I Didn’t Know I Had a Problem: My Journey Through Addiction and Recovery

For the longest time, I didn’t think I had a

problem. I convinced myself I was fine because I wasn’t doing the “super hardcore drugs.” I thought I was just having fun, that my lifestyle was normal—or at least manageable. But looking back, I can see now how far gone I was. I was lost in the sauce, so deep in the rabbit hole I wasn’t even in touch with reality.

I carried my pain everywhere I went. Subconsciously, I was numbing that pain, avoiding my problems with booze. Everything in my life revolved around substances: my relationships, my work, my happiness. I lived like this for years, unable to see what I was doing to myself—or maybe I just didn’t want to see it.

The Signs I Missed

At the height of my addiction, everything seemed normal to me, but the signs of a problem were all there.

My friendships were fleeting and chaotic. People would stop being around me without explaining why, or I’d do something to jeopardize the relationship. I was chasing unhealthy connections, desperate to feel wanted or needed, even if those relationships were toxic. I thought it was cool to be the party guy for the longest time. That became my identity. But as the years went on, I started to feel like I was trapped in a role I didn’t want anymore.

My work suffered, too. I bartended at some incredible places and had the skills to build a real career in mixology. But I cared more about drinking than anything else. I’d steal bottles of liquor to drink or sell. I’d make great money, only to wake up the next morning with no idea where it went. I lost jobs because of my drinking, and I’ll carry guilt for my actions in those years for the rest of my life.

Then there was my health. I ignored the damage I was doing to myself for so long. I had quit using powder months earlier during a stint in rehab in Broward County, Florida, but I was still drinking heavily. Even after being warned about the damage I was doing to my liver, I convinced myself it wasn’t that bad. I kept drinking, telling myself I was fine.

Rock Bottom: My Wake-Up Call

When I tried to quit drinking on my own, it was terrifying. I would hallucinate. I saw things that weren’t there, and I felt like I was losing my mind. My body felt like it was shutting down—I had the shakes so bad I couldn’t even put a key in the door. My bowel issues were constant, and I would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, unsure if it was sweat or urine—or both.

The morning before I went to rehab in Savannah, I almost crashed my car because I couldn’t press the accelerator. My body was so weak, so unsteady, that even driving became dangerous. I weighed 250 pounds at the time, and I was carrying around not just physical weight but emotional and mental pain.

My breaking point came when I was hospitalized for liver failure. I couldn’t stand up. I was hooked up to machines, with doctors taking blood samples from both arms at the same time. I remember laying there, alone, surrounded by the consequences of my choices. No one came to visit me. I felt like I deserved to be there, like this was my punishment for the life I had chosen.

That night, something happened that I’ll never forget. God spoke to me and asked, “Do you want to die?” For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to.

The next morning, the doctor came in and asked me the same thing: “Do you want to die? Because if you don’t make a lifestyle change immediately, you will.” That moment stayed with me. But even after leaving the hospital, I kept drinking for a few days. That’s how strong my addiction was.

It wasn’t until I started throwing up blood and seeing blood in my stool that I knew I couldn’t keep living like this. My body was shutting down, and I knew I was a goner if I didn’t stop.

Finding Hope: My Path to Recovery

When I entered rehab in Savannah, I was very sick and weak. Just being able to walk again gave me hope. For the first time, I realized I wanted to live, and that gave me the motivation to fight for my sobriety.

During those six months, I sat in rooms full of men from all walks of life. Some looked like me, some didn’t. But we all had something in common: we had hit rock bottom, and we wanted to climb out. For the first time, I felt like I wasn’t alone.

The Twelve Steps of AA helped me probably more than anything else, but I can’t promote them too much because they’re something you need to research for yourself. What I can say is that the Steps gave me the tools to rebuild my life and find freedom from addiction.

I also started reconnecting with a part of myself I thought was gone: my creativity. While working at Wendy’s for $11 an hour, I used what little money I had to create stickers. The other addicts in rehab loved my art, and for the first time in years, I felt like myself again.

The Struggles and Growth in Sobriety

Sobriety wasn’t easy at first. The hardest habits to break weren’t just drinking—it was the way I lived my life. I had to learn how to take care of myself again. Simple things, like making my bed, eating healthier, and praying every morning, became the foundation for my recovery.

As I worked through my recovery, I also learned the power of forgiveness. I carried so much guilt for the things I had done while drinking. When I began apologizing to people, I was surprised at how many of them forgave me with ease. I realized I was the one holding onto all that guilt, needlessly.

I found joy in the little things: hearing people laugh, eating a warm meal, taking a hot shower. I appreciated every small blessing in ways I never had before.

Today, I weigh around 175 pounds on a good day. I’ve made changes to how I eat and how I take care of my body. I wasn’t allowed to drive in rehab, so getting my car back was a huge moment for me—it felt like I’d regained a part of my freedom. Ironically, I rarely have time to drive it now because I’m working so much. Going from working at Wendy’s to one of the best HVAC companies around has been incredibly motivating.

I also have something I never thought I’d have: a healthy, loving relationship. I’ve been with my amazing girlfriend for almost two years now, and I’m excited for our future together.

Life After Addiction: A New Perspective

Today, I’m two years, two months, and two days sober from alcohol. It’s been two years, seven months, and 17 days since I used powder. I never thought I’d make it this far.

Sobriety has given me a new perspective on life. I no longer feel ashamed when I look in the mirror. I try my best to live a life that honors God and the people around me. I’ve learned to see the beauty in everything—the food, the music, the connections with people.

God took away my lust for alcohol and drugs. I still think about it sometimes, but I don’t act on it.

A Message for You

If you’re reading this and struggling with addiction, know this: you’re not alone. I’ve been where you are. I’ve felt the pain, the isolation, the desperation. My advice? Reach out for help. It’s never too late to turn your life around.

And if you don’t struggle with addiction, please remember: most addicts aren’t bad people. We’re just people in pain, trying to survive. Be compassionate. You never know what someone is going through.

Sobriety is possible. Life gets better. I’m living proof of that.

This story is shared as part of the FaceThyFear mission: to encourage, inspire, and connect people through resilience and transformation.

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