Is It Possible to Be Sober and Happy? Exploring the Benefits of Living a Sober Lifestyle; And how everything began....

On the 24th of August, I found myself lost in thought while sketching away. A whirlwind of ideas and memories danced through my mind as I realized I was on the brink of celebrating a decade of clean and sober existence. Well, technically the celebration was set for the next day, but who says I can't start the party early?

So 10 years ago.....

I found myself at a swanky party on Torstrasse in Berlin Mitte, at Rosenthaler Platz, to be exact. The festivities took place on a rooftop complete with a sizzling barbecue and all the trimmings.

I always considered the 25th as the official start of my birthday, given that the bash lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. The night was a blur of fun and frivolity, with memories of last summer's shenanigans still fresh in my mind.

As I mingled with a crowd of strangers, sipping on coffee and planning our next move to a club, a strange feeling crept over me. The caffeine jolted me awake, yet sobered me up in a way that left me feeling oddly out of place. It was a far cry from the usual buzz of a night out, which would have been snorting powders and being tipsy.

I found myself feeling completely sober and out of sorts, but hey, I was still hanging out with this crew. We decided to hit up Wahrschauerstrasse Kiez in my neighbourhood, you know, that club street - I blanked on the name. I haven't been in Berlin for a good six years now if you can believe it.

As we strolled along, I started to feel a bit grumpy. And then it hit me - I needed a beer, pronto.

So there I was, wandering around without a brew, pondering life. I wasn't feeling very social, still stuck in that weird, grumpy headspace. But as soon as I cracked open a cold one, "Berliner Pilsener" my mood did a complete 180.

It was like magic. Suddenly, I was back in the party spirit, mingling with the crew, knocking back vodka shots, and puffing on some weed on the dance floor - you know, the usual shenanigans. We hopped in a cab to Reichenberger Allee in Kreuzberg, discovering a hidden gem of a bar I'd never heard of before. The drinks kept flowing, and eventually, I decided it was time to mosey on home. It was probably around 4 AM, a reasonable hour for a Berliner.

I was feeling pretty good - not too sloshed, still aware of my surroundings. I sauntered home and woke up the next day feeling surprisingly okay. That night turned out to be my last hurrah with booze and weed.

I was knee-deep in steps 4 and 5 of another fellowship, and before I knew it, I had booked a flight to London. I'd never been before, so I was busy prepping my meeting list. I hadn't planned on quitting drinking altogether, but it just sort of happened. And that was that - my last drink. A week or two later, I found myself in London, crashing at a hostel in Kensington.

Despite being the most budget-friendly option, it turned out to be a blast. I mean, waking up fashionably late around 1 or 2 PM was my jam. But hey, at least I was on top of my meeting game.

Armed with my meeting schedule and a map of the city, I dove headfirst into the world of WhatsApp - a real game-changer back then. I attended meetings left and right, and before I knew it, I found myself at a love addiction meeting on Ogle Street in Central London near Holborn.

Let me tell you, the folks I met there were an absolute delight. We even grabbed tea at Pret on Oxford Circus after the meeting. It was a lovely evening filled with great conversation, even if my English was a bit rusty at the time.

Fast forward a day or two, and someone suggested me to check out Soho. So, I hopped on the tube, dressed to the nines in a vintage dress and hat I snagged at a Brick Lane store.

As I strolled through Soho, I stumbled upon the same group of people from the love addict meeting at Cafe Nero on Old Compton Street. Talk about a small world! We chatted away, and it turned out one was a photographer and designer, another a musician. We hit it off and even planned to collaborate on a radio show together - a truly bizarre and adorable turn of events.

In a city as vast as London, running into familiar faces by chance is nothing short of magical. Yeah, it was pretty awesome.

So, picture this: I'm minding my own business when one of my new friends is waiting for their sponsor. Suddenly, this person shows up looking like they just stepped off the runway. They invite me to tag along but then drop the bomb that it's an AA meeting. I'm like, "Hold up, I'm an NA kind of person."

But they're all like, "Nah, it's cool. Same difference."

Next thing I know, I'm strutting into St. Anne's Church on Dean Street, right across from Chinatown. The scene is wild - people coming straight from work, all dressed to the nines for this meeting. It was like a fashion show meets a support group. So, yeah, that was an interesting ride.

You never see people like that, you know? Who would show up to a meeting in Berlin looking like that? Nowadays, I can confidently say that Berlin is one of the worst-dressed cities in the Western world. Their fashion sense is just.... But hey, it's kind of entertaining, right? Because let's face it, in Berlin you won't get into a club if you look too put together.

London, on the other hand, is a whole different story. Anyway, that was quite the experience at my first AA meeting. We were chilling in the back row, and this elderly lady was sharing her thoughts, and then there was this person in not-so-chic attire, looking quite dishevelled, sitting in the front row.

And then, that elderly lady abruptly stopped talking, giving us all a look like, "Enough already." But then, out of nowhere, the person in the casual clothes let out a massive fart. I couldn't contain myself.

No one burst out laughing, but you could tell everyone was trying to hold it in. The guys next to me were struggling to keep a straight face, which only made me laugh harder. It was just too much. I mean, who knew AA meetings could be so hilarious?

That was my first AA meeting almost a decade ago, and I've been sober ever since. And you know what? It was meant to be. When I returned to Berlin, I couldn't shake off the charm of London. The next day, I met up with the same crew on Ogle Street for another meeting, eager to chat with Christianoshi for my theatre agent Sparrow podcast. Oh, the adventures of sobriety!

https://www.mixcloud.com/yasmineangelvin/theaterspatztheatresparrow-on-the-road-in-london-with-christianoshi/

I got my first sponsor just a few days later. She had nearly 30 years of recovery under her belt and also happened to be an actor. Let me tell you, she was tough as nails. She got on my nerves big time. But, she also pushed me in the right direction by encouraging me to write a letter to God and keep a daily journal using a booklet she gave me. I reluctantly followed her advice, and before I knew it, I found myself on the path to sobriety without even planning it.

I started attending more meetings in Berlin, mostly the German ones which were a whole different ball game. The community there was massive and dedicated to spreading the American message of recovery through step work and service. My second sponsor, a no-nonsense Dutch woman, guided me to English-speaking meetings, especially AA, which she claimed were even better in Berlin. I reluctantly went, not participating at first. But as I familiarized myself with the subject matter and the people in the meetings, I began to open up more.

I may have shared briefly, but my fear of language barriers held me back. Plus, let's be real, the evening meetings in Central Berlin were a draw because they had an abundance of sweets and biscuits. I mean, who can resist that? I even found myself sitting next to an older gentleman who was always painting, so I decided to join in on the fun and start my painting series.

Recovery may not have been my initial plan, but sometimes life has a funny way of leading you down unexpected paths. And hey, if those paths are lined with sweets and painting sessions, and colorful interesting people, count me in!

I found that I could listen better while drawing, which helped me focus and also aided my recovery tremendously. One of the musicians from Siouxsie and the Banshees was there, which I thought was pretty awesome. he sat there doing little paintings in his little booklet. I kept returning because most of the people were Americans, and they had great connections across the states. There were always incredible visitors sharing their stories. I remember one guy in particular who had such a powerful story; I could grasp about 65% of what he said, but even that was enough to be inspired. He went from rags to riches and had completely turned his life around from being totally messed up to living a prosperous and abundant life. He was wealthy, owned multiple properties, and was living in New York. It made me think, if he can do that, why can't I? I had that kind of epiphany multiple times. There was also this guy, Larry Tee, who was one of my heroes. He used to be a legend in New York and had just moved to Berlin after spending about five years in London. He didn't want to stay there and decided to make a fresh start in Berlin.

And he changed his life during recovery and started to be a designer. And he said things to me. He said, just stick with the winners. You know? Keep coming back.

You’re going to see amazing things! You’re going to flourish and have a life beyond what you can imagine. Looking back at where I started and the challenges I faced feels like a different world. It’s truly incredible! Nowadays, I’m happily working as a designer and an active actor. I have a wonderful relationship with my management team, and I enjoy writing too. Life is really good! But if I take a trip down memory lane to about 10 or 11 years ago when I first stepped into recovery, it brings back some memories. It was the end of July 2013, and I had just kicked off a new theater production. Just a week and a half into it, I went out one night, had some drinks, and thought I could juggle it all without any worries. I must have been pretty charming back then! Unfortunately, that night out turned out to be quite a wake-up call. It really took a toll on my mental health, and I was a completely different person. I was struggling to keep things together. But I’m grateful for where I am today!

They seemed unsure of what to do with me. I was both impressed with myself and angry that I had used again. Seeing the impact it had on me this time brought me to a turning point. It felt as though I was playing the lead role in a theater play—everyone was engaged, and it was great. But then, in one night, I completely messed it up. Suddenly, I wasn’t the same person anymore; I became disengaged and just a miserable wreck. I felt terrible about it. I remember the young director; her dad was a psychiatrist or psychologist. She was always trying to help, but she didn't know how to deal with me, and I felt regretful for that. I had never taken medications jus drugs, perhaps I should have, but that particular production and its outcome turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I never went down that path again. A few months later, I participated in a five-month production that was also a workshop with a renowned film director Detlef Rönfeldt. That theatre experience was a significant lesson for me. I started attending meetings regularly, and I recall the Friday meeting they called the "cuddle meeting." I hated it at first, but I eventually saw its benefits. I started feeling better, and then everything began to improve. I stopped attending my second meeting, and I also stopped using harder drugs altogether.

My drinking was quite moderate, but I was still drinking. It was much more moderate than before. I continued drinking for a whole year, which is why I celebrate 10 years of sobriety. Yes, jolly good! Things changed during that time. I continued with my podcasts and became more involved in producing them. I even started a podcast at the Volksbühne Berlin theatre. They were quite jealous of that production!

I did stop the young theatre production. I left because there were some financial irregularities, but overall it was a difficult situation. I messed things up, and I had reasonable concerns about the money involved.

Throughout those five months working with Detlef Rönfeldt, I found myself surrounded by dysfunctional, arrogant individuals, which made things even harder. When you're in a production like that, working together five days a week feels like you're in a marriage, but with people you don’t get along with. The first couple of weeks were particularly tough for me because I encountered some family issues that left me feeling overwhelmed. I fell into a very bad mental state for a while. However, there was a silver lining: I almost reached a point of despair, but I managed to reach out for help because I didn’t want to abandon my cats. I knew there was something positive that could come from the production, but I was also filled with fear—fear of the production itself, fear of the people involved, and a general lack of self-esteem. Eventually, I started attending more support meetings. I was fortunate to have people to talk to, including a film production coach named Andreas, who was very supportive. It was through him that I got involved in the production. We’re still in touch; he even messaged me a few weeks ago.

I was surrounded by friends and a remarkable individual from my recovery program. Interestingly, my co-sponsors were all older, around my parents’ age, which helped me foster meaningful family-like connections within the program. The initial weeks of that production were incredibly challenging, yet I remained determined to push through. Compounding this, just before the production began, I visited my relatives in southern Germany and faced the heartbreaking loss of a dear connection: the talented theater director, Dimiter Gotscheff. Our bond was immediate, and I have no doubt he would have cast me in his productions. In our brief friendship, we recorded an insightful podcast together, and I cherish the opportunity to feature him as one of my special guests.

After experiencing the sudden death of Mitko Gotscheff during the first week of film production, I found myself in a difficult situation. Coming back from a visit with my relatives, who were incredibly harsh and abusive, both emotionally and psychologically, I felt overwhelmed. Their lack of support and understanding made me realize that I needed to break free from their toxic influence for my well-being.

Despite the challenges I faced, I made the decision to continue with the production and sought solace in attending meetings for support. Fortunately, I found a supportive ally in the director, Detlef Rönfeldt, who I connected with on a personal level. I was honest with him about my struggles and the raw state I was in at the beginning of the production, which initially led others to believe I was simply acting. However, as time passed, they came to understand that my pain and difficulties were genuine.

Although my journey was tough, I persevered and maintained a strong work ethic throughout the production. My experience taught me the importance of surrounding myself with positive influences and cutting ties with those who do not support my growth. Ultimately, I emerged from this challenging period stronger and more self-sufficient, ready to face whatever obstacles came my way. I told him, "Listen, I've got places to be." I may have mentioned the doctor, but instead, I snuck off to a morning meeting. By that point, I had been hanging around the rooms for about 3 months, so I figured I might as well start attending more meetings. Turns out, they had a pretty positive impact on me. When it came time to perform, I was petrified - of the audience ( my actor's colleagues), the camera, you name it. But after hitting up those meetings, I was on fire. I was playing like never before, leaving everyone speechless. And that, my friends, is how it's done.

I had an amazing connection with the director, which allowed me to land the role without going through the stressful casting process. I was the only female chosen without auditioning, and it felt like a gift from the universe for doing everything right from the beginning. The rest of the cast was also incredibly driven and focused on their careers, creating a completely different atmosphere on set. They were not fucked up. After this successful start, I continued my journey with a meeting in Kreuzberg. I then enjoyed a stroll through the Turkish market, where I picked up some delicious cheese, fruits, bread, and pita to share with the production team. It turned out to be a delightful day filled with great food and even better company.

I was feeling incredible, truly on top of the world in some moments. Some people were envious, but I had to prioritize my own well-being. When it came time to play, I transformed into a completely different person. It was a rapid evolution that completely astonished me. I was genuinely amazed. This was significant—really significant. Honestly, it was a game changer. Tuesdays have always been my favorite. I’d find a reason to take a break, and that was perfectly fine because I was in a fantastic place. Sure, they wanted me there by 8 or 9 in the morning, but let’s get real—that wasn't going to happen. I didn’t make it, but my happiness was undeniable. You feel me? Just pure joy. On Monday night, I participated in a meeting at "Heile Haus" at Naunynstrasse in Kreuzberg. It was a meditation session—definitely one for the books. I finally made the courageous decision to open up. That became my turning point. I began sharing my story because I was scared of what I could do to myself. You know how it is when you’re fighting addiction; there are expectations to stay clean for a month or so. But then reality hits, and sometimes you slip up.

Imagine this: you stroll into a party, feeling all confident and ready to mingle. But then, bam! The milestone of 3 months hits you like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, you open your mouth and share your thoughts with everyone around you. People start gravitating towards you, but you're not thrilled about it. You're not exactly open to the beeping noises in the room, either. Engaging with others? Not your cup of tea.

But hey, you eventually come around. About 4 weeks later, you start to blossom. You show up at that party daily, like it's your job. And let's not forget about the art - because, you know, art is important.

Fast forward to the next stage, where things start to get interesting. There's a memorial for Dimiter Gotscheff, a theatre play, and a party at Volksbühne. I spotted Frank Castorf in the crowd, and suddenly, I arranged to do my regular podcast at Volksbühne. With Franky by your side, you feel like you can conquer the world. After all, when Franky's got your back, who's going to mess with you? He's the big boss, and you're ready to take on whatever comes your way. If God hired you who is going to fire you????? you hear me!

was all so natural, darling. But let me tell you, I had put in the work before all that. Living in Vienna, doing my thing, and then swooping back to Berlin just in time for the real recovery. I had my radio podcast in my pocket, along with a piece of Vienna. Because let's face it, coming back to Berlin without having explored the world is like missing out on all the fun.

People would chat me up, recognizing me from my theatre sparrow days. Some even knew my real name, but to them, I was the "theatre sparrow",  agent sparrow. Always decked out in vintage threads, looking sharp, and always in a jolly good mood.

And let's not forget my dear friend from those days, Sir Henry. A true multi-talented gem on this planet. We once produced a multilingual podcast straight from the theatre on a chilly February afternoon. Both of us are nursing hangovers but still dedicated to catching the vibe and going with the flow.

Ah, the memories. Here we go, my friends.

Honestly, I had to indulge in a little liquid courage. How else was I supposed to navigate a room full of people feeling like a fish out of water? Alcohol was my trusty sidekick, my social lubricant. Sure, I wasn't quite there yet, but I managed to snag interviews with the likes of Michael Schweighöfer and Milan Peschel. Milan was a bit of a pain, but hey, it was my first double interview - not exactly a walk in the park, you know?

There was a hiccup in the recording, but I swooped in and saved the day with some editing magic. Despite my early recovery struggles and my less-than-perfect background, I soldiered on. I initially hesitated to release the podcast, fearing I had made a colossal mistake. But as time passed, I realized it was all part of the journey - nothing to be ashamed of.

The podcast turned out to be a hit, even with a few missing pieces here and there. I even threw in some of Michael Schweighöfer's favourite tunes for good measure. Speaking of Michael Schweighöfer, did you know he's the father of the famous Matthias Schweighöfer? Small world, right? And let's not forget he hails from the former East German Republic, where recovery meetings were as rare as a unicorn.

I always meant to reach out to Michael, but time slipped away, and I figured it was too late. Oh well, missed opportunities and all that jazz. Lesson learned - next time, I'll make sure to stay in touch before it's too late.

Recovery feels like a whirlwind that pulls you in and forces you to confront everything head-on. Looking back, I realize I would handle things differently now. Despite the chaos, I decided to go abroad and trust my gut, which turned out to be a great decision. I have no regrets, even though I had to deal with a shady Cypriot mafia landlord in Crouch End.

Isn’t it astounding that this guy owns around 80% of the properties in North London? It’s a game of money, money laundering, and drama. Yet, I persevered and emerged from it stronger than ever.

One learns a lot going through twelve court hearings. Nerve wrecking.

Brighton had always been a dream destination for me for having a home base there, but I thought I wouldn’t happening for years. Then, suddenly, one morning scrolling though options on my laptop without coffee! I booked a place. I found myself packing my bags and heading to Brighton to escape the turmoil. Sometimes, you must embrace the uncertainty and take a leap of faith. So, that’s my story for now. Until next time, Dude!