Why Is Substance Abuse in Sales So Common?

I worked in sales for many years. I don't want to blow my own trumpet, but I was really good at it too. I think there are certain people who seem to have a natural ability to sell. Most people imagine Matthew McConaughey's character in The Wolf of Wall Street, thumping his chest while coaching a then-green Jordan Belfort, played by Leonardo DiCaprio, on how to be a killer.

While that’s obviously done for the big screen and I’m sure there was some creative license taken, it’s not as far from the truth as some might think. I wasn’t a stockbroker, but my foot didn’t come off the gas much after the business day closed. I was deep into the life. Making deals, hitting targets, nailing the sales pitch. After that, I didn’t go home to put my feet up and watch Netflix. 

Oh no. I would go straight to the substance that allowed me to keep going at 10,000 RPM.

Deep down, I knew I had a problem, but instead of getting the help I needed, I just found ways to up the ante every time. That was the pattern. And that was the pattern until I found myself on the floor of an Airbnb with heart palpitations after a three-week meth bender. 

Oh yeah. I was that guy. 

That warning shot was all it took. I’m grateful to whatever part of me recognised that this could not go on any longer.

The truth is, my lifestyle wasn’t suited to taking it easy. I wasn’t ever going to be surrounded by people who noticed I needed to slow down. I had my flaws, and the industry exposed them like a glow stick at an EDM rave.

I know for some people, simply walking away from their job or cashing out with their (ill-got) gains isn’t an option. It’s hard to let go of the only pace you know. The need to stay on high alert becomes second nature. But just because you know how to hit targets and close deals with that intensity doesn’t mean you have to carry it into every part of your life.

There’s a point where you either keep running on fumes or start asking what it’s all really for.

The numbers speak for themselves

You don't have to be in recovery or even self-aware to notice how many people in sales drink hard, use stimulants, or just operate in a haze most of the time. The data backs it up, but you probably saw it long before you ever looked at the stats. Around a third of people in sales report binge drinking. One in ten meets the criteria for substance use disorder. And even that feels conservative. 

What rarely gets talked about is how normalized it all is. Not just the drinking, but the dependency. You fly out for a conference, you barely eat, you run client meetings all day, and by the time the first drink hits the table at dinner, no one even questions what comes next. It’s not seen as substance abuse. It’s just seen as bonding, letting off steam, staying sharp, and keeping the energy up. Everyone plays their role, and as long as you keep hitting your numbers, no one cares what you're putting in your body to make it happen.

There’s a reason people on Reddit talk openly about being high-functioning alcoholics in sales. One thread was full of comments from reps swapping stories about doing coke in the bathroom between meetings, or drinking until 3 am and then leading a pitch by 9. Some of them were proud of it. Some of them weren’t. And a few admitted what many are afraid to say out loud: they don’t know how to stop without losing everything.

And that’s the reality of it. In this culture, showing up sober isn’t always celebrated. Sometimes it’s seen as a weakness. Sometimes it makes people uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s just easier to go along with it than to be the one who opts out.

But whether or not you talk about it, it’s there. The industry has a substance problem. And for a lot of people, the question isn’t if it catches up with them, it’s when.

Why Sales Breeds Substance Use

Some jobs invite chaos, even if they don’t ask for it outright. Sales is one of them. It rewards obsession. It encourages you to stay in motion. It makes you feel like slowing down is the same as falling behind. And when you’re the kind of person who already leans toward intensity, it doesn’t take much for the line between ambition and burnout to disappear.

When you’re hitting quota or closing deals, it can feel like nothing else matters. That feeling becomes something you chase without even realising it. And when the adrenaline fades or the numbers dip, a lot of people reach for something that keeps the high going. Maybe it starts with a drink after work. Maybe it’s something to take the edge off before a big call. 

The environment makes it easy to keep going, doesn’t it? You’re encouraged to celebrate wins with drinks. You’re expected to show up to happy hours, team dinners, and off-sites, and make it look like you’re still on. No one pulls you aside and asks if you’re alright as long as you’re still performing. The industry rewards people who run hot and punishes anyone who cools off. When you start tying your worth to your ability to keep going, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep your energy up. Even if it’s killing you.

What It Actually Costs You

There’s a point where the habits that helped you keep the pace start pulling you under. You still show up, still hit quota, still get the high-fives, but something feels off. You’re not sleeping properly. You feel yourself getting irritable, even in situations that never used to bother you. The highs feel duller. The comedowns land harder. 

When I found myself on the floor of that Airbnb, it wasn’t a dramatic fall from grace. It was the natural end of a pattern I had been justifying for years. I had pushed through every warning sign. I had built a life around intensity. I knew how to deliver under pressure, how to hold the room, how to chase the high. What I didn’t know was how to stop. And no one around me was asking me to. I was still closing, still producing, still performing. That was what I thought anyone cared about. 

The scariest part was how normal it all seemed from the outside. I wasn’t falling apart in a way most people would notice. I was just slowly disconnecting. My judgment was getting worse. My sense of self was slipping. I started relying on substances not to feel good, but to feel level. And when you live like that long enough, it starts to feel permanent.

Why Sober Adventure Travel Works

While it’s not realistic for everyone to walk away from their sales career and start a sober travel company, it is possible to carve out time for the things that bring you joy without needing drugs or alcohol to access them. 

I didn’t suddenly become disciplined or spiritual or full of self-control. What changed was that I found something that gave me more than the substances ever did. I started doing the things that made me feel alive in the right way.

When you’ve got an outlet that isn’t alcohol or drugs, you stop needing to use those things to cope. When you’ve got a morning to look forward to, it puts a hard stop on the night before. You don’t chase oblivion when you’ve got something better on the other side of sleep.

That’s how my journey started. It was uncomfortable at first, and I didn’t feel confident about any of it. The urge to escape was still there, and the fear of failure was always close. But slowly, that faded. The more I traveled, the more I hiked, swam, explored, ate, and listened, the more I remembered how to feel joy without needing to numb anything. My love for the world started winning again. My love for a gruelling hike, for diving into the ocean, for losing myself in a street food tour, for the right music in the right place. It all managed to bring back the feeling I used to think only came with a drink in my hand and a pill in my pocket.

That’s what kept me going, and it’s what keeps me going still.

If you’re ready to flick the switch and find joy in adventure, I would be honored to host you on one of our next trips.