Week 4: Decide your forever baseline
Now you reassess:
Do you want full sobriety?
Weekend-only use?
THC only at night?
Alcohol only socially?
But you decide from a clear mind, not from desperation.
That’s the difference.
Final Advice, From One Woman to Another
You are not broken.
You are not weak.
You are not a failure for needing something to get through the day.
You are a person who found a shortcut, and now the shortcut is charging interest.
But the fact that you want your clarity back tells me everything.
You miss yourself.
You miss your sharpness.
You miss the feeling of being capable without chemical assistance.
And yes, it will be uncomfortable at first.
Sobriety feels like turning the volume up on your own life.
But you don’t need to be fearless.
You just need to start.
Seven days.
No lunchtime rum.
No morning THC.
Breakfast. Water. Structure.
One day at a time.
Not forever.
Not perfect.
Just forward.
Because you’re right.
You don’t have a choice anymore.
But the good news is: you do have control.
And you’re already proving it by writing in.
Sincerely,
Dear Brewtiful
