From a young age, I learned that the world had certain expectations. I lived in a world that seemed to celebrate conformity, so I had learned to mold myself into what I thought was acceptable. I always felt like a puzzle piece that never quite fit. I wore a mask, a carefully crafted facade that hid my true self, and over the years, that mask became so comfortable that I forgot what lay beneath it. It was a mask of confidence, laughter, and charm, hiding the insecurities and fears that churned beneath the surface. My childhood was marked by a longing for acceptance. I watched my peers laugh and bond, while I stood on the sidelines, feeling invisible. To fit in, I adopted the interests and opinions of those around me, sacrificing my own identity in the process. I became a chameleon, changing colors to blend in, but deep down I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, drifting through it, never truly connecting with anyone. The mask I wore became heavier with each passing day, and the girl behind it began to fade over time. As I grew older, the pressure to maintain my facade intensified. I entered relationships that were more about validation than love. Each partner brought their own set of expectations, and I, desperate to be accepted, contorted myself to meet them. But instead of love, I found myself in a cycle of emotional and physical abuse, where my own worth was constantly questioned, and my spirit was chipped away piece by piece. The trauma of these relationships left some pretty deep scars. Anxiety became my constant companion, whispering lies that I was unworthy of love. Depression wrapped around me like a heavy blanket, suffocating my dreams and ambitions. I felt trapped in a dark tunnel with no light at the end, and the weight of my pain became unbearable.
In my search for relief, I turned to alcohol and substances. At first, they offered a temporary escape, a way to silence the chaos in my mind. But as the days turned into months, months into years, the addiction tightened its grip, chaining me to a cycle of highs and lows that left me feeling more lost than ever. The mask I wore began to crack, revealing the broken girl beneath, but I was too afraid to confront my true self. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the weight of my choices pressed heavily on my chest. Finally, I came head to head with the consequences of those choices and I had to face them. I was presented with a decision that had been made for me. I was sent to a treatment program in a minimum security prison for 17 weeks. To be honest, I never wanted to go to treatment. I thought there was always another chance, another way out. But the truth is, I had run out of chances. My life had spiraled so out of control, I lost custody of my four children and I was facing serious legal consequences. It was the first step towards taking control of my life again. It was the moment when I finally had to face my problems instead of running away from them. Every step of the way, I knew I was moving forward, towards a better version of myself. In treatment, I learned about addiction, about myself, and about how to cope with life without turning to substances. I finally was able to not only get sober but also given the opportunity to work through my traumas and struggles. I learned to forgive myself, accept myself, to love and value myself for the first time in probably forever. It took me a life crisis to happen in my life for me to realize that I had been running away from myself for far too long. I finally saw a flickering light of hope. I also met people who were going through similar struggles as me. For once, I didn't feel alone in my battle. We supported each other, leaned on each other, and lifted each other up when we felt like giving up. It's true what they say, there is strength in numbers. They didn't judge me or make me feel ashamed of my past mistakes. Instead, they showed me compassion, empathy, and the belief that I could change my life for the better.
One of the most significant lessons I learned in treatment was that my addiction didn't define me. For so long, I had let my addiction consume me, and I didn't know who I was without it. But in treatment, I discovered my passions, my strengths, and my values. I started to see myself as a whole person, not just an addict. My addiction had caused so much pain and damage in my relationships, but in treatment, I learned how to communicate effectively and build trust again. It wasn't easy, but it was worth it. Today, I have a stronger support system than I've ever had. But perhaps the most significant change that happened was the shift in my mindset. Before, I saw going to treatment as a punishment, a consequence for my mistakes. But as I started to heal and grow, I realized that it was a gift. A second chance at life that not everyone gets. I also learned that recovery is not a one-time event; it's a lifelong journey. And that's okay because every day in recovery is better than every...