World Mental Health Day and Sober October take place this month, and Grammy-nominated guitarist Marcus King has found his sobriety and mental health are inextricably linked. In the below commentary, he shares how 1 Million Strong and his own Curfew Fellowship Fund have helped him foster a compassionate, supportive community for saying sober, especially on the road.

I spent most of my time in addiction feeling guilt and shame for the time I’d lost. There are many moments, incredible career defining moments, like the first time I played with Eric Clapton, Little Featand  Lynyrd Skynyrd, that I simply cannot fully recall. 

Addiction ran in my family and partially ran my life for quite some time.

I had my first drink around age 12 or 13. I was often the youngest one at the party. I drank in an effort to quiet down the demons from years of trauma and abandonment that I hadn’t learned how to cope with yet. Drugs and alcohol helped to summon a muse and overcome my social anxiety.

I spent most of my teens and early 20s under the influence. Two years ago, I didn’t think I’d live to make another album. I’d tried many times to quit drinking and while getting clean could be a high of its own, my sense of self sunk even lower when I fell off the wagon. I’m certainly not the first to self-medicate. 

We’ve lost many of the greats to addiction – Hank Williams, Billie Holliday, Townes Van Zandt, Janis Joplin, Amy Winehouse – and not having the right resources and community in place to support them. Behind the glamor of the sex, drugs, and rock & roll lifestyle, the music industry can be isolating with grueling hours on the road, often times away from loved ones and little time to focus on your health. But it is getting easier to be an artist or fan and maintain sobriety. 

What I’ve learned in the past two years is that sobriety and mental health are a journey, not a final destination. Each day I just need to make progress and lend myself compassion when I don’t live up to it – when I fall off, I have to remind myself I am not a fuck up, I just fucked up. 

I’ve also learned what tools I need for the journey. Community is one. And it’s key. 

It’s easier for me to be sober on stage than alone with my own mind. Having people on my tour who know I am better when I’m sober and help me stay the course is necessary. That’s why I’m currently on the road with my pals 1 Million Strong. This initiative is working with artists, festivals, and venues to create community and engaging sober experiences, encourage open conversation about addiction, and give support for those impacted by substance use. 

To take it a step further, 1 Million Strong connects people with The Phoenix’s sober-active community which give those struggling with addiction opportunities to make meaningful connection in their daily lives through virtual and in person events across the country. 

For me, it’s making time to ride my Peloton bike before shows. Even just the virtual community I find there helps me keep going. 

Building community starts from the bottom up — music venues and tours are no exception. By working together to make the music industry a place where sober communities can grow and thrive, we’re hoping to change the way people think about experiencing music.  

I’ve been so impressed by my friends in the industry and fans who have shown up to support this sober community and chart a better path. If I have any advice for people whose loved ones are struggling with addiction it’s to listen. 

Substance use disorders truly are an illness, so don’t cast blame. Judgment only shoves those of us trying to stay sober further into darkness. It erodes our sense of self and our connection to you — the very things that could be lifelines to sobriety.  

We also need to get honest in this country about mental health and how darkness drives addiction. That’s what I am trying to do by sharing my experiences, and that’s the mission behind my Curfew Fellowship Fund, which is building a support system for those battling mental health challenges.  

The foundation is named for my friend, tour manager, and fellow songwriter Matt “Curfew” Reynolds who died by suicide in 2017. I’d like to believe if Curfew, Hank, Billie, Townes or any of the other greats we’ve lost to addiction had access to a sober, supportive community equipped to help them wrestle their demons, their careers and their lives would have been longer. 

I once heard Tyler Childers describe getting sober as regaining time. My sobriety journey is about getting my time back that I could have lost all together.  

For me, meditation and spending time each day being grateful for my wife, and my dog, Duck — who hates the smell of alcohol on people’s breath — and this life keeps me grounded. When I’m not drinking, I’m more present, more creative, and see things more vibrantly. I am who I want to be for myself, my loved ones and my fans.  

Just because you’re sober doesn’t mean you can’t party. I believe everyone has a role to play in reimagining the music industry as a sacred space where everyone can show up as they are and rock out together, no matter what’s in their cup.