Growing up, society taught me that I should not disclose that I am an alcoholic or an addict – that my addiction is something I should be ashamed of.
I heard this message every time someone described another person’s behavior to be that of a “crackhead.” Every time someone talked about what a “drunk” someone was or called them a “junkie.” And every time politicians on TV talked about the War on Drugs and promised every addict would be locked away in prisons for life.
I believed in this stigma for most of my life.
I thought, as many people still do, that alcoholics were homeless, lazy people, living under bridges drinking their liquor from a bottle in a paper bag. I believed drug addicts were filthy criminals who only knew how to lie, cheat and steal. I believed these things until I became one myself…
It’s because of this stigma that I refused to acknowledge I was sick. I spent the next decade of my life trying to control something that was uncontrollable.
I always smile when someone tells me I don’t “look like an addict.” Not because I blame them for thinking this way, but because who they see in front of them today is a far cry from the person I was in active addiction. When I was sick, I was unrecognizable.
The reality is, I look exactly like an addict.
We are your neighbor, doctor, teacher, co-worker, caretaker, and child. Addiction knows no boundaries. If society wants to paint an honest picture of what an addict looks like, maybe they could start with me.
Here is what I can tell you about my life: I grew up in a loving family, with successful parents and a happy childhood.
I never wanted for anything. There wasn’t any abuse or trauma that I could blame my addiction on. There was no neglect, poverty, or addiction in my home.
Believe me, I have searched my life with a fine-tooth comb, for some pivotal moment that changed everything, and all I can tell you is that the first time I picked up a drink I knew I wanted more. And not like the “Hey that was fun. I think I will do that again sometime” kind of way, but more like the, “I want more. More! Give me MORE!” kind of way.
It’s important that I share this piece of my story with others – that I acknowledge the lack of chaos in my upbringing. Many times, society wants to blame the parents. My parents had absolutely nothing to do with my addiction, but I can tell you their unwavering love and support have had a tremendous impact on my recovery.
I was just a normal teenager, seeking acceptance from my peers and wanting to grow up too fast.
Just a normal teenager experimenting with friends. That experimentation, though harmless at first, lead to full-blown addiction by my mid 20’s. That little girl, with all her hopes and dreams, disappeared.
I did some terrible things in the name of my addiction. I abandoned my family, I was violent and spewed hateful words, and I oftentimes put my addiction before my own daughter’s welfare. I lied, I manipulated, I self-harmed. And at the end of my active addiction, I was reported a missing person. Poof!
As sure as I am sitting here writing this, I can tell you that I didn’t grow up and suddenly announce I wanted to be a professional alcoholic on Career Day. This was learned behavior by a person with the disease of addiction – a sick person, not a bad one.
That does not in any way excuse my behavior. It has taken me years to learn to forgive myself for the damage I caused when I was drinking. Today, I’ve learned to accept that I am not that woman anymore, and I never have to be again. There are times when it seems like a different life altogether.
I spent so many years trying to “figure out my addiction.”
I tried to dissect my life to find some moment in time that turned everything upside down, that made me act the way that I did. Something that made sense of the chaos I had created. Always telling myself I couldn’t possibly be an addict. I wasn’t bad enough yet. I was too young, too educated, and too successful.
I chalked up my three 28 day residential treatments, 7 hospitalized detoxes, and 2 arrests to bad luck. I blamed my impending divorce on my husband and my poor attendance at work on micro-management.
I honestly thought I was fine. I did not have a drinking problem, it was everyone else who had a problem with my drinking.
I denied and denied and denied my alcoholism until the day my disease almost killed me and left my daughter without her mother, and I couldn’t hide from it anymore.
When we are broken, we become willing to change – and I was broken.
Thankfully, I had met many recovery women while in and out of treatment programs – women who had been waiting patiently for me to wake up and choose recovery. They took me under their wings, they held me up when I couldn’t stand on my own and they taught me how to live.
They taught me how to take care of myself, how to be honest, and what it means to have integrity. They taught me how to be a good mother, a responsible employee, and the importance of healthy boundaries. These women have never left my side since, and I am forever grateful to them.
One of the most important things recovery has taught me is to carry the message to the still-suffering addict, and I have been doing my best to honor this commitment throughout my journey. I take my story into women’s prisons, treatment centers, schools, and my community.
I choose to recover out loud because I firmly believe no addict should ever have to suffer in silence. That no addict should ever have to die from this disease. And that there is nothing more inspiring than seeing one addict helping another addict find a new way of life.
My name is Vanessa and I am a woman in long-term recovery.
What that means is that I have not had a drink or drug since October 16th, 2014. I pray that I never forget the despair I felt at the end of my active addiction. I no longer dwell on my past, but I do not wish to shut the door on it either. Every memory, every heartbreak, every regret has helped me become the woman I am today – and today, I am pretty badass!
Every morning, before my feet hit the floor, I make a commitment to myself to stay sober for another 24 hours, and with that one simple task, a beautiful life was created.
We do recover.
***DISCLAIMER: This website, jugglingthejenkins.com, is not affiliated with any specific recovery program. Different avenues work for different people.***
Thankyou so much for your story. I can relate with a lot of it. I’m only a little over a year and a half sober. My husband died 4 years ago of alcoholism and I almost did 2 years ago from the same thing. I’m still trying to forgive myself for all the damage that has been done to our three kids and move past it and be and be a good mom that they deserve.
I hope you know that you are beyond special!! A year and a half is so special!!! So much work that I hope you give in to the greatness of enjoying what you have earned!! Love yourself like we love you!!!
Well done!! And not just your writing abilities but especially your decision to live again, to be an awesome mom and to love yourself !! Your story is just so beautifully inspiring ~ keep it up ♥️
I wish Vanessa could help me
What a moving story and outlook you have!! And it is written so well! Thank you for you wonderful contribution to the world!
Thank you for sharing. Your story was beautifully written! I am a parent of a young adult who is struggling with addiction. This is not an easy road for anyone. I pray my son has a succes story to tell. We are trying so hard to help him.
Thank you for sharing your story. Im in recovery as well, 11 years without a drink.