I Was Out of Control
But I’m in recovery now … with the compassionate support of people who believe in me
I don’t know when I crossed the line and became insane.
I started drinking as soon as I got to college. We were all having a great time celebrating our newfound independence and the absence of curfew.
But I seemed to be doing it differently than the people around me. I was that girl who always took it a little too far and ruined a perfectly good time. My goal was to get blackout drunk, and I didn’t understand why anyone would choose any other way. Why were these people just drinking in moderation? They were missing the point.
I didn’t understand it at the time, but I had a disease.1
As you can imagine, I wasn’t at the top of any invite lists because people around me got tired of my antics. Nobody wanted to babysit me or have the whole night focused on the drama I manufactured. I didn’t have a lot of girlfriends in college because the only group of people that really accepted me was a group of NROTC* Marines in my dorm that drank whiskey like I did. I clung to those guys. They appreciated my love for liquor. They were my people. They got me.
Fast forward ten years … those Marines started families and had careers. I’m sure they would drink occasionally, but they weren’t chained to it. Controlled by it. Meanwhile, you would find me—by myself—at the local bar while my parents watched my son at home. It was all fun and games in college, but other people were able to grow up and have new priorities. I was still attached to and completely dependent on alcohol.
Day drinking became normal for me. Within a few years, it turned into morning drinking. I drank before I took my son to school. I drank before work and at work. I was never not drinking.
I don’t write these words flippantly. These aren’t inconsequential details that pop up in my head, like something I forgot to put on the grocery list. These are the hard facts of my alcoholism that I would love to leave out. These are the moments that bring me the most shame.
But these are also the things I have worked on with therapists over time so I can be a productive person and learn from my past instead of staying stuck in a hole of self-pity.
The fact that I consistently drove my son around while highly intoxicated still makes my stomach turn. But I have to tell you these things because that is addiction. I was a slave to alcohol, and I had no power. Ask any person if they would take several shots of tequila before driving their sweet, precious child to school. No logical person would do that. Only a monster would do that. That’s who I had become.
When I finally got help and received inpatient treatment for my alcoholism, I felt like a monster. The fog in my head was clearing; I was getting my sanity back. I felt like the worst mother in the world.
Fortunately for me, I had people in my life who believed in me. Who understood that addiction is a disease – a brain disorder. The clinical team at my treatment center guided me and gave me the tools I needed to work through my thoughts and feelings. The 12-Step Program2 taught me that lack of power over alcohol was the problem. I needed access to a power greater than myself to get me out of this mess.
The women around me who were also fighting their way out of this madness were the ones who taught me how to be there for others. Receiving that support was a godsend. And in giving support to others, I found my purpose. I am now a peer support specialist and love helping others who struggle with addiction.
I know what addiction feels like. I wanted to stop drinking more than anything. But I couldn’t. Until I received help, support, some tough love, but also compassion. I owe it to those who suffer from a substance use disorder to share the good news.
There is a way out. You are not doomed. There is hope.
And I am living proof.
*NROTC = Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps
1. Massachusetts General Hospital, Recovery Research Institute. The Power of Perceptions and Understanding: Why Addiction is a Disease, and Why It’s Important. Resource Guide, 2022.
2. Alcoholics Anonymous. The Twelve Steps. Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc. 2024
Reading this as a heroin addict gives me hope. More power to you. Thanks for sharing