From Hell to Balance: What I’ve Learned About Alcohol

Of all the things I’ve been through in life—and at 53, there are plenty—nothing was harder than my struggle with alcohol. As I sit here writing, I still can’t find words that do the pain justice.

Hell. Despair. Misery. Imprisoned.
That’s about as close as I can get to describing what it felt like in the middle of it.

When I was dying for a way out, I consumed everything I could: quit-lit books, audiobooks, podcasts, YouTube videos. If someone had an idea or a story about breaking free, I wanted to hear it. Through all of that, I became well-informed about alcohol and addiction—but more importantly, I started piecing together my own path.

It’s been almost two years since I first stopped drinking cold turkey after a tough medical diagnosis (not alcohol-related). When my health stabilized, I started drinking again—but with one major difference: I don’t drink to get drunk anymore. In nearly two years, I’ve maybe hit a “buzz” three or 4 times.

That is the complete opposite of how I used to live. Back then, my only goal every single day was to drink until I felt it. Hide it. Keep my life looking “together.” Protect the secret at all costs, which I did well as no one in my life suspected a thing.

Now, it’s different. I’ll have one drink, maybe two, but the second I start to feel the alcohol kick in—it’s a full stop. I don’t force it. I don’t debate with myself. I just stop. It’s subconscious actually. And I honestly don’t care. I lose interest. It’s like something in me got rewired, because this was never possible before.

What hasn’t changed is the cultural pull of alcohol. It’s everywhere. Movies, commercials, social media, friends, family—it’s the backdrop of almost every event. Birthdays, weddings, funerals, sunny days, rainy days—you name it, our culture has turned it into a reason to drink. That programming is the last thing I’m still working to shake.

Here’s where I am today: I’m happy with my drinking. I can enjoy it, I can relax, and for nearly two years, there’s been no sign of sliding backwards. That doesn’t mean I let my guard down—it means I live with the daily reminder of how far I’ve come and how much I refuse to go back.

I am grateful to be here on the other side of hell, alive to tell you, the world, that yes, you can get past this as well.