Rock Bottom; my journey from addiction to recovery

The second most challenging thing one can face is acknowledging the presence of a problem. Yet, the true test lies in taking action to address it. I was fully aware that a problem existed; my drinking had spiralled out of control. However, I remained passive, failing to confront it head-on. Behind my excessive drinking were countless attempts to quit, cleverly hidden secrets from my family, and moments of humour shared with my wife, Felicia.

The crucial question isn't merely when I decided to act, but

why. Why did I choose this path of change, and more importantly, why am I

determined to never revisit that dark road? It's also the story of how fitness

emerged as my saviour, rescuing my life and marriage.

My final night of drinking, back in December 2005, was a Tuesday,

the 20th. I knew it was my farewell to alcohol, though I lacked a concrete plan

for what came next. That evening, I went all in, downing triple tequilas for

hours followed by pints of beer. As I prepared to leave, the bartender, Sam,

insisted I surrender my keys. In that moment, Sam became a hero, potentially

saving lives. Abandoning my car, I accepted a ride from a friend. When I

reached home, I proclaimed, "I'm not going to be drinking ever again."

It was after this moment that clarity washed over me, a few hours later. I

understood I needed to take action and the reasons why I couldn't return to

that path. What I haven't mentioned is that we had a precious 1 1/2-year-old

son at that time, who meant the world to us. This is where my life took a

profound turn.

I can't pinpoint how long I lay unconscious on the kitchen

floor, but I awoke to my wife's haunting gaze. I couldn't fathom the emotions

in her eyes. The

only thought that rushed to my mind was "OH MY GOD!" It wasn't the

reaction I had based on her finding me. You see, I remember giving our son a

bath that night. I don't remember at all putting him to bed. Right then. Right

there. Laying on the kitchen floor my life changed. Felecia's life changed. Our

son's life changed. Forever…

My problem wasn't just alcohol; it was the underlying reasons

for my drinking, the desire to escape, to forget, to cope. I had hit rock

bottom, with no way but up. After a few months of self-imposed sobriety, I

sought help through a program. During this time, I discovered why I turned to

alcohol and that the issues I had been avoiding didn't vanish with sobriety.

Instead, they required attention and tools to address proactively.

Fitness, despite being a personal trainer and co-owning a

fitness studio with my wife, had lost its appeal. Little did I know it was one

of my most powerful tools. Finding a program I loved, one that offered

immediate gratification and provided an escape, was the turning point. It not

only left me feeling rejuvenated but also brimming with creative ideas that

made sense. Moreover, it reconnected me with my wife. We realized that when we

weren't aligned, our fitness, nutrition, and communication suffered. We fell

into a reactive state once more. This cliché rang true: "Fail to plan, and

you plan to fail." We needed tools to thrive, to build, and to sustain our

relationship. For us, fitness became that tool.

That December night was both the best and worst of my life. I

initially planned to fail, to make it my final night of drinking. Little did I

expect to wake up on the kitchen floor, unable to recall putting my son to bed,

with my wife by my side at the start of my sobriety journey. I did it for

myself, but in doing so, I did it for all of us, regardless of the outcome.

Sobriety is hard for so many. It's an addiction not just to the substance, but to

what that substance gives you. Being able to forget, forget your past, your

problems, your trauma. That is a superpower. Unfortunately, that superpower is

artificial. Learning why you are escaping and understanding that your true

superpower is in your recovery. In seeing you for who you are. An incredible,

strong, passionate person. Your past, your trauma, your addiction...is not who you

are.