Un-Happy Hour

Here I sit, almost one year from the date that I took my very last drink, preparing to take yet another giant leap of faith by sharing my story with the world, or at least my world. I do so in the hopes that my story will help someone else who is also struggling, whether it’s with alcohol, mental health issues, or some other demon. I don’t pretend to be an expert on the topic, far from it, in fact. But, if there is one thing I have learned to be undeniably true over the past year, it is that there is power in sharing your story. With every conversation or disclosure comes the potential to help someone feel less alone and less afraid. That being said, I have been incredibly selective with who I have chosen to open up to. Until now, I have only chosen to bring a few close friends, trusted advisors, and immediate family members along with me on this journey to sobriety and mental wellness. To those individuals, I am eternally grateful for your love and support. I can honestly say that I would not be here today without each and every one of you.

Recently, I have felt led to share my story and take down some of the protective barriers I have built up around me. I have put a lot of careful thought and intention into the timing of when I would feel ready to pull the curtain back and reveal my true self, warts and all. For me, it was never a matter of “if”, but “when”. With transparency comes vulnerability. With vulnerability comes opinions and possible criticism. However, transparency can also help promote accountability, evoke compassion, and garner understanding and respect. Most importantly, it can lead to change. The bravery displayed all around me on a daily basis by my fellow travelers on this journey has served as an inspiration to me. It is because of them, and because of the many others out there still silently suffering that I choose to cast away any lingering doubts remaining in my mind, and take this leap of faith with optimism and hope.

Most recovering alcoholics talk a lot about how hard it is to say “Hi, my name is _________ and I am an alcoholic ”. These words are often synonymous with broken men and women, gathered in a tight circle in a seedy and poorly lit “room” all commiserating over their shared experiences with failure at the hand of the bottle . For me, although hard to say for the first time, those famous ten words that often start you on the path to take you from who you were to who you want to become, were not the hardest words I have had to clumsily utter from my mouth. The hardest words I have ever had to say, and the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life was to walk through the doors of Walter Reed Military Medical Center on July 17, 2022 and say, “I need help”. My legs have never felt so heavy, my heart has never raced so fast, and my lips have never felt so numb. I felt paralyzed and terrified. But,with my tirelessly fierce supporter and best friend by my side, I managed to do it. From the moment those words left my mouth I felt relief. I knew I was about to change my life forever. I knew that from that point forward, I could let my guard down and remove the mask I had been wearing for so long, because the hardest part was over. The weight I had been carrying suddenly felt a little lighter.

To my Sisters and Brothers in arms fighting their own private and deeply personal battles; those quietly yearning to break free from the chains that are currently binding them. My advice to you is to learn to accept yourself and your experiences for who and what they are. Extend the same grace to yourself as you do for others. This last one is hard, but immensely important. Forgive yourself. Only then can you begin to summon the courage and strength to step outside of your comfort zone, get comfortable being uncomfortable, and take the first steps towards making a positive change for the betterment of your life.