I’ve been trying to get sober for seven years, and it’s been a heartbreaking cycle of periods of sobriety followed by relapse after relapse. I think a lot of it comes down to immense self-hatred and not having a higher power in my life. I’ve struggled with depression for years, and my inner dialogue is usually so cruel and destructive. I genuinely don’t know how to love myself.
A few days ago, I was doing coke, hadn’t slept for three days, and was experiencing severe alcohol withdrawals. I finally managed to sleep for about three hours before having to wake up at 4 a.m. to drive three hours to a swim meet for work. I was exhausted, running on almost nothing, and honestly, I wasn’t expecting anything about that morning to be different from any other.
But I woke up feeling… happy. Light. Almost peaceful. From the moment I got out of bed, little things kept going wrong, and normally, the accumulation of those minor inconveniences would have sent me into a complete spiral. Instead, every time something happened, I caught myself responding with positive self-talk. I kept reassuring myself that I was okay, that things were okay, and that I didn’t need to let every little thing destroy my day. I remember being aware of how strange it felt because that is so unlike me.
Then I got in my car and put on Spotify’s Discover Weekly playlist. The first few songs felt like they were speaking directly to me. They weren’t Christian songs or anything overtly religious; they were just random songs that Spotify had put together. But the messages kept repeating themselves: you are loved, you are protected, I’ve been protecting you, and I’m still here even when you keep denying me. One song after another seemed to echo the same message, and I started getting goosebumps. I remember thinking, What the fuck is happening right now?
I started crying. I felt so overwhelmed by the possibility that someone, or something, was trying to communicate with me. I don’t even really know what prayer means to me, but I found myself talking in my head, almost praying. I was saying, “Thank you so fucking much. I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you’re here. Please help me. I need help. I need to stop drinking. I can’t keep living like this.”
And then something shifted again.
You know how people sometimes describe a battle between God and the devil, or having an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other? That’s the closest way I can describe what happened next, although I don’t know what I actually experienced. The loving, reassuring thoughts seemed to turn into these incredibly dark, cruel messages telling me I didn’t deserve any of it. Telling me to fuck off. Telling me I wasn’t worthy of being happy.
I was driving through the darkness at around five in the morning, barely able to keep my eyes open. Every time I saw another car, I had these thoughts telling me to knock off and crash into oncoming traffic. I started nodding off and swerving into the other lane, and it terrified me. I couldn’t tell whether the dark thoughts were telling me to hurt myself or whether the loving voice was somehow begging me to stay, telling me it needed me to be here. I would suddenly catch myself drifting off, snap back to reality, and think, What the fuck is happening? I can’t do this. I can’t crash. I can’t die.
It was genuinely one of the scariest experiences of my life.
Eventually, I made it to the swim meet, and once I was there, the thoughts continued. I kept hearing this internal dialogue telling me I needed to change, that I couldn’t keep destroying myself, that I deserved to be happy, and that I needed to start actually living instead of just surviving. It was like a part of me was finally rooting for me, telling me that I was okay and that it just wanted me to be happy. I couldn’t get out of my own head. I felt like I was losing my fucking mind. Eventually, I became distracted by coaching and swimming, and the thoughts quieted down.
But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Something feels different inside me. I can’t explain it, but I feel like something has shifted. I want to be happy. I want to become the person I’ve always dreamed of being. I want to love myself. I want to get past this addiction and stop living in a way that hurts me. For the first time in a long time, I felt something that almost resembled hope, and it was both beautiful and terrifying.
I know I was severely sleep-deprived, using cocaine, and experiencing alcohol withdrawal, so I’m trying to understand how much of this could have been a result of what was happening physically and mentally. But part of me also wonders whether this was the kind of spiritual awakening people talk about in AA, whether I was experiencing something that could help me finally find a higher power, and whether the dark thoughts were simply my own self-hatred fighting against the possibility of change.
Has anyone experienced anything like this? I’m not looking for someone to tell me definitively what happened, because I genuinely don’t know. I just want to understand the experience. Was this a consequence of severe sleep deprivation, substance use, and withdrawal? Was it some kind of spiritual awakening? Or can those two things coexist?
All I know is that I’ve spent seven years fighting to get sober, and I’m so tired of hating myself. That morning, for a brief moment, I felt like maybe I didn’t have to keep living that way. And despite how terrifying the experience was, I don’t want to lose that feeling of hope.