“Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.” – J.K. Rowling
For much of my life, I sought comfort in alcohol, food, and perfectionism. These were my solutions to uncomfortable emotions, pain, and fear. They promised relief but delivered chaos, shame, and despair. I repeated the same patterns for decades, expecting a different result—but true transformation only came when I surrendered to God.
Old Thinking
As a child, I struggled with intense emotions I didn’t know how to process. Food and perfectionism became ways to control my world, while alcohol later offered temporary confidence and escape. Addiction became my coping mechanism, even though it caused destruction in nearly every area of my life.
For years, I cycled through relapse, reckless behavior, and self-loathing. I hurt myself and others, but chaos became comfortable. When life felt hard, I escaped—immersing myself in alcohol, hiding behind perfection, or numbing myself in other ways. My coping strategies kept me from feeling, but they also kept me trapped.
Hitting Rock Bottom
The turning point came when I realized I was powerless over alcohol. I can’t fix my life on my own. My rock bottom was both terrifying and transformative. I faced the consequences of my actions. I truly surrendered for the first time.
It was in this surrender that I first felt God’s presence. Amid despair, a quiet peace settled over me, reminding me I was not alone. I began to understand that only a power greater than myself restore me to sanity. Alcoholics Anonymous calls this Step 2:
“We came to be aware that a Power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity.”
For me, that Power is God.
Lessons Learned in Recovery
Recovery taught me that chaos was familiar, but calm was a gift from God. Avoidance strategies only deepened pain; facing life honestly brought freedom. I learned that to break the cycle, I had to do at least one thing differently. It was one step at a time. I was guided by faith.
Even after my spiritual awakening, the pull of addiction was strong. A week after my arrest, I found a way to drink one last time. The alcohol tasted revolting, and I felt disgusted with myself. That was my final drink, and five years later, I stay free from the chains of alcohol. It was God’s grace that gave me the strength to resist, and every day since has been a gift.
Even though I had surrendered and given up alcohol, I still wrestled with old struggles and temptations. I still loved Jesus but was occasionally drawn back to the dark side. Recovery was not about instant perfection. It was about the calmness and clarity. These came from surrendering to God and trusting Him with my life. That calmness became the foundation for true change.
God at the Center of My Recovery
Sobriety alone not have healed me. God addressed the root of my struggles, teaching me to face discomfort, process my emotions, and confront fear with faith. He replaced despair with hope, fear with faith, self-loathing with love, and chaos with purpose.
Through prayer, surrender, and community, I learned to let go of self-will and embrace His plan. Every meeting, every moment of reflection, and every small step forward became infused with His grace. Addiction had masked a deeper need for trust and connection—and only God fill that void.
Life After Surrender
Recovery is not instant or perfect. Life still presents challenges, but with God guiding me, I navigate discomfort with honesty, courage, and faith. Sobriety is no longer a battle against alcohol alone—it is a journey of spiritual growth.
Hope: Replacing despair with faith in God’s plan.
Calm: Learning to sit with difficult emotions instead of fleeing from them.
Strength: Trusting that God equips me for the challenges I face.
Purpose: Understanding that even past pain has shaped my path for good.
Love and Self-Worth: Embracing God’s love and seeing myself as He sees me.
Every day is a choice: to surrender, to stay vigilant, and to walk in faith. Addiction is relentless, but God’s presence is stronger. I have learned that when I turn to Him, I am never alone. The lies of fear lose their power.
The Promises of Sobriety
Sobriety is not the key to happiness—it is a step toward freedom. By giving up alcohol and other numbing behaviors, I have learned to live life fully and authentically. I feel calmer, more self-loving, and more connected to myself, others, and God.
“My worst day sober is better than my best day drunk.”
Recovery requires persistence, courage, and humility. It’s about facing life on life’s terms, trusting God, and building a foundation of faith. The gifts of sobriety—clarity, peace, connection, and purpose—are abundant when we choose to surrender.
Through AA and the spiritual practice of handing over my will to God, I experienced self-transcendence. I discovered a sense of connection to something larger than myself. The parallels between spiritual growth and recovery became undeniable. God’s guidance transformed my mind, heart, and life. Community support was crucial. Consistent reflection also brought transformation.
Transformation Is Ongoing
Even now, I still face challenges, but I have learned to respond differently. I no longer run from discomfort or numb my feelings. Life is not always easy, but I now process emotions through prayer, reflection, and support. My faith reminds me that everything I face has a purpose, and God’s grace is constant.
Sobriety is not about perfection—it’s about progress. Every step I take is grounded in faith, humility, and gratitude. I no longer live in fear; instead, I move ahead with hope, guided by God’s wisdom and presence.
Conclusion
Addiction was never my true problem; fear was. My coping strategies once protected me, but they no longer serve me. Surrendering to God has freed me from the chains of my old life and transformed my heart.
Today, I am grateful for sobriety, guided by God, and committed to living authentically. My life is not perfect, but I have clarity, peace, and purpose. Through His grace, I can show up fully for my daughters, my community, and myself.
Sobriety is a gift, and faith in God is the foundation. Every step ahead is a step into His light, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, transformation is possible.
“Every day sober is a victory, and every moment surrendered to God is a step toward lasting freedom.”
“Mrs. Leslie, why are you lying on the floor?” asked a curious Kindergarten student.
“I don’t know,” I replied. Suddenly the reality of being on the ground hit me as I realized that I had fainted at school. “Go tell the teacher,” I said to the two young students who were now standing beside me.
“Okay,” they said and walked towards my classroom.
“Actually” I started to say, “It’s okay, I’ll get up.” As I began to stand up, I felt increasingly light-headed again.
“Okay, bye,” said the boy as he skipped to the hallway.
“I’m going to tell an adult,” said the girl, and off she went to tell the teacher.
Moments later my Principal was sitting on the floor beside me. The guilt and shame hit me. I was embarrassed and would not look her in the eye. To top it off, my parents were called to pick me up from my school.
During the Christmas holidays, I fell back into some old habits. Unbeknownst to loved ones, I veered off track from my recovery. It was the fourth day back from the break and I knew that was why I had fainted.
I afterward took a few days off work to refocus and regroup. I did not want my setback to take me down a dark path of full blown eating disorder (ED) again. I needed to get back on my recovery path.
I had an extensive discussion with my counselor. It helped me unpack what happened and why I had became unraveled after doing relatively well over the past few months. She instructed me to have compassion with myself as I had obviously struggled to manage how things were going. As a result, I resorted to old habits by default.
Anorexia and bulimia have provided me with a (false and misleading) sense of control. This happens when things have felt out of my control. Somehow restricting my food intake or fixating on food and exercise distracts me from my everyday challenges. It seems illogical when I think about it in a healthier mindset. But it feels perfectly logical when I am stuck in ED mode.
My current focus needs to be what I can do moving ahead to resume a healthy course. Reflecting on my own behaviour will help me become more attuned to signs of distress. This awareness can help prevent exposure to triggers and future mishaps.
I am grateful for and committed to continuing my recovery. That being said, dang it is difficult and exhausting sometimes. I have learned a great deal about the road to recovery and how difficult it can be.
Recovery is not linear
I felt down and discouraged after fainting. Then, I was reminded of how far I have come since committing to getting well. I have fallen back into negative habits after a period of improvement. Still, I am not the broken girl that I used to be.
My recovery journey began in February 2019 after hitting a rock bottom and mental health crisis. I began my mental health journey to face substance abuse, anorexia, bulimia, and trauma. This included two trips to residential rehab. I have not had alcohol since July 2020 after a DUI charge and spiritual awakening. (Read my other blog posts to learn more about my story).
My father reminded me that I have more self-awareness and identified my setback early and am taking action. My tolerance for maladaptive behaviour is lower before taking action to handle any setbacks. Yet, in the past, I would have little regard for my bad habits as they were part of my normal. Each time I have a reset, I am getting stronger, wiser, and quicker at rebooting my recovery habits.
Now six years into it, I know firsthand that recovery is not smooth sailing. The road to recovery often includes a series of setbacks. It also has periods of progress. Each misstep can be an opportunity to learn and grow. Setbacks are part of the process.
Recovery is a journey to say the least. It is messy, rewarding, and exhausting. Things will not always go in a linear direction. This means it does not progress smoothly from one stage to the next. In spite of that, two steps ahead, one step back is still movement in the right direction.
Recovery means recreating your identity
Recovery has given me an identity crisis. I am in this uncomfortable transformation. My old self is gone but my new self is not fully born yet. I feel like I am an impostor in two worlds. Where do I fit in?
Inner turmoil and struggles have defined my identity for decades. Chaos has felt comfortable and familiar to me. Hiding behind facades like perfectionism hid my true self. Avoiding vulnerability kept others at a distance.
Creating a new identity is an important part of recovery. If not struggling then who am I? I am no longer in the thick of my struggles so do not connect with that anymore. Yet I am not quite the healthy, stable woman that I aspire to be.
After being sexually assaulted at age 15, my emotional growth was stunted. In many ways I am much like a teenager learning how to navigate life. Everything feels like unfamiliar territory. I am this new person interacting with the world so differently.
I am rebuilding a new identity that reflects me, and not just my mental health issues. I openly share about my struggles and self-recognize as in recovery. That’s not all that I am. Nor is it all that I want to be. Recovery has given me an opportunity to explore new interests, set goals, and create a new narrative for myself.
Struggling with feelings of inadequacy or inferiority in my relationships is still common for me. I often feel like my mental health struggles are shortcomings and a burden to others. I am navigating my transformation. With the birth of the new me, I am grateful for the support and encouragement of my family and friends. I look ahead to finding my purpose and growing into the woman that God has destined me to be.
Recovery is more than just removing bad habits
Looking for happiness in all the wrong ways is something that I have done for too long. For twenty years, I always hoped that the next thing (e.g. new job, parenthood, beauty secret etc.) would bring me happiness. Predictably, nothing filled the void and my emptiness continued; thus perpetuating my mental illness.
I initially went to rehab with the goal of overcoming substance abuse. I also aimed to tackle disordered eating and trauma recovery. In doing so I expected that my problems would disappear and I would be happy. I have since learned that those vices were not my problem, they were my solution. My problems remained. Except now I needed to deal with them sober and in new, healthier ways.
Recovery requires looking at the underlying reasons behind the negative behavior and working to address them. Without dealing with the root issues, I am merely “white-knuckling” it and will continue to relapse into old habits. I must stick with my recovery plan or else old stimuli will yield the same results.
Recovery involves actively developing new, healthy routines and habits to replace the old destructive ones. The brain can be rewired byrepeatedly making the right choices to strengthen those new neural pathways. The more you practice a new behavior, the easier and more natural it becomes. The brain will disconnect the paths that are no longer used.
Not to be forgotten is the importance of social support in recovery.Building positive relationships and a supportive network is a vital part of recovery. I am grateful for the people that are also in recovery plus those rooting for me at the sidelines.
Relapsing exemplifies that recovery is going beyond simply stopping negative behavior and involves making consistent lifestyle choices. Looking back, I can see that in the busyness of life this fall, I did not focus on my recovery. This oversight caused me to lose momentum and unknowingly fall backwards.
Summary
I feel fed up with the thoughts holding my mind captive. This feeling intensifies especially when others in the world are sick, dying, and grieving. People are going through divorces, depression, or unemployment. All while I am fighting with food and eating. It feels selfish. I have to remember that mental health disorders are medical conditions. They can affect a person’s thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and perceptions. Knowing this, I am trying to be compassionate with myself.
To overcome my challenges, I am doing my best to try again and get back up after falling. The old me was based in secrecy and isolation. The new version is trying to do better by being open and honest. I am not where I want to be but I will continue working towards that.
Recovery is a lifelong journey, requiring ongoing commitment and adjustments. I will continue to fight the good fight. I am committed to recovery and overcoming my challenges. Recovery takes consistent, constant work and habit formation to keep yourself growing. I am also thankful for the people in my life that continue to support and encourage me.
I aim to find lasting ways to achieve happiness and fulfillment. I also want to engage with my life after being disconnected from it for too long. I wish it was easier. Yet I am grateful for my recovery. I will continue to push at it. I will grow into the person that God has destined me to be.
For anyone still struggling, know that the road to recovery is not easy but it is worth it. Recovery is a choice and you have to want to get better, despite all the obstacles that lay ahead. You will have ups and downs, progress, and setbacks. Two steps ahead, one step back is still progress despite setbacks. Just keep moving onward. You can do it!
“When we deny our stories, they define us. When we own our stories, we get to write a brave new ending”
Brené Brown
Where I Was
Five years ago today, I woke up in the hospital after an intentional overdose. I was depressed and hopeless, not believing that I would overcome all my inner struggles. I strongly believed that my young daughters and family were better off without me.
That fateful day marked the beginning of a long, difficult road to get well. Today I barely recognize the broken girl that I used to be. My story has gone from one of sadness and desperation to one filled with love and hope. I have been completely transformed and feel like I have a new chance at life.
During my darkest time, I made a vow. I promised to share how to get well if I can figure it out. I would also tell others how to do it too. Having said that, welcome to the start of my blog and sharing of my recovery journey.
Let me go back to the beginning. I have long struggled with my mental health. I grew up in a loving family and while a happy child, I remember experiencing anxiety from a young age. Although at the time, I did not know what I was feeling and simply felt restless and uneasy.
As a young child, I was a people–pleaser. I used being a “good girl” to hide my uncomfortable emotions. An eating disorder was an early refuge from my inner nerves. In hindsight, I was a little girl. I was trying to find order in my world. This happened when things felt out of my control. By grade 4, I was showing signs of disordered eating. By age 12, I was in treatment for an eating disorder.
My life derailed at age 15, when I was sexually assaulted. It instantly left me feeling detached from myself and the world, as I struggled to at the same time comprehend and bury what had happened. I was left in a paralyzed state – overwhelmed, ashamed, and broken.
Despair took hold of me and shortly thereafter I attempted suicide. I survived and was hospitalized in an adolescent psych ward for nearly 2 weeks. Afterward, I returned to high school. I acted like everything was normal. I hid behind perfectionism, distractions, and a variety of vices (mainly disordered eating and alcohol). I simply shut down; incapable of dealing with my emotions. I was traumatized and the trajectory of my life completely altered.
I was traumatized and the trajectory of my life completely altered.
I struggled with my mental health throughout university. Eventually, I went to treatment for anorexia and bulimia in New York State after my third year. Counselors wanted me to discuss my past sexual trauma. I panicked. I dropped out of the treatment program early. As a result, my eating disorder persisted and my mental health remained poor.
For twenty years, my issues persisted but I always hoped that the next thing (e.g. new job, wedding, parenthood, buying a home, beauty secret etc.) would bring me happiness. Predictably, nothing filled the void and my emptiness continued. I felt a definite ‘hole in my soul.’ I tried to fill it in all the wrong places. This behavior perpetuated my mental illness.
I was like a pressure cooker with the pressure mounting. For more than two decades, I struggled with my mental health. I was in denial. I vehemently avoided my emotions and felt detached from life. Not surprisingly, this led to multiple stints in psych wards, rehab, and jail. Plus a whole lot of drama and worry. (I am incredibly thankful for my amazing husband, family, and friends that stood by and supported me).
Without release, a pressure cooker will eventually explode. That’s exactly what happened to me five years ago. I was depressed, hopeless, and overwhelmed with life – confident that I was a failure and would never get better. This false belief caused me to try suicide and landed me in hospital; thus beginning my long recovery journey.
A Seed of Hope
After having my stomach pumped, I laid awake for much of the night feeling ashamed and defeated. I was a mom to two beautiful young daughters. Now, Family and Children’s Services was assessing whether I was mentally fit to mother my own children.
The emergency psychiatrist evaluated me and reviewed my history. He suggested that I have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) after sexual assault. He also mentioned that many of my issues be rectified if I mentally processed that event.
He proceeded to explain that traumatic experiences shape the brain and change neurobiology. Your experiences influence who you are. They also affect how you behave socially. Additionally, they impact you emotionally and physically.
This conversation gave me hope and was pivotal to understanding my own trauma. I was finally capable of seeing that I acted the way I did. It wasn’t because I was crazy. It was because I had experienced trauma and had not dealt with it.
I was finally capable of seeing that I acted the way I did. It wasn’t because I was crazy. It was because I had experienced trauma and had not dealt with it.
I felt hopeful that I could recover and that moment was the start of my recovery journey. I promptly took a leave from teaching to focus on getting well. The decision was quickly made. I would go to Homewood (rehab center) to intensively focus on my mental health struggles. This would take place during their eight-week in-patient program.
When I arrived at rehab, doctors openly doubted my future success in the program. My shield of perfectionism was obvious. My fear of vulnerability was not congruent with the group therapy model.
I certainly struggled to be open and vulnerable. My sense of loneliness gradually diminished as I connected and felt understood by others with related issues. I genuinely laughed and felt a little lighter for the first time in a long time. Yet, as at my earlier treatment facility, I left Homewood with unfinished business. I still would not discuss my trauma.
I learned many valuable skills while at rehab. I grew in many ways. Nonetheless, my poor coping strategies were most familiar and accessible. Practising daily recovery habits proved difficult at home with two young daughters. I relapsed and my life quickly began to spiral out of control again. I left Homewood in May 2019 and was back in November for another eight-week program.
I knew that things were not going to improve. I was not going to keep sobriety or mental wellness. This would persist until I faced and worked through what had happened to me, whether I wanted to or not. Denial of trauma is a defense mechanism that protects you from emotional pain. Except that was not working for me anymore. Now it was only causing me more pain and destruction. My recovery was my responsibility and I needed to own it.
I went back to rehab. I worked tremendously hard for a time. But as I had done before, I fled when things got too emotionally difficult. For the third consecutive time, I dropped out of rehab against medical advice in December 2019.
A lot happened in my life after this. I lost my driver’s license for leaving rehab against doctor’s orders. I continued outpatient day treatment. Then, I broke my ankle and required surgery, which rendered me unable to walk for 3 months. It eventually took a full year and another surgery as my ankle did not heal properly. Of course, Covid disrupted the world, affecting everyone. Needless to say, I continued my downward spiral (and was a magnet for chaos).
I had already gone to rehab twice in the previous year. I was still struggling with alcohol and food. I felt increasingly hopeless about ever recovering. I was not in a good place emotionally, spiritually or physically.
In July 2020, this reckless behavior came to a halt. I was pulled over and charged with impaired driving. I was placed in a jail cell. I sat hugging my legs against the cold concrete wall for hours. I was just going over things in my head.
I was immensely disappointed in myself. I knew that I only move ahead. I had to accept the ramifications of my actions. I recognized that this was my final rock bottom and the wake-up call that I desperately needed. I thanked God profusely for keeping myself and others safe while I was driving that day. Things could have easily ended in a tragically different way.
Miraculously, in the days after my arrest and time in jail, I felt an obvious shift within me. I had an epiphany. All the craziness in my life, pain, and struggle was making sense. I was finally capable of seeing it. I realized that everything in my life happened exactly as it did for a reason, including my trauma. Without these events, I would not have my two beautiful daughters. There was no point in continuing to run away from my past. This new acceptance brought tremendous peace as I was able to embrace my past as necessary to my current.
This change of heart put me in the right direction. I still had to face the consequences of my criminal charges. Additionally, I needed to put the necessary work into maintaining my recovery. The point is that I saw the work ahead of me. I no longer felt my usual avoidance or trepidation. Instead, I had a newfound faith and stillness in my heart.
I stopped drinking and committed to getting and staying sober. I still struggled with disordered eating but giving up alcohol was a necessary starting point. The longer I gave up alcohol, the clearer my thoughts became, and I started noticing big shifts in my thinking. The absence of alcohol brought about significant changes. My willingness to be honest and open with myself also contributed to these changes.
I stayed off work for another year as I continued to solidify my recovery. I was 14 months alcohol-free when I gradually returned to work in fall 2021. Unfortunately, shortly after returning to work full-time, I started experiencing signs of diminished mental health. By January 2022, I continued a downturn. I turned again to dysfunctional coping strategies to manage. These included eating disorder behaviours and using marijuana. This affected my ability to be an effective teacher.
I had made good progress during my earlier few years. Yet, it was clear that I still had some issues to work through. These issues were keeping me in a state of mental sickness. My doctor agreed and I reluctantly took yet another leave of absence from work during the 2022/2023 school year. This decision was especially difficult. I had to admit that I returned to work and failed. So, I had to take another leave.
I decided against inpatient treatment. I was motivated to recover and felt like being at home was best for my family. I worked with a dietitian three times weekly to gain weight. I also focused on developing consistent eating habits and improving my relationship with food. Additionally, I had sessions twice weekly with a counselor where we focused on trauma recovery. It was a productive and healing year – the necessary final leg of my long wellness journey.
In September 2023, I returned to teaching Kindergarten full-time. That was the first time in my career that I felt calm and content with both life and work. I enjoy my job and it feels rewarding to be back in the classroom and school community. That being said, I am still learning to trust calm and stillness, as chaos was before most familiar and comfortable.
Where I Am Now
Today I feel completely transformed as I have a peace within that I never thought possible. I now have healthy coping strategies and am 3.5 years alcohol-free; sober, and without disordered eating habits. I am no longer stuck in inner chaos. I have learned how to calm my emotional storms and take control of my well-being.
Today I feel completely transformed as I possess a peace within that I never thought possible.
I feel blessed to have a second chance at life. I have since learned that alcohol, eating disorder and perfectionism were not my problem – they were my solution. Fear was my problem. I was afraid of facing my emotions; fearful of vulnerability; fearful of not measuring up; fearful of failure and more. Instead of facing my fears, I found ways to avoid and hide behind them. I have since learned that fear is a liar. I cannot always believe the fear that creeps inside my head.
Author Brené Brown’s words deeply resonated with me. They gave me strength and courage to write my own ending to a story I once thought hopeless. “When we deny the story, it defines us. When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending.” After two decades, my sexual assault no longer defines or controls me. That is life-changing and empowering to me – I am grateful to have (finally) changed the end of my story.
I am proof that healing is possible and with that comes post-traumatic wisdom and growth. I have learned that sharing one’s story is powerful. Take what has happened to you. Turn it into power. I used to think of my vulnerabilities as weaknesses so I hid my true self from the world. I now embrace vulnerability. I feel compelled to share what I have gained along my journey to mental wellness. I want to help others that are struggling.
Recovery is not easy but it is well worth it. Recovery is a choice and you have to want to get better, despite all the obstacles that lay ahead. And when you have hope, you will never be alone. Sometimes the smallest step in the right direction ends up being the biggest step of your life. Tip toe if you must, but take the step.
Throughout my recovery, writing has become a therapeutic outlet. I have discovered that I am louder on the inside than I have ever known. My story’s ending is continually evolving. I step out of my darkness and continue my pursuit of becoming authentically me. I am no longer ashamed of my past and now see the strength and courage in my recovery. My future feels bright and hopeful. I am excited to see where my recovery journey will continue to take me. I look ahead to sharing all that I have learned along the way – hope, healing, and owning your story.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading my story. :-)
If you are struggling with your mental health, please reach out for help. You are not alone. Reach out and connect with someone.
If you or someone you know is thinking about suicide, call or text 9-8-8, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
If you are not in crisis but looking for additional mental health support, there are numerous free apps or online resources for dealing with stress, anxiety, depression, addiction, PTSD etc.
Stepping Out of the Shadows 