My drinking days (decades, actually), were so confusing. I couldn’t figure out who I really was anymore (numb and avoidant and hard-working martyr didn’t seem like the dream I had for my life purpose).
I seriously couldn’t see what possible excuse I had for being unhappy.
I’d worked hard my whole life, studied hard and got a great education, have a dream career in service to others, have two really amazing teens and a family who loves me and the best friends I never expected and hope to always have.
And all that doesn’t look too different from my drinking days—on the OUTSIDE. Because when I was drinking I was doing it to cope with issues I didn’t think I had it in me too face. Stuff it down, guzzle, glug, pull myself out of bed in the morning, miserable, finding something to wear that could maybe mask the bloated toxic face and body. And then I just acted the life role I’d auditioned for and won. I’d ruminate at night about how to fix external problems so I could be happier and more proud of myself again. I didn’t recognize myself anymore.
I didn’t want to admit I was failing at life, that I achieved everything I thought i wanted and yet felt trapped.
I was trapped. I was addicted to alcohol, and my addiction lured me away from everything I cherish. And made me feel like I didn’t deserve to change people or things that were hurting me. Those things I used to do, that I hated about myself? They were big flags of a root problem. the alcohol was covering up the issues and they weren’t going anywhere until I stopped sabotaging my mind and body with poison. it wasn’t easy but it was so worth it.