Personal Story of Recovery: Megan Cornish

I’m Megan Cornish, a licensed clinical social worker who helps people with their mental health every day. 

Fifteen years ago, fresh out of college, I was working a job that involved assessing patients for depression and anxiety. I would walk into a room, make some small talk, and then screen for mental health concerns.

Do you have little interest or pleasure in doing things?
Are you sleeping too much or too little?
What about feeling down, depressed, or hopeless? 

These were the questions I asked every day, multiple times a day. I knew what the answers meant. I could recognize depression and anxiety in others from a mile away. But somehow, I didn’t see the same symptoms in myself. 

Today, I’m in a much better place—not perfect, but stronger. My experiences have taught me that recovery is an ongoing process and that we’re all more than one story.

Recognizing the Signs

Back then, I was 21 years old and just starting out as a social worker. I had just finished my bachelor’s degree and was eager to prove myself.

I didn’t notice it at first, but slowly, a sense of unease started to creep into everything I did. I chalked it up to stress- totally normal for new graduates, right?

After a while, though, I woke up every morning with this heavy feeling in my chest, like a literal weight was sitting on me. Driving to work, I’d focus on my breathing, checking constantly to see if that black hole of pressure below my sternum had gone away. It never did.

Sometimes at work, I would step into my office, shut the door, and slide to the floor. I would press my hands tightly against my chest to steady my breathing, just enough to make it through the next few hours. I burned through all of my sick days and then borrowed against days I didn’t have because getting out of bed felt impossible—until it wasn’t an option. When the only alternative was losing my job, I dragged myself to work, even though it felt like I was barely holding myself together.

I stopped crying, listening to music, or really doing anything that made me feel any emotions. I couldn’t afford to go there because I knew that life doesn’t pause for a breakdown; it just keeps going, and I was barely keeping up. But I did start sleeping more and more, taking long naps after work and counting down the hours until bedtime. I pulled away from my friends and barely noticed how much of myself I was losing. But even then, I didn’t think I had a problem. I thought I just needed to manage it better.

The Breaking Point

Everything changed at a Christmas party at work. I was sitting by a window, watching cars drive by, and I had a thought:

I wish one of those cars would come through this wall and put me out of my misery. 

There was a lot of noise in my head those days, but somehow, that thought clanged through it all like a bell and stopped me in my tracks. It was the same kind of thought I’d described to clients countless times as a sign of depression.

I remembered something I told my patients regularly:

“Your brain’s number one job is to keep you alive. If it stops trying to do that, you can be sure that something needs to be fixed.”

I didn’t want to die—I just wanted a break from the constant struggle. I was exhausted. Anxiety is exhausting.

With the alarm bells finally ringing in my head, I left the party, sat in my car, and called my partner. We’d only been dating for six months, but I told him I thought I was depressed and I really needed help. He told me to stay where I was and came to get me. He and my best friend helped me pack a bag and brought me to my parents’ house. My mom, who I always count on, found a doctor who could see me the next day. She drove me there herself. 

That first call for help wasn’t easy, but it saved me.

The Work of Recovery

That first doctor I saw was a family practice doctor, not a psychiatrist. But he was able to put me on a low dose of medication, and, for a little while, just the hope that something might change was enough to make me feel lighter. But the medication itself didn’t help much, and it came with a side effect—a racing heartbeat—that only made things worse. He had also prescribed benzodiazepines to help in the short term, but I didn’t feel comfortable taking them. I knew the risks. He told me I should see a psychiatrist as soon as possible, but the waitlist was six months long.

Six months felt unbearable, but what choice did I have? When I eventually saw a psychiatrist, they adjusted my medication and recommended therapy. But my HMO had rules. Before I could do individual therapy, I had to go through group therapy first, which came with another long waitlist. I couldn’t take waiting anymore. So, I found an out-of-network psychiatrist and a private practice therapist and paid out of pocket. It wasn’t cheap, and it stretched my budget thin, but it was the only way I could keep moving forward.

It took five years of small, slow steps to get to a fully stable place. I tried four or five different medications before we found the right combination. Therapy helped me make sense of everything and kept me grounded. Medications didn’t solve everything, but they lifted enough of the weight for me to actually engage in therapy and do the work I needed to do.

The hardest part wasn’t the appointments or the waitlists or the side effects. It was realizing that the person I thought I was—the carefree, happy-go-lucky version of me I’d always identified with—was gone, and I needed time to grieve her. Recovery wasn’t about going back to who I used to be. It was about figuring out who I could be now. And while it’s not the story I would’ve chosen for myself, I’ve learned to be okay with it. In some ways, I think I’ve even grown to like this version of me more.

Progressing Up

Therapy taught me how to understand my story and accept myself. Medication helped stabilize me, but it wasn’t a magic fix. My parents gave me a safe place to land, and my partner showed me that I wasn’t alone in this. Every setback taught me something new about myself and what I needed to heal.

There were days when progress felt slow, but looking back, I can see how far I’ve come. Recovery isn’t about perfection; it’s about persistence. Each small step added up to a path forward.

Today, I’m not just a social worker. I’m a partner, a friend, and someone who lives with mental health challenges. Those challenges don’t define me, but they’ve shaped me in ways I’m proud of. I’ve learned that joy and pain can exist together, and that’s okay.

If you’re reading this and struggling, I hope my story helps you see that it’s okay to ask for help. Your mental health matters just as much as your physical health. Asking for help isn’t a weakness; it’s an act of bravery. Recovery is possible, and you don’t have to do it alone.

Beyond the 12 Steps: Alternative Paths to Recovery for Young Adults: Megan Cornish

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in these contributions are those of the individual authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of Recovery.com.

In 1935, Bill Wilson and Bob Smith were both fighting to keep their alcoholism in check while juggling demanding jobs. When they met and began to talk about their battles, they recognized a truth that would become the foundation of the recovery community in the United States: staying sober is a whole lot easier when you’re not doing it alone. By 1950, Alcoholics Anonymous (the group Bill and Bob started, also known as AA) had already helped more than 100,000 people find their way to recovery.

AA struck a chord in early 20th-century America. Its manual, called “The Big Book” by members, laid out 12 steps to guide people through recovery. The approach fit right in with the era’s thinking around addiction, spirituality, and self-care.

AA was built on a framework that included:

  • A primarily spiritual worldview
  • A focus on alcohol as the substance of choice
  • The belief that the ability to get and stay sober could only be found through a higher power
  • Strategies that were tested out and established by predominantly (white) men
  • An abstinence-only approach, with absolutely no substance use allowed

There’s a reason AA’s so popular. Research shows that, for many people, it works. In fact, AA’s 12 step program was found to be 60% more effective than other interventions for helping people get into recovery from alcoholism.

90 years have passed since Bill and Bob founded AA, and while it’s still easier to stay sober with help, a lot has changed. The old model tends to resonate with the older generations, who identify with the framework that AA was built on. But there are a lot of people—especially young people—looking for recovery resources who might not connect with AA’s traditional (and, at times, inflexible) views on recovery. And though it’s hard to find a non-12-step based recovery program, they do exist—it’s just a matter of figuring out where to look for what will work for you.

Recovery Support, But for Young Adults

YPR- Young People in Recovery

If you walk into a typical 12 step meeting, you’ll probably find people of all ages, but you might also notice that the average veers towards the older generation. Possibly that’s because it takes time to realize you need support to stay sober, and the young people who make their way to 12 step meetings are ahead of their peers. No matter what the reason, there can be a certain energy in AA meetings: stories full of hard-earned wisdom, decades-long battles, and the kind of insight that only time can give.

This wisdom is something young people in recovery need—but sometimes, they need support from people their own age, too. 

Young People in Recovery (YPR) is a non-profit that’s trying to offer exactly that. YPR gets that young adults (under the age of 30) in recovery are facing unique pressures: navigating college life, launching careers, building relationships—all while managing sobriety in a world where social media, parties, and stress are ever-present. 

YPR offers local chapters, life-skills workshops, advocacy projects, and social events, and welcomes all recovery pathways, including people in 12-step programs. They try to create a space where young people can connect with people their age who understand the here-and-now challenges they’re struggling with.

Recovery Support, But Not for Alcohol

SMART Recovery

Not everyone battling addiction is fighting alcohol. Maybe it’s opioids, stimulants, or even behaviors like gambling or overeating. And while many people struggling with other addictions find AA to be helpful, others don’t—and that’s okay.

SMART Recovery stands for Self-Management and Recovery Training, and it focuses on giving struggling people practical tools and strategies to overcome addiction. SMART emphasizes personal responsibility and secular principles, and it draws on ideas from cognitive-behavioral therapy and motivational interviewing to address any type of addiction.

Instead of 12-Steps, SMART Recovery uses a 4-Point Program:

  1. Building and Maintaining Motivation: Helping you identify and keep sight of your personal reasons for change.
  2. Coping with Urges: Teaching strategies to manage cravings and avoid relapse.
  3. Managing Thoughts, Feelings, and Behaviors: Using cognitive techniques to tackle unhelpful thinking patterns.
  4. Living a Balanced Life: Encouraging you to set goals and create a fulfilling, healthy lifestyle.

Now, while SMART Recovery is gaining popularity and has helped many people, it’s worth noting that there’s not as much research on its effectiveness compared to programs like AA. Early studies are promising, but more comprehensive research is needed to fully understand how well it works across different populations.

But if you’re looking for a recovery program that isn’t specific to alcohol, SMART Recovery might be worth checking out.

Recovery Support, But Not Religious

In 1935, faith and religion played a huge role in the day-to-day lives of most people. It’s estimated that as many as two out of every three people identified as religious by the 1950s. Today, that number is much lower—less than half—with one in three people identifying as “spiritual, but not religious.”

The move towards non-religious-affiliations is most noticeable with younger generations. According to research conducted by the Pew Research Center, only around four in ten millennials reported religion as being “very important” to them, compared to just 60% of Baby Boomers. Many young adults describe themselves as “spiritual but not religious,” or they don’t identify with any spirituality at all.

Alcoholics Anonymous, which is religious by nature, won’t work for someone who doesn’t believe in a “higher power.” And although AA has widened its definition of a “higher power” to include anything that gives you strength—even if it’s not a traditional deity—that concept still doesn’t resonate with everyone.

If you’re among those who feel like you might need recovery support without the religious or spiritual framework, there are a few options for you.

Secular Organizations for Sobriety (SOS)

The Secular Organizations for Sobriety (SOS), also known as “Save Our Selves”, promotes a non-religious path to sobriety. It was founded in 1985 by James Christopher, who felt that the spiritual focus of traditional programs like AA didn’t fit with his beliefs.

Here’s what’s different about SOS:

  • Secular: SOS doesn’t invoke any higher power. Instead, there’s a focus on self-reliance and confidence in your ability to change.
  • Self-Empowerment: SOS believes you’re in charge of your own recovery journey, so they try to support you in taking control of your life and making conscious decisions to stay sober.
  • Community Support: SOS meetings still provide peer support—they give space to share experiences and strategies without religious or spiritual discussions. 

One thing to keep in mind is that SOS isn’t as widespread as some other programs, so finding a local meeting might require a bit of searching. But they do offer online resources and support groups, which can let you access SOS even if there’s no chapter near you.

LifeRing Secular Recovery

LifeRing is another option if you’re looking for a secular approach to recovery. Like SOS, LifeRing was established as an alternative to religion-focused recovery programs. It also grew out of a demand for more flexible approaches that didn’t prescribe strict guidelines for recovery.

As a recovery program, LifeRing:

  • Empowers Your “Sober Self”: LifeRing operates on the idea that within each person struggling with addiction, there’s a “sober self” and an “addict self.” The goal is to strengthen your sober self through positive support and self-empowerment so that it can overcome the addict self.
  • Offers Flexibility: There are no prescribed steps to follow. Instead, LifeRing encourages you to develop your own recovery plan. Their motto is “Empower Your Own Recovery.”
  • Focuses on the Present: Meetings center around what’s going on in your life right now. Participants talk about their current challenges and successes, supporting each other but not dwelling on labels or past mistakes.
  • Keeps It Secular: LifeRing maintains a strictly secular approach. There’s no discussion of a higher power or spiritual aspects, keeping it a comfortable space for those who prefer to keep religion out of their recovery journey.

While LifeRing isn’t as widely known as some other programs, it’s gaining popularity, especially among young adults who are looking for recovery support that’s personalized to them and non-religious. As with other alternative recovery programs, there’s less research on its effectiveness compared to AA, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t find it to be valuable on your path to sobriety.

Recovery Support, But Not Centered on Men’s Experiences

AA was created by men. That’s not to say it hasn’t helped women—it has, by the thousands—but women didn’t even attend AA until after the Big Book was written. 

The experiences, challenges, and societal expectations faced by women can be really different.

Women for Sobriety (WFS)

Dr. Jean Kirkpatrick wanted to get sober, but found that AA didn’t help her—- at least, not in the ways she needed as a woman battling alcoholism. After discovering and defining the strategies and principles that actually did help her achieve sobriety, she established Women for Sobriety in 1975. 

WFS is all about:

  • Positive Affirmations Instead of Steps: WFS is built around 13 Acceptance Statements that support emotional and spiritual growth. The statements are about building self-esteem, reducing guilt, and getting healthy.
  • Holistic Healing: WFS views addiction as about more than just the substance—it also involves a persons’ emotions, relationships, and self-worth. As a result, the program stresses that women in recovery need to nurture all aspects of their lives.
  • Empowerment Rather Than Powerlessness: Instead of admitting powerlessness over addiction (like AA calls for), WFS encourages you to recognize your strength and capability to change your life.
  • Peer Support: Meetings provide a space where women can share openly with each other without fear of judgment.

WFS offers both in-person and online meetings, which is awesome if you’re balancing a busy schedule or prefer connecting from the comfort of your home. Plus, it’s secular, so there’s no religious component unless you want there to be.

She Recovers

She Recovers was founded by Dawn Nickel and Taryn Strong, a mother/daughter duo. Like WFS, She Recovers is specifically built for women, but they use tools like yoga, meditation, and mindfulness to bolster their recovery program. Plus, it tackles issues like mental health, trauma, and stress. 

The She Recovers approach centers on:

  • Integrative Approaches: She Recovers embraces all pathways to recovery. Whether a woman is into 12-step programs, yoga, therapy, or something entirely different, they’re welcome.
  • Connection is Key: The program is big on the power of connection and community. They offer retreats, workshops, coaching programs, and a strong online presence so that there’s always a way to connect with other women on similar journeys.
  • Self-Care and Wellness: She Recovers encourages practices like yoga, meditation, and mindfulness as tools for healing. 
  • For All Women: The community welcomes all self-identified women and non-binary individuals more comfortable in a women-centered space. 

She Recovers also offers a directory of Certified Recovery Professionals whose training and work align with She Recovers principles. Women pursuing recovery can find coaches, yoga instructors, dance facilitators, and other healthcare professionals that can support their pursuit of sobriety.

Recovery Support, But Not Abstinence-Focused

You don’t have to be an addict to want to change your relationship with substances. Alcoholics Anonymous has a hardline approach to recovery- if you’re an addict, you need to stop using all substances, period. But not all people feel like they need that- and not all recovery programs require complete abstinence, either.

Moderation Management (MM)

Audrey Kishline founded MM in 1994. She wanted to help people who wanted to reduce drinking to healthier levels rather than quit entirely. According to MM, problem drinking exists on a spectrum, and not everyone needs (or wants to commit to) lifelong abstinence.

The key features of MM include:

  • Personal Responsibility: MM encourages you to take control of your drinking habits by setting and sticking to your own moderation goals.
  • Tools: The program provides strategies for cutting back, like tracking your drinks, setting limits, and planning alcohol-free days.
  • Supportive Community: MM offers meetings—both in-person and online—where members share experiences, challenges, and successes in a non-judgmental environment.
  • Step-by-Step Approach: MM recommends a 30-day period of no drinking to help you reset and evaluate your habits before moving into moderation.

MM isn’t right for everyone. If you have a severe alcohol dependence or a history of failed attempts at moderation, you might benefit more from abstinence-focused programs or professional treatment. 

Finding What Works for You

At first glance, the recovery world seems very 12-Step centric. Young people especially might not vibe with the traditional framework of AA, since the spiritual emphasis, the abstinence-only approach, and the fact that it was developed nearly a century ago by and for men can make it seem out of touch.

But the good news is that there are many ways to get to recovery.

If you’ve tried AA and know that it’s not what you need to get (and stay) sober, remember you’re not alone—after all, what works for a friend might not be what works for you. There are other communities available to help you. Don’t be afraid to explore your options, remember that recovery isn’t a straight line, and keep pushing to find the path that leads from where you are to a happier, healthier life.