When I look back on life in deep addiction, certain things become clear. I am talking about the worst of times: the obsessive drinking, not drinking for enjoyment, but drinking just not to feel sick. Barely making it through work because withdrawals were so bad (if I made it to work at all), getting home and having a drink before I took my coat off. Not eating, passing out instead of sleeping, isolating completely. I was a prisoner of my illness. There were no choices here. Everything was completely out of my control. I truly believe I would have died had I not gotten help out.

This was a time that was beyond depression, anxiety or any other emotional or psychological suffering. There was no room for anything but alcohol and survival. I could never see past the next few hours. There was no concept of anything but my immediate needs. Because the past and the future were not available to me, sadness, anxiety, regret and shame did not figure in. It wasn’t until I sobered up that I was able to see them.

Anyone who has been through addiction therapy, counselling or rehab knows there is little discussion of the drug of choice. The focus is on the demons that control us. Even the 12 steps only talk about the drug itself in the first step. In recovery, we explore our past, we take long hard looks at our behaviors and feelings. We face difficult realities and try to make sense of what got us here. We talk, we share our stories, and we look for insights. We do this to heal ourselves.

Two and a half years ago I went into a 90 day rehab program. I explored my past, my thoughts, my fears. It was the most emotionally difficult time of my life, but imperative for my survival. I continue to do this work now, and while it is not easy, am grateful for being shown the path.

This makes me think about another time in my life. A time where, for about 10 years, I did not drink. I had stopped drinking back then because I knew it was a problem, but also under pressure from my family. I attended AA briefly but never did the steps. I had a few counselling sessions but stopped going. I didn’t do any of the hard stuff. In my defense, I didn’t know.

These “sober years” were the saddest, loneliest, angriest time of my life. Without alcohol to numb myself and provide an escape, I was barely staying above water. I was an angry, difficult person. I saw no future except the unhappy life I was trapped in. I did make some partial attempts to get help. I paid a lot of money to a spiritual healer, who gave me some insight. I briefly saw a therapist. I was able to leave my marriage of 20 years and begin looking after some of my needs. But the anger, sadness and despair always resurfaced. I lived in constant turmoil, feeling ok one day and not able to stop crying the next. Bursts of anger and intense shame were common. This was the only time of my life where I actually considered suicide. Thankfully, I could not bear the thought of causing my children any more pain than I had already.

Writing this is very difficult. These are not feelings I want to relive and not something that I particularly want to share, but the purpose behind my writing has always been to reach out to other addicts, to let them know they are not alone. I feel if I had been more open to getting help, stayed with AA, gone into treatment or done something, I would not have spent 10 years so unhappy.

If you are struggling in addiction, or struggling in sobriety, know that you are not alone. Reach out to a 12 step group, health care provider, friends, family, or whatever is right for you. Do not do this alone. I thought I could too.