The Strange Discomfort of Being the Sober One A few days ago, I was unexpectedly invited to a family celebration. Well, perhaps not completely unexpectedly. I could have guessed it was coming, but part of me had still been quietly avoiding the whole thing. Large family gatherings become slightly complicated once a person stops drinking. Especially if the family still drinks normally. Or what society calls “normally.” I have now been sober for a year and a half. My relatives know I am an alcoholic. At least technically. But I am not entirely sure they truly understand what that means. To them it often seems less like an illness and more like some unfortunate habit I should eventually learn to control. Something between bad discipline and bad luck. They are my closest relatives, and I know they care about me. But at the same time I sometimes notice a certain discomfort around the subject. As if my sobriety quietly disturbs the atmosphere. As if I became slightly f...