One ordinary day I made an extraordinary decision

Actually it wasn’t an ordinary day, it was Easter Sunday (2004).

Being a holiday weekend we decided to host a family get-together with hot cross buns and few drinks.

As the day wore on, what started out as a couple of glasses of bubbly red became a volatile emotional storm.

I don’t recall the details, I just knew I was being triggered.

It was a moment etched in time, forever imprinted on my soul. Lying on the cold bathroom floor in a drunken haze.

Suddenly I was aware of two golden-brown orbs, as my eyes met the concerned eyes of my little boy.

Pools of innocence, filled with worry and innocence, snapped me back into the spin of reality.

In that instant, I realised my behaviour wasn’t just about me anymore; my battle with alcohol had a witness, one whose life was intimately entwined with my own. The realization that I was supposed to be setting an example for this precious little person, was both a jolt and a revelation.

In that moment it became painfully clear.

The Decision to Face My Addictions

In the hushed silence, made starker by the cold tile beneath me, a decision crystallised within me.

I was going to get sober.

For years, I had normalised my drinking with excuses, telling myself that it was just glitch and that tomorrow would be different.

But the truth was it wasn’t possible for me to enjoy a couple of drinks with a meal, or with friends – I drank to get drunk.

I drank and I participated in various mind-numbing, distracting activities to avoid feeling the intensity of emotion that pierced through my days.

But the vision of concern reflected in my son’s eyes reflected the undeniable truth of my situation. I was not just fighting for my own sanity; I was fighting for the chance to give him the mother he deserved.

It was a sobering realisation, one that demanded immediate action. No longer could I hide behind the veil of alcohol; it was time to face my addictions head-on, to unravel the threads of pain and confront them with the courage I wasn’t sure I possessed.

This was the moment of truth, the first step on a journey not just toward sobriety, but toward healing and wholeness.

The Hidden Backstory of Addiction

My relationship with alcohol had never been casual. It was a meticulously constructed facade, built to shield me from the unresolved childhood trauma. I self-medicated on a daily basis, in an attempt to numb myself into oblivion. I talked myself into it being a lifestyle choice, and while it offered emotional protection from touching the ache with my senses, it simultaneously chained me to a point in time where the trauma originated.

I envied folks who openly enjoyed a social drink, perhaps having a lovely glass of wine with their meal. But for me, it was always to excess.

Finally accepting I was an alcoholic didn’t really come as shock. Meeting the addiction was for me, a reluctant acceptance of a long-denied truth. Admitting it to myself was a monumental step, yet it paled in comparison to the journey of healing that lay ahead. This journey was about much more than sobriety; it was about untangling the web of pain, fear, and self-doubt that had ensnared me.

Getting Sober is a Journey

I didn’t know how I was going to get sober. It was hard. The religious principles of AA didn’t resonate with me. I went to a free information session about a secular twelve week rehabilitation program. After divulging a lot of personal information, I was told the program would help. However, the financial investment was leagues out of my reach. The program director scowled, I knew what she was thinking – if she can afford to buy gallon-loads of alcohol she can afford treatment. Tears rolled down my eyes as she raised an eyebrow and said, “if you really want help, the Universe will find a way”.

Acceptance as the Foundation of Recovery

It was a difficult lesson to experience. Sobriety isn’t just about abstaining from alcohol; it’s about confronting and accepting the complexities of our inner world and the reality around us.

When I discovered I didn’t have the means to participate in a rehabilitation program, I decided to try yoga.

Yoga became not a solution but a sanctuary, a space where the pain I had long evaded could surface in the presence of my breath and the movement of my body. It taught me the profound lesson that healing isn’t about eradicating pain.

True healing is about learning to coexist with life, just as it is. Resolving to get sober mean I needed to be willing to participate in life again, to understand its language, and to respond to its call with compassion instead of fear.

In the gentle embrace of yoga, I learned the art of being present. Breath awareness became my anchor in the tumultuous sea of emotions, a reminder that I am here, I am alive, and I am connected to something infinitely vast and deeply nurturing.

Every day, I feel so incredibly grateful for my sobriety. I have now been sober since Easter 2004, but the road hasn’t been easy. I never attended an Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting but have been told many aspects of my recovery journey are similar to their twelve step program. The core of my recovery was based on staying in the moment, taking small steps and allowing something bigger than me (and addiction) to shine through when things got emotionally intense.

Through this journey, I have come to understand that my sobriety and my battle with depression are not just personal triumphs but collective victories, shared with everyone who walked with me, lent an ear, or offered a word of encouragement. They have shown me that while our battles may be fought on individual fronts, our victories are won together.

There is a world of support waiting for you, a community ready to embrace you, and a path to healing that is uniquely yours. If you or someone you know is struggling with alcohol addiction and seeking support, please know there are resources available that offer help and guidance. While my journey did not follow a traditional path, the importance of finding a support system that resonates with you is paramount. For a list of crisis lines and support organizations, please visit this page.

Bravely She Blogs is not intended as medical or therapeutic advice. For immediate help please call one of the support lines here.