Updated: August 20, 2015
Originally Published: November 11, 2014
Throughout my life, I’ve exhibited a rebellious spirit, yet I’ve always managed to project an image of stability—picture the ideal family: a supportive partner, a child, a secure yard. Sundays would feature a roast cooking in the oven, while I prepared packed lunches every night, cutting sandwiches into neat halves. Beneath this facade, however, lay a beast, quietly dormant within me, waiting for the perfect moment to emerge. It struck when I was at my most vulnerable, seizing the opportunity to upend my life.
When I hear the phrase “I conquered my addiction,” I can’t help but chuckle. Overcoming addiction isn’t like winning a game; it’s not a transient phase you can look back on and think, “What was I thinking?” Addiction is an ever-present shadow, lurking just behind you, ready to pounce. Sobriety is a fleeting privilege, not a trophy to display. It’s akin to the deep ache of loss, reminiscent of a friend who, once a constant presence, suddenly disappears. It’s the cowardly ex who calls only when you’re lonely but never shows up when you need support. Addiction is an unfeeling, selfish adversary, one you can never truly defeat.
You can learn to navigate around it, hoping today isn’t the day it strikes, but you never fully conquer it.
I don’t recall my first drink, but I do remember my last. It was a Bud Light Platinum on December 31, 2013. While I consumed more that night, that sip marked the end of my relationship with alcohol. I wish it had been something more memorable—perhaps a finely crafted gin martini or a vibrant sunset margarita. Have you ever enjoyed a tequila sunrise on a beach in Waikiki? Trust me, if you ever decide to stop drinking, let that be your final toast.
Addiction is a relentless cycle, an ingrained habit. Wine was my evening companion; we’d rendezvous shortly after my workday ended. Together, we prepared dinner, chuckled at celebrity gossip on TV, and interacted with my child. Sometimes, my companion would linger well into the night, sharing quiet moments on the couch long after my child fell asleep. Do I miss that companionship? Every single day.
My current existence revolves around surviving the hours. I literally strive to live from one moment to the next. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay calm. Be present.
For those grappling with addiction, genuine happiness is elusive. The comfort I derived from substances provided an illusion of joy, allowing me to feel like a better employee, a better parent, a better partner. When sober, I often turned to other substances. I was oblivious to the severity of my situation; to me, this was simply life. And when my substance of choice wasn’t available, it became a mission to procure it.
Addicts don’t typically embrace pride. My mind raced as I searched for my next fix, but during darker times, the options were limited. One night, in the depths of withdrawal, I drifted into a fitful sleep filled with haunting thoughts of ending my suffering.
Envision my son, Michael, now 27, dressed in a black tuxedo with a yellow rose on his lapel. As Eric enters the room, pride swells in his chest as he sizes up our son. “Your mother would have been so proud of you today,” he says. Michael’s eyes, reminiscent of the beautiful blue I adored the moment he was born, mist with emotion. “Yeah… I’m sure she would be.”
I’ve realized that I cannot afford to consider suicide; I plan to dance with my son at his wedding.
Entering rehab was transformative. Initially, I walked in with my head held high, feeling out of place among the others—people from various walks of life, including those who had turned to survival methods in the streets. I quickly learned that addiction knows no boundaries. We all harbored our own beasts, driving us to seek help.
Each night, I sat in a room with 25 other individuals, sharing stories, learning, and rediscovering the will to live. The bonds formed during those three weeks became vital to my recovery. Our stories differed—some had been through rehab before, while others were just starting their journey. It felt like a fellowship for misfits, and some of us emerged with newfound insights.
I won’t pretend the past year has been free from challenges or that the journey has become simpler. But I continue to wake up and embrace another day of sobriety. I seek out natural highs in life. The key to lasting sobriety is to embrace the joys that don’t rely on substances.
Children embody pure happiness, largely because their world is filled with wonder and beauty. They are untainted by cynicism. Each day, I strive to reconnect with my inner nine-year-old, the one who dreamed of being a writer, who relished chocolate milk, and who found joy in being pushed high on a swing. I return to that essence, living one day at a time, and then waking up again.
The Beast no longer holds power over me. My armor is Love, and my weapon is Hope. Even if I stumble during the final showdown, I will keep fighting.
For further insights into home insemination, you can check out this excellent resource about pregnancy. If you’re interested in learning more about home insemination kits, visit this informative site for guidance. Additionally, to understand our commitment to privacy, please refer to our privacy policy.
Summary:
The article explores the ongoing battle with addiction, emphasizing that it is a constant struggle rather than a phase that can be conquered. The author shares personal reflections on sobriety, the importance of support in recovery, and the challenges faced along the journey. Ultimately, it highlights the significance of embracing life without substances, rediscovering joy, and the power of love and hope in overcoming addiction.