I Lost Myself Trying to Hold It All Together

There was a time when I didn’t even recognize the person looking back at me. I wasn’t really living — just going through the motions, stuck in a fog of pain and using alcohol to block out memories I didn’t want to face.

Grief has a way of breaking you in ways you don’t expect. When I lost my mom, I didn’t just lose her — I lost the one person who made me feel safe. She always saw me. Without her, I felt invisible. I told myself to stay strong and hold it together, but what I really needed was space to fall apart.

So I pushed through. Worked more. Smiled harder. And kept pouring another drink when no one was around. What started as just weekends turned into a daily habit. I kept saying I was fine — but I was slowly falling apart. Behind closed doors, I was overwhelmed with guilt, sadness, and regret. I hated how distant I had become from my kids — two adults and one still at home. They saw more than I realized. I had lost my balance. I had lost me.

This blog isn’t just about addiction or grief. It’s about slowly finding your way back to yourself when life has knocked you completely off course.

The Quiet Wake-Up Call

There was no big dramatic moment where everything suddenly changed. It was a series of quiet, uncomfortable truths stacking up over time. One day, I looked around and thought, This can’t be it. This can’t be the life I’m settling for. I didn’t want to keep pretending. I didn’t want to feel numb anymore. I didn’t want to keep missing out on being present — for my kids, and for myself.

That realization didn’t fix everything. But it was the beginning. The start of choosing something different. Of deciding to stop running from my pain and start facing it — little by little.

The History

I Don’t Always Talk About 

My battle with alcohol didn’t just start after my mom passed — it had been part of my life long before that. As a young, single mom, I carried a lot of pain, pressure, and responsibilities. I turned to alcohol early on to cope, and for a while, I also got caught up in opioids. That chapter of my life was messy and painful, and it took everything in me to pull myself out of it.

By the time I hit my late 20s, something shifted. I knew I wanted better — not just for me, but for my kids. I went back to school and earned my high school diploma while pregnant with my third child. That moment meant everything. It was proof that I was still capable of rising, even after falling so far. After giving birth, I kept going and earned a certificate in administration. Life was finally starting to feel like it had purpose again. I wasn’t fully sober — I’d still drink occasionally — but for five years, I kept it under control.

Still, even with all the progress I had made, the pain I hadn’t dealt with was quietly building up. Old wounds. Unspoken traumas. And when life came crashing down again — through heartbreak, betrayal, and stress — I found myself slipping back into the patterns I thought I had left behind. That relapse hit harder than I expected, and it pulled me into a place I swore I’d never go back to.

Seeking Help: Turning Inward

I realized I couldn’t keep going down this road. I wasn’t just hurting myself — I was affecting the people I love the most.

I didn’t turn to AA or a rehab program. Somehow, I found the strength within. I started meditating every day and journaling my thoughts and emotions. Those quiet moments became my way of facing the truth I had avoided for so long.

The real battle wasn’t just with alcohol — it was with the pain I had buried deep inside. What helped me most was learning how to sit with those feelings, even when it was uncomfortable. That’s when true healing began.  

Challenges of Recovery:

Building New Habits

The early days of recovery were no joke. I had restless nights, racing thoughts, and moments where I felt completely out of control. For years, I never made it past 30 days without relapsing — so hitting that three-month mark became my first real goal.

To stay grounded, I made daily meditation and journaling part of my routine. It wasn’t just about quitting alcohol — it was about facing the fears and pain I had buried. Little by little, I started seeing changes, and those small wins kept me going.

Life After Addiction:

Reclaiming Myself

Getting sober gave me a second chance at life — not just to exist, but to live. I leaned into learning and healing, watching speakers like Joe Dispenza and Abraham Hicks, and reading books that helped shift my mindset. The more I focused on growth, the more I felt connected to something bigger than my past.

Recovery isn’t a straight line — but it’s progress. I’m still learning, still healing, and still moving forward. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like myself again.     

Closing Thoughts: Two Years Sober and Still Growing

I’ve now been sober for two years. When I started this journey, I was just three months in and built this website to keep my mind busy and focused on something positive. I never imagined how much I’d grow just by choosing to keep going — one day at a time.

If you’re in a tough place right now, I see you. Healing doesn’t happen all at once — it happens in the quiet moments when you decide not to give up. You don’t need to have it all figured out. Just take the next right step.

This blog is just a piece of my story. I’m currently working on a book that dives deeper — a healing journal with real-life scenarios, tools, and pages to reflect and grow. If that sounds like something you’d need, stay tuned.

If this story speaks to you, feel free to share it. Drop a comment or reach-out if your story matters too.