On September 12, 2020, I was saved for the first time; by my sobriety. I did not have a "rock bottom". Perhaps I could call it my own "emotional/mental/spiritual bottom".

I grew up in a small-ish town, a rural kind of suburb in Maryland. I lived there for most of my life, until I went down to Florida at age 18 to go to detox and rehab. I’m back in Maryland now, about to turn 31. I’m doing pretty well, actually!

I started drinking at 13 years old, and it got worse from there. Low self-worth and traumatic experiences throughout childhood forced me to create a façade. It was extremely painful living with a mask on, hiding my true self from the world; I didn’t think you’d like me. Essentially, I drank to face the pain I couldn’t reach when I was sober.

I can now testify to my battles with alcohol. I see where it stems from, and it sneaks up on you.I feel bad now that I'm older and see that he wasn't happy with himself, and just as I did, he separated himself from the ones he loved. I call it suffering in silence.

“I wake up every morning and ask myself: What can I do to help someone struggling with alcoholism today?” –Jimmy

I worked various jobs, then I decided that it would be better for me to work in a bar. I was a great partier, and serving alcohol was my way of not failing at anything and an excellent way to support my habit.

I realized my addiction had become unmanageable when I feared the weekends. I knew it would be a weekend of heavy heavy drinking, and it was beginning to take priority over everything. If I wanted to go to see a band, I wouldn’t go if I wasn’t drinking. If I went to a party, I wouldn’t go unless I could drink.

I loved alcohol. Beer specifically. I was an anxious kid. In my head, I was bright, funny, curious, a great athlete. To the world at large, I was physically very small ( and puberty made wait, and wait, and wait…) and quiet. We moved ALOT as a kid, and it was always a struggle to fit in as something other than a puny book nerd.

I stood in my kitchen one evening and just said to myself ‘ where are you are going with this? You know what’s coming if you continue. Do you really not want to not be here?” ‘Give yourself another chance’. ‘What if it’s the alcohol actually causing you anxiety?’

As the youngest of five kids, I grew up in a home with two miserable alcoholics in a very small home, where secrets were created and never shared with anyone, including each other.

I would say “my kids come first” but as an alcoholic no they didn’t. What’s happening in my mind supersedes the reality. 

I started my relationship with substances while I was in elementary. I drank in high school like all high schoolers & College was the same; smoked weed and tripped on acid a lot. But it never interfered with anything. I did it when available. If it wasn’t, it wasn’t the end of the world. 

I started my relationship with substances while I was in elementary school. I went from alcohol to drugs by the time I was 15. I spent my whole life teetering just on the edge.

My partying days were hit and miss during my marriage. I didn’t drink everyday but when I did it was always to blackout drunk. This caused a lot of problems but being young and coming from a family who never talked about problems those bad nights just ended with fighting and being swept under the rug until there was no more room to do so.

School came and went, and the drinking kept getting worse.  At this point, I knew my drinking was not normal, but I used the term "functional alcoholic" since I was able to graduate college, I could make it to work most days and still pay most of my bills on time.

I remember going to a party at 16 and meeting Vodka, oh I thought she was wonderful, she gave me just enough confidence to talk to a girl!… a fellow ginger, and wouldn’t you know it, those years of sitting back observing, now, with the alcohol in me I had picked up the art of talking shit, I could chat about anything,

I remember very vividly when I began day-drinking by myself and knowing that I was crossing a line. That downward spiral was pretty gradual, but consistent, over a few years. Once the benzos were introduced things became unmanageable very quickly.

I knew, indefinitely, that I had a problem when I was 18. I had been drinking since early morning, one summer day after graduating high school, and totaled my mom's vehicle.

I never believed I could fall to addiction. After the birth of my third child they prescribed Xanax and Hydrocodone. After they took the prescriptions away. That is when I knew I had a problem.

I was later introduced to cocaine. The first time that I tried cocaine, I fell in love with it. For a little while all the pain that I carried within myself, seemed to go away. In my mind cocaine was the answer to all my problems. I convinced myself that, that fantastic drug was put on this earth just for me! It was the beginning of 'fast life'. Every day was a constant never-ending party.