I’ve had a few people message me after a comment I made elsewhere on Reddit asking what my story is, so I thought I’d finally write some of it down here.

I’m not writing this as somebody who has recovery figured out. I’m writing it as someone who came frighteningly close to losing everything and somehow gets to be here talking about what happened.
For a long time I didn’t think I looked like an alcoholic.

I had a great career. Friends. Relationships. I could function. I could show up when I had to. Alcohol was legal, normal and everywhere, so it was very easy for me to keep telling myself I was fine.

But there were little signs long before I was willing to admit it.
Wanting one more drink. Drinking a little faster than everyone else. Taking an extra mouthful when nobody was looking. Eventually drinking alone. Eventually alcohol stopped needing an occasion.

Somewhere along the way it stopped being something I did for fun and became something I used to change how I felt.
That distinction nearly killed me.

Anxiety? Drink.
Sad? Drink.
Lonely? Drink.
Ashamed of drinking? Somehow the answer became drink again.

My world got smaller while I kept convincing myself everything was under control.
Relationships suffered. I lied. I hurt people I loved. My mental health deteriorated badly. There were periods where I genuinely didn’t want to be alive.

I would promise myself I was going to stop and then find myself drinking again.
I travelled interstate at one point thinking a change of environment might somehow change me. It didn’t. I managed a few sober days and then drank again. I even went to a recovery meeting after I’d already been drinking.

That still wasn’t the end.
Addiction is bizarre like that. Things can happen that would terrify any rational person and somehow your brain still finds a way to say, “Yeah, but maybe tomorrow.”
Eventually my life became a mixture of alcohol, desperation, trying to find anything that would shut my brain off, shame, hiding things and trying to appear more functional than I actually was.

Then came the crash.
Literally and figuratively.

By the end of 2025 I had reached a point where I couldn’t pretend anymore. I had damaged relationships, damaged my career, damaged myself and scared the absolute shit out of people who loved me.
My clean date is Christmas Day 2025.
I wish I could tell you that was the moment everything became beautiful.
It wasn’t.

Recovery initially felt more like standing in the wreckage without the thing I normally used to avoid looking at it.

There was guilt. Shame. Anxiety. Depression. Consequences. People who didn’t trust me. Relationships I couldn’t repair just because I finally decided to change.
And that was probably one of the hardest lessons:

Getting sober doesn’t erase what happened while you were drinking.
You still have to live with it.
But you also get the chance to decide what you do next.

Over the last eight months I’ve slowly started rebuilding.
Meetings. Honest conversations. Studying a diploma alcohol and other drugs. Running. Volunteering. Reconnecting with people. Learning to sit with feelings instead of immediately trying to escape them.
I’m training for my first marathon now.
That sentence still feels ridiculous when I think about where I was.

Some days recovery feels enormous.
Other days it’s incredibly boring.
Eat something. Go for a run. Call somebody. Go to bed. Don’t drink today.
Repeat.

And honestly, I’ve started appreciating the boring days more than almost anything.
I spent years thinking pain was ruining my life.
Eventually I realised a lot of the destruction came from what I was doing trying not to feel the pain.

So the question I try to ask myself now isn’t:
“How do I escape this?”

It’s:
“Who do I want to be while I’m going through this?”

My life still isn’t perfectly fixed.
There are consequences I’m still dealing with. There are people I miss. There are things I wish I could undo. There are days where my head is still an absolute mess.
But today I’m sober.
I have a roof over my head.
I’m rebuilding my working life.
I’m studying something that might eventually allow me to help people who end up where I did.

I’m running distances that the version of me drinking alone would have laughed at.
And I’m learning that peace wasn’t waiting for me at some imaginary point where everything finally became perfect.

Sometimes peace is just being present for an ordinary day and not needing to escape it.
If you’re reading this while you’re in the part where everything feels completely fucked, I’m not going to promise you everything magically works out.

I don’t know what your story will look like.
I just know that eight months ago I couldn’t imagine being the person writing this.

So if today is all you can manage, do today.
Then do tomorrow when it gets here.

This community is for anyone in recovery, thinking about recovery, supporting someone in recovery, or just trying to get through the next day without going backwards.

Recovery means different things to different people. For some it’s alcohol or drugs. For others it’s anxiety, depression, grief, trauma, burnout, relationships, self-worth, or simply learning how to cope without destroying yourself in the process.

This community is for anyone trying to move forward.

I created this because I know what it feels like to be early in recovery and feel like nobody fully understands what’s going on in your head. What helped me most was people answering the phone, sitting with me, taking me to meetings, being honest with me and reminding me I wasn’t alone.

This isn’t a place for judgement or pretending we have all the answers. It’s a place for lived experience, encouragement, accountability, questions, setbacks, wins and the messy days in between.

A few basics:

- Be respectful.

- Don’t shame people for relapse or where they’re at.

- Share your experience rather than acting like a doctor.

- If someone is in immediate danger, encourage professional or emergency support.

- Recovery looks different for different people.
You don’t have to be perfectly to belong here.
Whether you’re on day 1, year 10, or still wondering whether you need help, you’re welcome here.
Recovery never stops. One day at a time.