You deserve healing. You deserve to be loved. And you deserve to be happy.

For some, those words can be incredibly difficult to hear, and nearly impossible to believe.

I used to struggle heavily with drinking. I drank daily. Even when I began to make an honest effort, I struggled. Over time, I began to notice the signs that I was about to drink. I never understood the reasons behind those signs, but I recognized them nonetheless.

There were days when I gave as much of myself to others as I could. I would be more outgoing at work. My customer service was phenomenal. I was there for my friends and family. I gave absolutely anything I thought they needed, and offered even more that they never asked for.

When I was in this mode on my days off, I would come home and deep clean. Dishes, walls, floors, the toilet. I was a machine. Sometimes I would spend hours rearranging the furniture, or placing new decorations I had purchased.

Then I would sit on my clean floor with nothing to do. I had distracted myself, but I hadn’t actually dealt with anything. Almost inevitably, I would drink. Even though I didn’t actually want to. And I couldn’t understand why.

I considered the possibility I was “rewarding” myself for a job well done. Something about that conclusion never quite felt right, but I couldn’t come up with anything else. It took four months of sobriety and therapy for me to figure it out.

I’m sharing this with you because I don’t want you to go through the same struggle of realization that I did.

Alcohol wasn’t a reward for taking care of others and cleaning my house. Taking care of others and cleaning my house was a substitute for processing a trigger.

Something, somewhere along the line had happened to me in the days or weeks leading up to drinking. And although I recognized the signs, I could never understand them. I didn’t know how to PROCESS them. But I did know how to take care of others and clean. So I did that instead.

The things my father did to me as a child aren’t my fault. They were never my fault. His actions were the symptoms of a sick man, who himself did not know how to process.

What his father did to him isn’t his fault either. Those actions were the symptoms of another sick man who didn’t know how to process.

I’m learning how to process and understand. It’s been a tough road, sometimes joyous, sometimes tragic.

But it has been FULFILLING.

There are times it feels like I’m walking through a pitch black forest alone. There are threats all around, waiting to pounce on me the moment I take one step off the path.

But they can’t get me. Not as long as I stay on my path.

There ARE patches of light, however. Beacons in the blackness to guide me. In the form of compassionate friends, sympathetic family, and professionals who can truly understand.

I am learning to use my light.

And for the first time in my life, I’m excited to see where it takes me.

I deserve healing. I deserve to be loved. And I deserve to be happy. I have the right to be okay. And so do you.

Do you have a recovery story? Let us know at the bottom of the page.

Image by Piyapong Saydaung from Pixabay