“Have you reached your limit yet?” This was the question I posed to myself on the morning of May 2, 2013. I stood over my bathroom sink, feeling as though my insides had been poisoned—because, in truth, they had been, thanks to my own choices. I could barely support my own weight, trembling uncontrollably as I gazed into the mirror and saw a bloated, haunted version of myself staring back.
Once again.
I needed to compose myself for my job as a special education teacher at a junior high in Northern California. On the surface, I appeared to have everything in order: a new marriage, a new home, and dreams of starting a family. Yet every day, a terrifying thought consumed me: all I ever wanted was to be a mother, yet I was willing to forsake that dream for the sake of alcohol. I knew that when the night came, I would repeat the same destructive cycle.
I couldn’t go on living this way—I had known it for some time. The reality was that I was not living; I was merely existing. At 29, I was exhausted from being sick and tired. I longed for my suffering to end, but the thought of a life without alcohol seemed impossible. The mental torment and obsession had infiltrated every aspect of my being. In a moment of desperation, I chose to do something I had never attempted before: I asked for help.
Fast forward seven and a half years later, and I am now the proud mother of three wonderful daughters, none of whom have ever witnessed me take even a single sip of alcohol.
Achieving sobriety is not a spontaneous event; it requires commitment and support. It wasn’t until the pandemic that I decided to become an active advocate for sobriety, particularly among mothers. I recognized alarming similarities between the isolation brought on by COVID-19 and the darkest moments of my addiction. The pressure for mothers to use alcohol as a coping mechanism for parenting challenges has only intensified. Many mothers are now confusing acceptable levels of drinking with justifications rooted in stress, anxiety, and depression.
As someone in recovery, friends and family often approach me to discuss concerning drinking habits among themselves and others. Perhaps this resonates with you: what started as a couple of glasses of wine each night after the kids went to bed has escalated into consuming an entire bottle alone to numb the daily struggles. The “desire” for a drink has morphed into an absolute “necessity.”
Currently, many are transitioning from casual drinkers to full-fledged alcoholics and addicts in mere months. We are all searching for something—anything—to dull the mental pain caused by the pandemic and its aftermath. We have become ensnared by a substance that falsely promises relief, whispering, “More will make this hurt go away.”
Please understand: you don’t have to continue down this path. There is another option.
Although addiction is recognized as a treatable chronic disease by the American Medical Association, it remains a complex issue, largely due to the stigma that surrounds it. People are quick to empathize with those facing mental health crises but often dismiss addiction as a personal failing. What they overlook is that mental health issues and addiction are deeply intertwined. There’s a quote that states, “For those who suffer from addiction, no explanation is necessary; for those who do not, no explanation is possible.” Given the lives that addiction has cost, why not approach the situation with compassion and empathy? These sentiments are free to give.
After publishing an article titled “How Alex Thompson’s Relapse is Impacting My Sobriety” on a popular platform, I was privileged to interview Jamie Miller, CEO and co-founder of RecoverTogether, a social networking site aimed at destigmatizing addiction. Miller shared a staggering statistic: during the initial three weeks of the pandemic, their platform recorded a 1,900% increase in requests for help. Messages of despair poured in: “I have pills lined up on my counter, and I’m planning to overdose. I can’t keep going like this.” Many were crying out for support, feeling utterly alone.
Miller believes, “the antidote to addiction is connection,” which is why he created a network for those affected by addiction. The platform provides users with access to helplines, treatment centers, and sober chat groups—all free of charge. They also host “sober curious” groups, offering a safe environment for individuals to explore their feelings and questions. RecoverTogether presents a glimpse into a fulfilling life without alcohol, complete with guides for sober living, dating, and vacation options. Even in a society that often revolves around drinking, there are countless activities to enjoy that don’t involve alcohol. A sober lifestyle is anything but dull!
Now, more than ever, people are yearning for connection. In a pre-pandemic world, at the conclusion of a 12-step meeting, we would form a circle and join hands to symbolize our shared journey. This gesture reminds us that we are not alone in our experiences.
I will continue to share my sobriety journey, finding strength in my vulnerability. What was once a source of shame has transformed into an avenue for others to confront their struggles. A message of hope can be the difference between someone succumbing to addiction and someone thriving in recovery. For more insights on this topic, check out this related post.
Search Queries:
- How to recognize addiction symptoms
- Support for mothers struggling with alcohol
- Coping mechanisms for parenting stress
- Resources for sober living
- The connection between mental health and addiction
Summary:
This article delves into the personal journey of overcoming addiction, highlighting the urgent need for open conversations about sobriety, especially among mothers. It emphasizes the importance of seeking help and building connections to combat addiction, while also addressing the stigma surrounding it.
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