Day 53 - The Battle Within
Blog Post #3: Resilience in the Face of Resistance
This week has been busy, to say the least — and honestly, I’m grateful for it.
I had the opportunity to attend the Keizer, Oregon Chamber of Commerce Greeters Breakfast, as well as a few other networking groups around town. Getting the name of ST Consulting out into the community is an exciting step forward, and I’ve already been able to pitch our services to business owners I’ve never met. That alone feels like a win.
So far, I haven’t been faced with the temptation of alcohol at any of these events — but I know that day will come. When it does, I’ll be ready. As long as I keep focusing my energy in the right places, I can stay grounded.
But not every moment this week was smooth sailing.
Last Sunday, I nearly had a breakdown. The weight of depression crept in like a storm, and by midday, it was almost too much for my heart and soul to bear. I was in a deep funk I couldn’t shake. As an alcoholic/addict, I know just how quickly our minds and bodies can turn against us. All day long, my thoughts whispered and then screamed:
You’re not good enough.
You’ll never succeed.
This will never work out in Oregon.
You’re a failure — no one wants to do business with you.
The lies were loud, relentless, and convincing. I cried. I begged God to carry me. I pleaded with myself just to hang on. My addiction offered me its usual escape: Just one drink. A little Kratom. Just this once.
But I know better now. Every time I thought about getting in my car and heading to the store, I forced myself to play the tape all the way through.
I pictured myself buying my usual mix — 12 Monaco’s and a couple Kratom shots. I imagined sitting in my apartment, chugging it all down. And yes, I could almost feel the temporary relief — that short-lived numbness. But then came the second part of the tape: guilt, shame, anxiety, depression, and cravings that spiral like a cyclone, ready to destroy everything I’ve worked for — and anyone who got in the way.
That vision was enough to keep me sober. I made it to a recovery meeting, and I made it through the day.
This week, I’m still sober. That’s a miracle. And I thank God for that — and for the loving people around me, especially my fiancée, who continues to be one of my greatest supporters.
What I’ve learned is this: using only offers a temporary escape from discomfort. But the cost is far too high — it always leaves me worse off, emotionally and mentally. I’ve come to realize that my greatest battle is with my own thinking, and understanding that has helped me keep fighting — and winning — one day at a time.
When I first got sober, I believed alcohol and drugs were my only problem. I was wrong. Sobriety is just the beginning. The real work began when I had to confront the pain, trauma, and mental health challenges I had buried for over 30 years. Taking away the substances exposed a broken emotional landscape — one that couldn’t be ignored any longer.
For years, I couldn’t understand why other people in recovery seemed to be glowing with joy while I still felt like I was barely holding it together. The truth? I hadn’t addressed my mental health.
Three years ago, I made the decision to change that. I sought out doctors, tried different medications, committed to counseling, and opened up in meetings. I’ve done the hard work — and I’m still doing it. Prioritizing my mental health has been a game changer, and now I’m starting to understand what those other sober alcoholics meant when they said: “Life has never been better.”
I still have a long way to go, and I know it won’t always be easy. But I also know, deep down, that it will absolutely be worth it.
