“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.”
I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to be.
– Carl Jung
Old Thinking
Learning to overcome my trauma has been the most difficult aspect of my recovery. It has also been incredibly liberating as I have released myself from the chains of my past. Trauma changed me but it no longer controls me.
Being sexually assaulted at age 15 had an immediate life-changing and damaging effect on my life. I was left feeling overwhelmed, ashamed, and disconnected from life. I was not developmentally able to process what had happened and despair quickly took hold, causing me to attempt suicide shortly afterwards.
I subsequently remained hospitalized in an adolescent psych ward for nearly 2 weeks, then returned to high school like everything was normal – hiding behind perfectionism, distractions, and a variety of vices (mainly disordered eating and alcohol). I simply shut down; unable to deal with my emotions. I was traumatized and unaware how much this incident would control me over the next twenty years.
I continued to struggle with my mental health throughout university and eventually ended up going to treatment for anorexia and bulimia in New York State after my third year. When counselors pushed me to talk about my past sexual trauma, I panicked and dropped out of the treatment program early. Consequently, my eating disorder persisted and my mental health remained poor.
Unbeknownst to me, trauma was affecting my life in multiple ways beyond being in denial. I carried around substantial shame about what had happened which perpetuated my dysfunctional coping mechanisms like alcohol abuse and disordered eating. My life was consistently full of drama as my emotions were running the show. I was anxious, irrational, and overreactive. I was also depressed and disengaged with life, lacking meaningful connections to others largely due to trust issues and a fear of vulnerability. The light of who I was had dimmed to near darkness.
There were countless times that I could not understand why I acted the way I did. I could not articulate my needs or override my emotional brain when it was triggered, causing over-activity and over-reactivity (e.g. fight/flight/freeze response). Men were a strong trigger for me.
For instance, one time I was intimidated by a guy at a bar so I abruptly left the bar (without telling anyone) because I felt unsafe and needed to escape.
Another time I fainted at university and woke up to several firefighters surrounding me. I became overwhelmed and aggressive (much to the surprise of the professionals trying to help me).
These instances of my emotional brain taking over were usually followed by embarrassment and a realization that my reaction was inappropriate and over the top. Thus continuing my belief that I was crazy and forever mentally unstable.
For more than two decades, I struggled with my mental health and was in denial, vehemently avoiding my emotions and detached from life. Not surprisingly, this led to multiple stints in psych wards, rehab, and jail. I felt hopeless that I would recover from my inner anguish and that my daughters were better off without me and my plethora of issues. Thus leading to an intentional overdose in February 2019.
Learning in Recovery
Afterwards in the hospital, the Psychiatrist assessing me explained that I acted the way I did due to unresolved trauma. He proceeded to tell me that trauma is any pattern of activating your stress response system that leads to a lasting emotional response long after the traumatic event has ended.
Trauma changes your brain activity and neurobiology. The stuff that happens to you plays a role in who you are and how you behave – socially, emotionally, and physically.
This conversation gave me hope and was pivotal to understanding my own behaviour. I was finally able to see that I acted the way I did, not because I was crazy, but because I had experienced trauma and not dealt with it.
Once in rehab I learned a great deal about the impact of trauma. I was told that “You are not responsible for what happened to you but your recovery is your responsibility”. Trauma is complex and healing would require a multifaceted approach.
I became aware that I was living in hypervigilance, an elevated state of alertness. My limbic system (emotional brain) was hyperactive and prone to respond more impulsively, called an Amygdala Hijack.
With someone that has experienced trauma, stimuli can trigger overactivity in the amygdala (part of the limbic system that detects danger) and causes a sudden and intense emotional response that is an overreaction to the event (e.g. fear). This ‘hijacking’ occurs when the amygdala takes control and prepares the body for fight, flight, or freeze.
The more the amygdala is used, it will continue to grow in density and is more likely to be triggered again in the future. This helped explain why I would often overreact to situations and not understand my intense reaction. Therefore, I needed to learn how to get out of autopilot by gaining control over my brain’s emotional reactions.
I learned to take a pause when I felt my limbic system being activated. To return to the safety of the present moment, I developed skills that “ground” me in the present. These skills help to focus or reconnect me so that I begin to safely feel emotions without fight-or-flight response. Grounding skills are behaviours that distract and refocus you, so that you can safely cope. Essentially learning to tolerate distress instead of “acting out” and falling victim to emotions again.
Another important aspect of my trauma recovery was learning the importance of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) to rewire my logical brain to override my emotional brain. Through CBT training, the brain actually reinforces the neural pathways and they become stronger so it becomes increasingly easier to deal with stressful situations. I regularly practiced various healthy thinking patterns to reinforce and strengthen the paths in my brain and change my immediate responses.
Additionally, during trauma treatment I was required to address ‘stuck points’ that kept cycling through my head. I learned that when trauma occurs, false beliefs take hold as your subconscious tries to make sense of things. The traumatic event had a negative effect on my beliefs about myself, others, and the world in many areas, including my sense of safety, trust, power/control, esteem, intimacy, and more. By systematically working through each stuck point, I was able to logically refute the lies that I had been telling myself for years.
In treatment I also learned the healing power of connecting. I was blessed to have been put in an all women trauma group and felt safe and secure as I worked through trauma. Being vulnerable and connecting with others was new to me as “trauma compromises our ability to engage with others by replacing patterns of connection with patterns of protection” (Stephen Porges)
Recovering from trauma also required me to forgive myself and acknowledge that I did not cause what happened to me and I needed to free myself from that belief. Developing self-compassion has been pivotal to my healing. By becoming more kind, warm, and understanding with myself, I was (finally) able to process and heal my wounds.
New Thinking
I am proof that recovery from trauma is possible. I am no longer a victim and have been freed from my past which once defined me. It has been a long and difficult journey but well worth it. I feel like I have a second chance at life.
Being told that my behaviour and mental issues were due to unresolved trauma gave me hope that I could get well. For years I had tried to suppress what had happened but my subconscious would not forget and I was left with emotional residue from not addressing things. I can now see that I was, unknowingly, living in a state of Amygdala Hijack for over twenty years due to trauma.
It took me multiple trips to rehab but I eventually came to know that things were not going to improve and I was not going to maintain sobriety or mental wellness 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.
Recovery required a multifaceted approach in addition to diligence and dedication. I needed to address the unprocessed feelings of the incident and learn new skills. Fortunately neurobiology allows brain connections to be changed to create new pathways to health. Today I have learned to ground myself and no longer feel overtaken by emotions or perceived threats.
I continue to work on challenging my unhealthy thinking patterns and am more comfortable facing unpleasant emotions and stressful situations. I no longer feel the need to avoid my emotions with alcohol or disordered eating. Sobriety has enabled me to see things more clearly and logically.
Additionally, I am more trusting of men and no longer look at them under a cloud of suspicion. Furthermore by understanding the behavioral patterns behind trauma, I have increased my compassion and awareness as a teacher.
Trauma can be caused by a big or small traumatic event: neglect, divorce, abuse, living in a war zone, bullying etc. The same event will be processed by people differently so may be traumatic to some and not others.
Unresolved trauma will not go away. Trauma can make you more vulnerable to developing mental health problems (especially addiction) and negatively impact your well-being.
I encourage you to talk to someone if you have been through trauma and not processed it. I experienced the healing and freeing power of sharing my secret as some things are too big of a burden to carry alone.
It has been a long road for me to learn to give up my dysfunctional ways and thinking, and develop new healthy ways of dealing with myself and life. I am excited for this new chapter in my life as overcoming trauma brings post-traumatic wisdom and growth.
The sharing of your story is powerful so take what has happened to you and turn it into power.
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference”
Dr. Reinhold Niebuhr
Old Thinking
Learning to recognize and accept things out of my control has been pivotal to my mental health recovery. When we see and accept reality for what it is, we can then respond wisely to challenges while maintaining our calm.
From a young age, I struggled with anxiety and I looked for ways to regain control when things felt out of control in my world. I was eager to outrun anxiety and somehow anorexia and perfectionism allowed me to temporarily ignore my discomfort by providing me with a false sense of control.
In later years, I would seek to escape my pain or discomfort with alcohol or drugs. I also used to obsessively ruminate about past events. I would replay things over and over in my head – unable to accept what happened. I had poor coping skills which perpetuated my mental illness.
Even while in rehab, despite choosing to be there, I fought it tooth and nail. I struggled with the reality of having to be vulnerable to get well. Initially I avoided being vulnerable; therefore I was not making recovery progress. Then when threatened with discharge if I did not attempt to open up, I demonstrated some vulnerability except then fell back into old disordered eating habits and relapsed with alcohol. I was fighting reality and attempting to control the exposure that I felt from vulnerability.
In March 2020, I broke my tibia and fibula playing hockey and was hospitalized for nine days before having surgery (allowing swelling to subside). Being regularly active is hugely important for my mental health so I was devastated by the severity of my break and the uncertain recovery prognosis. Needless to say, I was frustrated and angry about the situation and spent considerable time stewing about it.
Unbeknownst to everyone, things were about to get significantly worse for me and the entire world. Two days after returning home, the Corona virus sent the world into a frenzy and basically shut down Ontario. I was in disbelief and overwhelmed with all that was suddenly on my plate. With poor stress management skills, I soon resorted back to alcohol and disordered eating.
During one of my weekly check-ins with the Orthopedic Surgeon at the Fracture Clinic, he asked about my ankle recovery. I proceeded to explain that I was struggling with both alcohol abuse and anorexia and wondered if he could tell me which was worse for my ankle healing so I could exercise some harm reduction.
The Surgeon was taken aback by my question but seeing that I was serious, he first suggested that I seek psychiatric treatment (already on top of it, Doc). Then he discussed the importance of proper nutrition at that time to properly fuse my ankle back together while also stating that alcohol will rob my bones of necessary nutrients. He did not have a straight answer to give me other than encouraging me to seek recovery for both issues.
As months dragged on, between the ongoing pandemic, my ankle, and poor mental health, I felt depressed, angry, and resentful about life. (Remembering that I had relapsed and left rehab against medical advice only two months prior so was already mentally unstable). I desperately needed some wisdom to change my thinking and get me out of a downward spiral. As I was not mobile and could do little else, there was no better time to learn about acceptance than during a seemingly endless pandemic when so much felt out of control.
Learned in Recovery
The book “Radical Acceptance ” by Tara Brach was recommended to me to help shift my perspective at that difficult time. It was immediately transformative as I began to see how much I was getting in my own way and exacerbating my inner anguish by denying reality.
Radical acceptance is about accepting yourself, current situation, and life – without fighting it. It is a distress tolerance skill designed to keep pain from turning into suffering.
Practicing radical acceptance essentially means being able to make it through an emotional experience without making it worse. Radical acceptance does not mean that you like or condone the situation but simply accept it in order to better move through it. It means accepting reality by acknowledging that the event happened.
People often choose to ignore or reject certain kinds of pain or use unhealthy coping habits to minimize or numb the discomfort. However, by not accepting reality, pain turns into suffering, which causes ongoing distress. I was able to see that I had been doing this my whole life.
My previous approach to facing adversity was the opposite. I was an expert at numbing, resisting and pushing back against my pain and reality – even when things were clearly out of my control. This solved nothing as my situation stayed the same and I perpetuated my struggles.
That is precisely what happened every time I went to rehab. I wanted to get well but then resisted the necessary steps needed to do so. Breaking open the facade that I put on and exposing my true self felt too unsafe for me; so I continued to avoid like I have always done to escape the pain. Predictably, it did not work and actually intensified my suffering. As Brach stated: What we resist grows. An internal shift happened once I realized that I needed to lean into the discomfort (Brené Brown’s words) and put my defenses down.
This point was made especially clear to me after I was charged with impaired driving and hit my lowest point. I was at a crossroads and had an important choice to make: either see this incident as bad luck and continue on my dark path; or accept the reality that I had a serious alcohol problem which led me to drive under the influence. Fortunately after sitting in a jail cell for hours, the answer was crystal clear to me and I accepted reality. There was no more escaping the red flags and this was my turning point and final rock bottom. By the grace of God, I have been freed from the bonds of alcohol since July 2020.
The Serenity Prayer is a foundational element of Alcoholic Anonymous and other 12-step meetings. It reminds those in recovery to let go of things out of your control and to have the courage to take action with the things that are in your control: “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference”.
While I had been familiar with this prayer for years from attending meetings, it was not until I read Radical Acceptance that I truly understood the meaning. The wisdom to identify things in my control and things out of my control is crucial. It is the difference between inner peace and chaos.
New Thinking
Radical Acceptance is liberating and my life has become calmer as I have stopped fighting reality. I now live through life’s circumstances as they are. I may not like the situation, but I accept it if I cannot change it. By reframing my thoughts to acceptance and kindness, I show myself compassion and lessen my own suffering; resulting in greater serenity and well-being. Today I embrace that stress happens and I have the power to choose my response.
In March 2021, a year after the first surgery, I continued to have substantial ankle pain and it was determined that my ankle was still broken. My tibia did not heal properly (which the Surgeon attributed to poor nutrition). That meant another surgery and off my ankle again for another 3 months. I was immediately disappointed, frustrated and angry. However, having now learned about radical acceptance and being alcohol-free for 8 months, I was able to accept my new reality without resorting to old habits. I regarded this setback with compassion and allowed myself to experience frustration for a short time before acknowledging it was out of my control and going forward. Improved resilience and the ability to bounce back from adversity allowed me to move on while keeping my mental health recovery progress intact this time around.
The hard truth is that life will not always go as planned and life is not always fair. Things will happen that will upset you. Thankfully, you always have two choices: you can accept it or you can fight it. By embracing your journey and where you are at instead of rejecting it, your life will be calmer. Let it be, let it go.
You may not be able to change the situation but you can control how you react to it. Like the old proverb states: “We cannot direct the wind but we can adjust our sail”. Brach suggests taking a sacred pause when negative emotions come up. In this pause, we can notice the emotion and the experience of it. That is the (aforementioned) wisdom of deciphering what you can and cannot control.
Improved stress management skills have drastically improved my daily teaching too. As a Kindergarten teacher with 30 students, things do not always go as planned. Tiny humans are busy and there are inevitably things that are out of my control. I love my job but sometimes there are moments of chaos or frustration. I no longer get stuck in these feelings but am now able to take a deep breath and acknowledge my emotions and move forward with calmness.
Radical acceptance has transformed my life and I encourage others to learn more about it to enhance inner calmness and resilience. Have self-compassion and remind yourself that the situation is only temporary and will eventually end (even the neverending pandemic finally did). When life knocks you down, you get up, brush yourself off and keep moving on. You may be angry, upset, and disappointed but you cannot stay that way for long because life moves on.
Like the Serenity Prayer states, acknowledge that you cannot change or control everything. Accept life on life’s terms without fighting back. If you can change things then courageously do so. The key point is to have the wisdom to know the difference – for the sake of your serenity, and sanity. When we stop being at war with ourselves and life, we are free to enjoy all life’s moments, including the mountains and the valleys.
“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 