One Year

I hope this reaches someone who needs it

A lot can change in a year.

One year ago today, I took my last drink and my last drugs. One year ago today, I came to in a jail cell. As the tired joke goes, I have an allergy: I break out in cuffs.

A year ago, I had a good job and a future that seemed straightforward, until suddenly I had neither. In one year, I lost a lot. And yet, somehow, I am in a much better place today than I was then.

A year ago, I was having suicidal thoughts every day. I did not want to die so much as I wanted an end to the life I was living. I was exhausted. I hated who I had become.

I am an addict. For as long as I can remember, I have carried a void inside of myself, a hollow, aching feeling that I tried desperately to fill. And if I am not careful, I will do anything to fill that void, to quiet the self-hatred that comes with it, to feel better for even a moment. I have crossed bridges I never thought I would cross. I have done things I am ashamed of. I have hurt people. I have become someone I never imagined I could be.

I did not ask to be an addict. No one chooses to be. I was suffering long before I ever turned to substances, and addiction took pieces of me that I did not know I could lose. Addiction is a disease. It can destroy someone physically, mentally, and spiritually. It can erode your principles, your relationships, your sense of self.

But I also believe something equally important: suffering does not erase responsibility. Hurt people hurt people, but pain does not excuse our actions. Before you leave a comment congratulating me on one year, something I genuinely appreciate, understand that this is not really the point of this piece.

One year ago, I hated myself. I was cursing myself under my breath through almost everything I did. I woke up every day wishing it would all end, ashamed of what I had become. Today, I do not feel that way.

I have lost a job, too much money, relationships, and the version of my future I thought I was heading toward. I am still struggling financially, and I still have to sort through the consequences of my past and figure out what comes next.

And yet, this has been the best year of my life that I can remember.

This is not a trauma dump. I have written those before, and they were important for me, they were part of my own healing. This is not me turning my pain into content because personal essays perform well on this platform. And it is not me looking for praise.

My life is better today than it has been in a long time, even with the consequences I am still facing, many of which were consequences of my own actions.

I am not a hero. I am not a guru. I am not a saint. I hope I do not come across as preachy. I am simply someone who has seen growth in himself that he once thought was impossible.

Maybe someone reading this is struggling with addiction and needs to know change is possible. Maybe someone is not struggling with addiction at all, but is trying to become a better version of themselves. I am not an expert. This is just my experience: the things that helped me, the lessons I learned, and the steps I am still taking. I hope they help you too:

Recognition

I used to hate Alcoholics Anonymous. Now I am a member, working the steps. The first step of Alcoholics Anonymous is perhaps the most important: admitting that you are powerless over alcohol. Stepping away from addiction, this applies to almost anything in life. If you want to change something, whether it is something small or something enormous, the first thing you have to do is recognize that something needs to change.

That sounds obvious. It is also incredibly difficult. It took me years to recognize I was an addict. I had been exhibiting addictive behaviors for over a decade, and yet I did not truly admit it to myself until last year.

Part of the reason is that there is rarely just one problem. I struggle with anxiety and depression. Everyone to some extent does, but I am diagnosed, medicated, and they have affected my life. For a long time, it was easier for me to point to those things as the source of my problems and use them to justify my addictive behaviors. After all, what feels like a better solution to anxiety or deep sadness than getting fucked up? For an addict, plenty of things are better solutions. But for a long time, it did not feel that way.

Before we can change, we have to be honest with ourselves. We have to look at our lives and ask what actually needs to change. Honesty may not be enough, but it is the bare minimum.

Forgiveness

This one might sound strange, especially if what you are trying to change seems smaller than addiction. But it still matters.

If you are trying to change something, chances are you have failed before. Maybe you have tried and fallen back into old patterns. Maybe you have spent years avoiding the problem entirely. Whatever the case, you have to forgive yourself.

Changing is hard. And if the thing you are trying to change is something bigger, something that has hurt yourself or others, it can be even harder.

I still struggle to accept some of the things I have done. I am fortunate that the harm I caused was not as severe as it could have been, and that I have the opportunity to work toward making amends and forgiving myself.

Forgiveness is not always a single moment where you suddenly let go. Sometimes it is a process.

None of us are perfect. We all make mistakes. Some mistakes are bigger than others. Sometimes we make choices we know are wrong. I certainly did, repeatedly, to the point where they stopped being isolated mistakes and became patterns.

But I have to forgive myself. Because if I do not, I cannot move forward. That does not mean I excuse what I did. Forgiveness is not absolution. It is accepting that I am a person who did harmful things, and that I can still choose to become someone different.

Take Steps

We can recognize we have a problem. We can forgive ourselves. And then we can keep doing the exact same things we were doing before. That changes nothing. After recognition and forgiveness comes action. Without action, our intentions, our hopes, and our desire to change are just wishes.

For me, changing meant stopping what I was doing. It meant no longer drinking and using drugs. It meant entering a program and getting help. It meant giving Alcoholics Anonymous another chance and actually listening to the suggestions. It meant getting honest, especially with myself. It meant taking accountability. It meant recognizing that it was not only the substances that needed to change, but the behaviors and patterns underneath them.

Aside from sobriety, I have not done any of that perfectly.

I have gotten better, but I still make mistakes. I still fall into old ways of thinking and acting. So will you.

You will fall back into old patterns. That does not mean you give up. It means you recognize how difficult change is, learn from it, and keep taking the next step.

I cannot tell you exactly what those steps will be. Everyone’s will look different.

But I can tell you this: nothing changes unless you change something.

Don’t Do It Alone

No matter what you are trying to change, you cannot do it entirely alone. That does not necessarily mean you need to announce your struggles to everyone in your life or ask every person you know for help. But we are social creatures. We need connection. We need other people. Let the people who love you in. Even if you are not asking them to fix anything, let them support you. And do the same for them.

I would also encourage you to ask for help. I have not stayed sober for a year by myself. Not even close.

I have had a lot of help. Some people knew they were helping me stay sober. Others probably did not realize the impact they were having. I received support, kindness, and patience from people who helped me get through some very difficult moments.

Asking for help is hard. Being honest about what you need help with is hard. But the more uncomfortable you feel about admitting you need help, the more likely it is that you need to do it.

Trusting people can be difficult, especially if you have spent years relying only on yourself. But letting people help you can also help you rebuild trust in yourself.

Love Yourself

Kumbaya bullshit. At least, that is what I used to think.

Loving yourself can be incredibly difficult, even if you do not struggle with self-hatred or carry shame from things you have done.

It is so easy to prioritize the people we love. It is easy to prioritize work, responsibilities, and everything we feel we should be doing. It is much harder to prioritize ourselves.

But throughout the process of changing, you have to recognize how hard change is. You have to acknowledge the work you are doing. You have to understand that you are trying.

You have to take care of yourself beyond just surviving day to day.

What makes one person feel loved will not be the same for someone else. Find what genuinely makes you feel better, in a healthy way, and practice doing those things for yourself.

You deserve the same compassion you would give to someone else who was struggling.

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The process of change is simple, but actually changing is anything but. It is hard, no matter what you are trying to change. We are stubborn creatures. We hold onto what is familiar, even when what is familiar is hurting us. We convince ourselves that tomorrow will be different while continuing to repeat yesterday.

But change is possible. I hope this piece has resonated with you, whoever you are and whatever it is you are trying to overcome. I hope something here was useful, even if it was just a reminder that you are not alone in struggling to become a better version of yourself.

As for me, I am proud of myself for being sober for one year. That matters to me. It is something I once thought might be impossible. But I still have a long way to go.

And that is okay. The goal is not perfection. It never can be, and never should be. The goal is progress.