From Raves to Recovery

March 2024

Recovery Story: Geena

"However, as I somewhat reluctantly embraced the program's structure, a sense of control slowly returned."

 

I won’t mince my words. My story isn't a fairy tale of redemption, but a real-life fable of chasing the party scene, getting entangled with addiction, and eventually clawing my way back for the sake of my son. 

It wasn't a dramatic rock bottom, with no single earth-shattering moment. It was a slow drift, a gradual accumulation of missed work deadlines, strained relationships, and a nagging sense of unease. At 16, what began as weekend clubbing and overseas raves with friends morphed into a regular escape. The initial social thrill wore thin, and weekends started to bleed into weekdays. Using and drinking became a routine, and the vibrant social life I once had, dwindled. 

The consequences started stacking up and as I look back now, this period of active addiction is best described by one of the first words I heard someone utter in my first meeting - unmanageable. 

The final straw came with a simple realisation: I was losing everything. 

Work became a struggle and making rent felt like an exercise in survival. My friends and family, initially tolerant, grew distant. My mental health took a nosedive, and the loneliness that fueled my reliance on substance became a suffocating presence. I was letting everything slip through my fingers. 

The decision to seek help came when I felt the most cornered, and lonely. I’ve come to learn that a primary trait of addiction is isolation, which is exactly what I had done - I had become an island. It was on this island, however, that I decided to completely surrender. Either my body was going to give way or I was going to give up. 

Recovery was a rollercoaster, especially at the beginning. Life doesn’t magically get better overnight - shame, guilt, and the constant fear of relapse were my unwelcome companions. However, as I somewhat reluctantly embraced the program's structure, a sense of control slowly returned. Therapy sessions helped me unpack a whole host of things: Decades worth of emotional baggage, the root causes of my addiction as well as the unhealthy coping mechanisms I had developed. 

One of the biggest challenges is being a single mum. Make no mistake about it, raising my young son while battling my own demons is no easy task. Balancing recovery meetings, therapy sessions, and the constant needs of my son is a daily juggle. There are days, I admit, when all I want to do is crawl back into bed. But seeing my son's innocent face - he is the single most vital motivator to keep going. 

Relationships were another hurdle. Rebuilding trust with my family was a slow, painstaking process. A year of consistent effort finally yielded a tentative olive branch from my mum, which I nurtured with cautious hope. Friendships fared differently. 

Some drifted away, with their lives moving in different directions, but a few true gems have remained a constant source of support for me even till today. 

My recovery programme emphasises the importance of building a strong support network. I’ve found solace in the fellowship – a group of individuals bound by shared struggles and a common goal. These connections, forged in the steel of vulnerability and understanding, have really kept me going. Knowing that someone is just a phone call away, that I am never alone in this fight, is something that I will forever be grateful for. 

All that said, the anchor that keeps me grounded is my son. Every day, the responsibility of raising him is a tangible reminder of the life I am fighting for. I am not fighting for myself, I am really fighting for us. 

Of all that’s happened in my recovery journey, the one event that sticks out is when I hit one year of sobriety. Celebrating a year sober with my family and the people who had supported my journey wasn't a dramatic scene, but a quiet moment of immense significance. Looking around that room, I saw the relief in my family’s eyes, the genuine joy on the faces of the fellowship, and the pride. It was a powerful moment, a validation that all the struggle, pain, hurt and tears, were worth it. 

In that meeting, while I was sharing about my journey over the one year, it hit me. A year of sobriety brought me more than I ever could have imagined. 

Today, I live my life with a renewed purpose - to be of service to other recovering addicts, to give back. I hope that in sharing my story, raw and unfiltered, I will offer hope to those still suffering. 

To anyone that’s struggling: "One day at a time, never look back or think too far ahead.”. These lines may be repeated countless times and seem super cliché, but there’s a reason why they’ve endured. 

They work.