Tag: Anxiety

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High-Functioning Alcohol Use: 10 Lessons from Sober Coach Courtney Anderson to Escape the Moderation Cycle

“From 19 to 29 was my, my decade-long career with alcohol. A love affair. Yes. A very toxic one.”

For many, the journey into sobriety isn’t a sudden fall but a slow, creeping realization that a habit once seen as fun or a rite of passage has become a toxic, decade-long career. Courtney Anderson, a sober coach, author, and podcast host, spent ten years navigating what is now often referred to as gray area drinking—where alcohol use causes significant distress and negative consequences without fitting the traditional, high-severity picture of alcoholism.

Courtney’s story, shared on Recoverycast, is a powerful testament to the fact that change is possible and a life beyond the moderation cycle is within reach, even for the high-functioning individual. Her experience moving from a shy teen who found freedom in booze to a high-achieving woman building a sober life offers a vital roadmap for others seeking to break free.

1. The Deceptive Allure of Alcohol for the Shy and Reserved

Courtney’s initial interactions with alcohol were marked by caution due to a family history of alcoholism and mental health issues. Her first heavy drinking experience at age 17 was “violently ill.” Yet, a trip across the border to Canada on her 19th birthday fundamentally shifted her perspective. She described this moment as falling in love with the drinking culture and how it made her feel.

“I was a shy kid… And so I felt like that first night of drinking at a bar, it loosened me up. I was able to dance with dudes. Like I just, it felt like I was finally free.”

For many who struggle with social anxiety or shyness, alcohol acts as a quick, albeit deceptive, social lubricant. This feeling of being “finally free” can create a powerful association between alcohol and self-confidence, setting the stage for a dependency that often goes unexamined for years. This is especially true in cultures, like the one she described in the Midwest, where heavy drinking is an ingrained social norm and “a natural evolution” in a young person’s life.

2. Understanding the Gray Area Drinking Spectrum

Courtney’s active drinking period, from age 19 to 29, was an evolution from “fun” to “something darker.” This decade showcases the full spectrum of alcohol use disorder (AUD), which wasn’t widely discussed as a spectrum when she was going through it. At 25, she recognized the internal voice telling her, “You’re gonna have to quit drinking one day,” yet she spent the next four years attempting to moderate.

Key elements of her gray area drinking included:

  • Blackouts: Losing hours or nights of memory.
  • Mixing Substances: The use of alcohol led to cocaine use, which she noted she “would not have done… if I wasn’t drinking.”
  • Functional Exterior: She “always held a job,” “always paid my bills,” and held it together, which is characteristic of high-functioning alcohol use. This outward appearance of control often delays seeking help because the individual, and those around them, minimize the internal struggle.
  • The Moderation Cycle: A four-year period of making rules for herself—”stick to beer only,” “only drink on the weekends”—only to slowly move the goalposts and “always going back to how it’s ended.” This constant bartering with yourself is exhausting and breeds shame.

3. The Shift from Hangovers to Panic Attacks

One of the most defining and terrifying shifts in Courtney’s drinking was the onset of extreme anxiety following a night of heavy use. After she turned 25, her “hangovers turned to panic attacks.” This is a common and critical progression in heavy drinking, often referred to as alcohol-induced anxiety or hangxiety.

“It was not just like a little teensy bits of anxiety. It was like full blown. I am thinking I’m going to die.”

The physical and psychological stress alcohol places on the central nervous system leads to a rebound effect when it leaves the body. The brain, attempting to rebalance from the depressant effects of alcohol, becomes hyper-excitable, leading to intense fear, racing heart, and the feeling of impending doom. This experience was so severe that it led her to an urgent care visit where, in her words, she genuinely felt she was “gonna die and have a heart attack.” This escalating consequence makes the cycle more difficult to maintain and often serves as a significant motivator for change.

4. The Cat-alyst: Finding Your Non-Self-Love Reason

Courtney’s ultimate decision to quit came after a dramatic blackout that resulted in her losing her cat, Fiona, by leaving a sliding glass door open. For three agonizing days, she was in the “worst hangover of my life,” crippled by guilt and shame, while her boyfriend was furious.

In a moment of desperation and clarity, she made a pact: If I find her, this is my sign to give up alcohol.

When Fiona emerged on the third day, the world went silent—a true “universe, god slash movie moment.” The cat, a rescue and the heart of her partner, became the catalyst for her change.

“A lot of people wanna debate this one where it’s like, well, you shouldn’t get sober for something else. But it’s like, but something’s gotta be the catalyst. And at, at that beginning, I did not love myself.”

While the eventual goal of sobriety is self-love, the starting line often involves a deep connection to something or someone else: a child, a partner, a pet, a career, or a health crisis. This external motivation provides the necessary leverage when self-worth is low. Her husband’s clear boundary—”You can continue to drink. I’m not gonna partake in this anymore… it’s too much”—also forced a choice: keep the drinking life or keep the loving partner.

5. Prioritizing the Single, Crucial Goal in Early Sobriety

After her “day one” on August 18, 2012, Courtney’s first year of sobriety was focused on one thing: not drinking today. She recognized the danger of trying to overhaul her entire life at once.

“That first year for me was just like, I’m not drinking today, and that is all I’m gonna focus… It’s too much [to take on everything at once].”

This foundational principle is critical for sustainable recovery. It involves:

  • White Knuckling: The first two years were admittedly a lot of “white knuckling”—pushing through cravings and discomfort with sheer willpower.
  • Holding onto Gratitude: Starting every morning with: “Thank you for another day sober.”
  • Radical Self-Care: Allowing herself to “eat cupcakes,” “nap if I need to,” and take time away from the world. This is the opposite of the perfectionism and people-pleasing that often fuel addiction.
  • The Ugly Process: Acknowledging the raw, unfiltered emotions that surfaced, including “driving around… like crying and screaming in my car.” This is the natural, messy, and necessary process of feeling the feelings she had been numbing for a decade.

Courtney also made an important distinction about traditional recovery programs: she found the 12 Steps overwhelming initially (“How the hell am I gonna stay sober for 10 years?”). This highlights the importance of finding a recovery path that resonates with the individual’s mental and emotional state at the time, which may not always be a one-size-fits-all approach. For those struggling to find the right fit, it’s important to explore various options and resources. Recovery.com offers tools to filter and find mental health and addiction treatment specific to your needs, including therapy types and levels of care.

6. The Three-Year Blueprint for Rebuilding a Sober Life

After prioritizing sobriety in year one, Courtney built upon that foundation with an intentional, phased approach. Her first year was all about stopping the drinking, focusing only on being sober today, and embracing radical self-care.

In her second year, she moved on to address her physical health, integrating “fitness and nutrition” now that her mind wasn’t clouded by alcohol.

Her third year was dedicated to personal development. This is when she started developing her “morning routine” of meditation and reading and actively returned to therapy to work on underlying emotional issues.

This phased approach prevents burnout and allows the individual to develop self-trust and confidence incrementally. Each day, week, and year sober builds a sense of “I can do hard things,” which replaces the shame and self-hatred of active addiction. This slow but steady process is how you develop the “new version of me.”

7. The Surprise Realizations of Early Sobriety

When asked about the biggest surprises in her first year, Courtney pointed to two major insights:

  1. The Overwhelming Surge of Emotion: Addiction is often about numbing. When the substance is removed, all the feelings—past trauma, present anxiety, sudden joy, and crushing guilt—come “to the surface” at once. This is the hardest part, but also the most essential for true healing.
  2. The Discovery of Inner Strength: “I’m a lot tougher than I thought… I can do hard things.” The courage it takes to get sober reveals a resilience that was hidden beneath the addiction. This newfound strength becomes the engine for long-term recovery.

8. Nurturing Recovery Long-Term: The Non-Negotiable Routine

Over a decade into sobriety, the work isn’t over—it evolves. Courtney’s continued sobriety relies on awareness and action to avoid becoming “stagnant” in recovery, which she calls “the dangerous thing.”

  • Getting Help When Needed: When she developed postpartum OCD after her son’s birth, she immediately went back to therapy, demonstrating that asking for help is a sign of strength, not failure.
  • Continuous Self-Regulation: A major challenge, even over a decade later, came in the form of motherhood. “I understand why mom’s drink. I get it. I have been humbled.” In that moment of intense stress, her awareness kicked in.
  • The Non-Negotiable Morning Routine: Her established year-three habits became her bedrock: “I had to get back onto my gratitude list, my 10 to 15 minutes of just reading personal development and get back onto my meditation.” Even on vacation, this routine is a non-negotiable tool for grounding herself. “At least I can control this,” she noted.

9. Coaching for the Highly Sensitive and Perfectionist

Courtney’s coaching practice, Sober Vibes, focuses on high-achieving women dealing with gray area drinking. She recognized a pattern: many of the women she works with are empaths and highly sensitive people (HSPs), often with tendencies toward perfectionism and codependency.

  • Empathy and Anxiety: Highly sensitive people feel everything deeply, and alcohol becomes a tool to “make it stop.”
  • The Codependency Trap: The relentless cycle of people-pleasing and over-booking themselves leads to depletion. “You gotta allow yourself some rest, you have to allow yourself, you time before you give all to others.” This continuous pouring from an empty cup leads to burnout and a “F it, what’s the point?” mindset that drives them back to the bottle.

Her coaching gives these women “permission just to be” and encourages radical rest and boundaries, breaking the cycle of self-sacrificing behavior that underlies their drinking.

10. The Power of Personalization in Healing

Courtney waited six years to become a coach to ensure she had worked through her own codependency and had a solid foundation. Her core philosophy is that “there’s no one way to heal because it’s so personalized. It’s not one size fits all.” This is why she works one-on-one with clients, meeting them where they are and building a bespoke plan based on their unique personality and challenges.

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Alyson Stoner on Navigating Trauma and an Eating Disorder in the Hollywood Spotlight

Alyson Stoner, a familiar face from childhood classics like Cheaper by the Dozen, Step Up, and Camp Rock, knows the intense, often unsustainable, pressures of the entertainment industry firsthand. Starting at a young age, Stoner was immersed in 80-hour work weeks, financial responsibilities, and constant public scrutiny that extended to their body and personal life, leading to struggles with disordered eating, severe anxiety, and a deep lack of personal boundaries.

Now, as a certified mental health practitioner, policy advocate, and New York Times bestselling author of the memoir Semi Well Adjusted, Despite Literally Everything, Stoner has transformed their experience into a powerful platform for change. They are the founder of Movement Genius, a digital platform offering therapist-led content, and a mental health coordinator for film productions.

On Recoverycast, Stoner shared the profound lessons learned from their journey through the Hollywood pressure cooker and into a life of proactive wellness. Their story offers a crucial window into how systemic issues in high-demand environments can impact a developing mind, and more importantly, how healing, agency, and recovery can be found, even when your foundation has been constantly shifting.

Recognizing That Traumas Can Become “Superpowers”

A key theme in recovery is learning to re-contextualize the coping mechanisms and survival strategies developed during times of stress. What was once necessary to survive can, with conscious effort, be channeled into something productive.

“That’s where you take the hypervigilance that was once suggested a survival strategy and apply it in a proactive way,” Stoner notes. They reflect that many qualities others praise in their career—their “superpowers”—are actually rooted in the very traumas they experienced. For instance, the constant need to be adaptable and ready for change on set, while initially creating an imbalance, can be reframed as a high degree of flexibility and responsiveness in their adult work as a practitioner and advocate.

This process involves recognizing that the drive, attention to detail, or ability to anticipate problems (hypervigilance) isn’t inherently bad; the problem lies in the source and the intensity of its demand. By becoming aware of the origin, one gains the choice to use the skill purposefully rather than being driven by a subconscious need to survive.

Understanding the Child Performer’s First Map of the World

For any child, repeated experiences and absorbed messages form the foundational “map of the world.” For a child performer, this map is drawn under extreme and often unnatural conditions, leading to distorted perceptions of self and safety.

Stoner outlines the key differences between a typical childhood foundation and one built in the entertainment industry:

  • Lack of Routine and Consistency: Instead of reliable school schedules and a consistent home life, Stoner was working 80-hour weeks on constantly changing sets, eliminating the stability necessary for a secure attachment.
  • Blurred Identity: Young children lack a formed sense of self and primarily absorb external messages. Playing multiple characters without tools to differentiate led to blurred lines between their own thoughts and those of a role. Stoner felt like “tofu in essence,” absorbing the flavor of whatever role or environment surrounded them.
  • Reversed Caregiver Roles: Child performers can become financially responsible for a team of adults, placing the child in a position of power and vulnerability simultaneously. This compromises the safe, trustworthy space a young person needs from attuned caregivers.
  • Public Scrutiny: Dealing with public criticism and lack of privacy from a very young age teaches the child that the external world is a primary source of threat and judgment.

The Shift from Human Being to Product

The most detrimental implicit shift, Stoner explains, was learning to see themselves as an object:

“I came to know my body, my mind and body as an object to fix or a project to complete, because I was the product.”

This realization, driven by constant demands for modification in auditions and performances, replaced listening to their basic human needs. The self became a tool—something to be molded, starved, or overworked to meet an external standard. This environment cultivated a deep lack of boundaries, where they were programmed to be “fully available and accessible to everyone at all times,” often overlooking their own health and well-being.

Recognizing the “Toddler to Train Wreck Pipeline”

Stoner coined the term “toddler to train wreck pipeline” to describe the repeating spiral of young high-performing individuals (in arts, sports, or academics) who experience an early peak and then undergo a public downward spiral involving mental health crises, exploitation, or addiction.

This pipeline, Stoner argues, is not due to personal failure, but to major systemic variables that are not addressed in the industry. It’s a preventable crisis. By analyzing media culture, industry protocols, and child labor laws, Stoner recognized that proactive intervention is possible. Their current work as a mental health coordinator for film productions addresses these very gaps, creating protocols to support the psychological safety of cast and crew.

Coping Strategies as Natural Responses to Extreme Circumstance

The struggles with disordered eating and over-exercising were not random but were “responses to really extreme and bizarre circumstances.” In an environment where control over life, safety, and identity was nonexistent, these behaviors provided a false sense of agency and control.

Stoner also highlights the high-octane nature of the work itself, which contributed to an addictive high pattern:

“I think that too, as a child, I didn’t realize what was happening, but I was developing that sort of addictive high pattern… So even when I wasn’t booking work anymore, or as regularly, I would find other things to do that would give me that same spike.”

Performing in front of thousands of people offers an adrenaline and dopamine rush that is followed by a natural dip, known as a post-tour depressive period. Without tools to understand or manage this cycle, the body seeks that high through other means. The eating disorder, therefore, became an unconscious attempt to keep it all together and suppress emotions that would have interfered with the job.

The Need for Proactive Mental Health Coordination

The lack of mental health support on sets was a significant factor in the toll taken on Stoner and their peers. At the time, creative spaces prioritized the story’s intensity over the human cost.

This problem extended beyond the child actor to every member of the production. This includes crew members setting up scenes that might trigger past trauma, editors working in dark rooms cutting intense material for long hours, and even the audience, whose constant consumption of intense, violent material leads to desensitization and dissociation. Stoner’s work as a mental health coordinator is now focused on ensuring ethical media creation for everyone involved, from the performers to the crew and the audience.

The Journey to Treatment: Repairing the “Instrument”

At 17, after realizing their disordered eating had taken control and following a significant audition, Stoner entered treatment. Initially, the goal was merely to “repair my instrument, and then get back out in the game”—a reflection of the product mentality.

However, treatment provided a radically different experience, including a steady, structured schedule, adults not on the payroll who were invested in their human development, and the space to ask: “What do you want for your life?” This environment allowed the deeper, years-long conditioning to begin to unravel.

The first day was incredibly difficult, marked by chemical and emotional withdrawal from the dependencies they had built. “It felt like my body was on fire,” Stoner recalls, a testament to how physically hard it is to quit a survival mechanism.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) as the First Step

In early recovery, the focus shifted to cognitive tools to manage the racing thoughts that drove the unhealthy behaviors. Stoner found immense utility in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), particularly the creation of trigger cards. This involved assessing triggers, naming old ways (the historical, non-serving response), and then establishing highly specific replacement strategies for that particular trigger. The consistent, moment-to-moment practice of “catching the thought as it happens, challenging the truth of it, and changing it in real time” was a critical early intervention.

Embracing Somatic Tools to Regulate the Nervous System

While CBT helped with the mind, the body needed a different approach. After leaving the structured environment of treatment and re-engaging with life’s stressors, Stoner shifted to somatic tools—practices that focus on the mind-body connection—to handle the inevitable discomfort.

Somatic work teaches a person how to feel discomfort without immediately needing to run away or fix it with a coping mechanism. This is a difficult pivot, especially when society often equates meditation with “emptying your mind,” which is nearly impossible for someone with an activated nervous system.

The Power of Titration and Patience in Healing

Working with a somatic psychotherapist, Stoner was introduced to the concept of titration—a technique for managing intense emotional experiences by working in small, manageable doses.

Imagine being in a pot of hot water. When the stress (“heat”) becomes too much and you start to “boil over,” titration involves using small techniques to dial down the heat to a manageable level before dipping back into the difficult work.

For Stoner, this meant a session might only involve noticing that their hand formed an angry fist when a difficult topic was raised. That’s it. The session’s goal was not a breakthrough but to feel and name the physical reaction without escalating. This slow, steady process acknowledges that the body will resist change if pushed too far, viewing it as unsafe.

Finding Your Path: The Diverse Faces of Recovery

Stoner emphasizes that there is no single path to healing. Recovery is not a one-size-fits-all process.

For some, it means walking away from the source of trauma forever. For others, it might mean doing the deep work to heal and then using that knowledge to become an advocate or an agent of change within the very system that caused the harm. The key is developing the wisdom and discernment to know what is best for your current stage of healing, and to avoid re-traumatizing yourself by rushing to turn pain into purpose.

The ability to pivot from a life of intense performance to one of thoughtful practice and advocacy has allowed Stoner to help the next generation avoid the pitfalls they experienced. By sharing their story, they offer both a mirror for those who recognize their own struggles and a window for others to understand the vital need for systemic change in high-pressure industries.

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Lauren Welch’s 11 Signs That It’s Time to Reevaluate Your Relationship with Alcohol

In a world where “mommy wine culture” and social drinking are not only normalized but often celebrated, it can be incredibly difficult to recognize when a casual habit crosses the line into something more. For many, the progression is a slow, almost imperceptible burn, a gradual shift from social experimentation to a nightly ritual. It’s not always a dramatic rock bottom, but rather a quiet realization that something isn’t working anymore.

In a recent episode of Recoverycast, host Brittani Baynard sat down with Lauren Welch, a salon owner, hairstylist, and the founder of Sober Curious Society. Lauren’s journey is a powerful testament to this reality—a story that moves from a “normal” childhood and typical adolescent partying to a sober-curious life sparked by a series of pivotal, deeply personal events. Her experience sheds light on the subtle signs that can signal a need for change, even when your life appears to be “together.”

1. Recognizing the “Slow Burn” of Alcohol Use

Lauren’s story begins like many others: with early experimentation in high school. “I had a quote unquote normal childhood,” she shares, a statement that underscores the seemingly harmless beginnings of her relationship with alcohol. She describes a social life centered around parties in rural Land O’Lakes, Florida, where she first noticed a difference in her own drinking habits compared to her peers. “I even like knew back then that I overdid it more than other kids did,” she admits. This early awareness is a crucial sign—an internal red flag that many people, including Lauren, initially dismiss.

This slow progression continued through college and her early career as a hairstylist. While she was able to maintain her studies and professional life, drinking remained a central pillar of her social identity. “Everything we did involved drinking,” Lauren said. This is a common theme for many people, where alcohol becomes the foundation of friendships and social activities. The identity of being the “fun” or “party” person can become so intertwined with drinking that the thought of stepping away feels like losing a piece of yourself.

2. When Drinking Shifts from Social to Solitary

A significant turning point in Lauren’s story occurred after she had her children. The social party scene was replaced with the quiet solitude of home life, and her drinking habits adapted to match. The glass of wine she started with became a nightly ritual—a way to unwind after a long day of motherhood and work.

“It switched from going out to bars to drinking on my couch,” she explains. This transition is a key indicator that alcohol is no longer just a social lubricant but has become a coping mechanism. The public affirmation of being a “fun” partier is replaced by a private, often lonely, reliance on alcohol to manage stress and anxiety. For Lauren, this was exacerbated by the pandemic, a period she describes as a “never ending hurricane party” that made it feel acceptable to drink more heavily. The stresses of a newborn, a business shutdown, and her husband’s furlough created a perfect storm of anxiety, and alcohol became the only tool she felt she had to cope.

3. The Unpredictability of Your Body’s Reaction

As Lauren’s drinking progressed, she began to notice a startling inconsistency in how her body reacted to alcohol. She describes a feeling of being “freaked out” by her own behavior. “I could have a glass of wine and be like blackout drunk sometimes,” she shares, “or I could have like several drinks and be up and talking and you wouldn’t know that I drank a lot.” This unpredictability is a serious warning sign. It suggests that your body’s tolerance and response to alcohol have become dysregulated, making it impossible to control the outcome of a single drink. This lack of control is a major characteristic of alcohol use disorder.

This phenomenon of a shifting tolerance is often a sign of increased physiological dependence. As the body adapts to regular alcohol intake, the brain’s chemistry is altered, leading to unpredictable and sometimes dangerous reactions. The simple act of having a drink is no longer a guaranteed outcome; it becomes a gamble with your own behavior and well-being.

Explore alcohol addiction treatment centers.

4. When Alcohol Becomes a Daily Craving

For Lauren, the habit became so ingrained that it triggered a psychological response similar to Pavlov’s Bell. The sound of a cork popping or a bottle opening would send a signal to her brain that it was time to drink. “I’m not joking, like the cork like opening, it would send this like response, like the sound of it. It was very weird,” she says. This is a classic example of classical conditioning, where a neutral stimulus (the sound of a cork) becomes associated with a desired outcome (the feeling of drinking alcohol). This craving is not just a passing thought; it’s a part of a daily routine, “like clockwork” that dictates her actions.

This behavioral pattern indicates that alcohol is no longer a choice but a compulsion. The brain has been rewired to anticipate and seek out the substance, making it incredibly difficult to break the cycle without addressing the underlying psychological and physical dependence.

5. Using Alcohol to Numb Traumatic Loss

The most significant event that fueled Lauren’s drinking was a series of personal tragedies that struck her family in quick succession. After opening her new salon suite, she experienced the sudden death of her husband’s brother, followed by her own father’s stroke just two weeks later. This double blow left her feeling overwhelmed and powerless. “I was just so sad and so angry,” she recalls. In the face of such immense grief, alcohol became her primary coping tool—a way to numb the pain and escape the reality of her loss.

While it is natural to seek comfort during a time of grief, turning to alcohol can create a cycle of avoidance and dependence. It prevents the brain from processing emotions in a healthy way and can exacerbate feelings of depression and anxiety in the long run. Lauren notes, “I was just so depressed and sad and anxious and, you know, you put on like a good face for like your family and your kids and all that kind of stuff. But I felt like I was like crumbling inside.” This external strength, combined with internal turmoil, is a dangerous combination that can lead to isolation and deeper reliance on alcohol.

See grief treatment options.

6. Arguments Stemming from Alcohol Use

One of the most telling signs of a problem, for Lauren, was the conflict it created in her marriage. Her husband, who is a recovering addict himself, became concerned about her drinking habits. “A lot of our arguments would be stemmed from when I was drinking,” she admits. Alcohol lowered her inhibitions, giving her “liquid courage” to bring up long-held frustrations, which often escalated into arguments.

This is a common issue for couples where one partner is struggling with alcohol use. Alcohol can impair judgment, increase aggression, and lead to communication breakdowns. The partner who is not drinking may feel they are walking on eggshells, while the one who is drinking may feel judged or controlled. This dynamic can erode trust and intimacy over time. Lauren mentions that her husband was “supportive, but stern,” which is an important balance for loved ones to strike. Offering support while also setting firm boundaries can be a crucial step in helping someone acknowledge and address their alcohol use.

7. When Your Defense Mechanisms Are Stronger Than Your Honesty

Despite the obvious signs, Lauren was in a state of denial about her drinking. When she and her husband went to see a therapist, she framed the issue as “He thinks that I drink too much, but I only have a couple glasses of wine.” This attempt to rationalize her behavior and shift the blame is a powerful defense mechanism. The therapist, wisely, did not take a side, instead allowing Lauren to come to her own conclusions.

This illustrates the challenge of addressing alcohol use. The individual must be willing to confront their own denial, which can be a slow and difficult process. Lauren acknowledges this, saying she “was still grasping to like, make other people realize, ‘Yeah, she’s fine.'” This need for external validation, to be told that her behavior was normal and acceptable, was a significant barrier to her recovery.

8. Putting On a Brave Face While “Crumbling Inside”

Lauren’s story is a powerful reminder that addiction doesn’t always look like what we see in movies. She was a successful business owner, a mother, and a wife who appeared to have it all together. However, underneath the surface, she was struggling deeply. “I felt like I was like crumbling of like,” she says. This is often the case with high-functioning alcohol use disorder. People who are able to maintain their jobs, relationships, and responsibilities may not fit the stereotype of an “addict,” which can make it even harder for them to seek help.

The act of “compartmentalizing” life is a common coping strategy. Lauren used her work to distract herself from the grief and stress she was experiencing. While this can be effective in the short term, it prevents true emotional processing. The pressure to appear strong and in control can be immense, especially for women and mothers who are often seen as the emotional anchors of their families. For Lauren, this meant she had to put on a “good face” for everyone, while internally she felt like she was falling apart.

9. The Fear of Being a Burden and Feeling Alone

When asked why she didn’t open up to others about her struggles, Lauren and Brittani both spoke to a common feeling of not wanting to be a burden. “I just felt like how, how? Like, how do I say it? Yeah. And like if I say that something’s wrong, what’s gonna happen?” Lauren shares. This fear of vulnerability can lead to profound isolation. People may feel that their problems are too big for anyone else to handle, so they keep them to themselves.

This sense of isolation is a key factor in the cycle of addiction. When people feel that they have to carry their burdens alone, they are more likely to turn to substances to cope. The shame and stigma associated with addiction can make it feel impossible to reach out for help. However, as Lauren’s story shows, the turning point often comes when you finally admit that you can’t do it alone and start the journey toward healing.

10. The Breaking Point: From “One Week” to a New Way of Life

For Lauren, the epic “meltdown” that became the catalyst for her sober journey didn’t happen in a dark, lonely place. It happened at a “black-tie, very fancy” family wedding where she was a bridesmaid. While holding a glass of wine, she “start screaming and yelling and acting like a total lunatic.” In that moment, she realized she had no one left to blame but herself. This public, undeniable display of her loss of control became her moment of clarity. “I was like, I think I’m gonna not drink for a week,” she remembers telling herself. This small, seemingly manageable goal was the first step toward a complete lifestyle change.

This is a powerful example of what is often called a “rock bottom,” but it’s a personal one. It doesn’t have to be a major catastrophe; it can be an event that forces you to confront the reality of your behavior and its consequences. From that week-long break, Lauren never looked back. Her “sober curious” journey was sparked, and it has since led to the creation of the Sober Curious Society, a community dedicated to exploring all aspects of sobriety.

11. Creating a New Life and Finding Genuine Connections

Today, Lauren is a testament to the fact that a life without alcohol is not a life without fun. She works with younger people who have found creative, sober ways to socialize and connect. “The amount of activities that they all do that don’t involve drinking is so cool,” she says. This is a stark contrast to her own youth, where every activity was centered around drinking.

She emphasizes the importance of building “bonds not based around like substances,” and reflects on her past friendships. “I think I had a million acquaintances, but I don’t know if I could have like, counted on someone to open up to.” Sobriety, for Lauren, has been about replacing those surface-level connections with genuine, meaningful relationships. It’s about finding joy in life’s simple moments and learning to be present, rather than constantly seeking to escape.

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Kelly U’s 5 Insights on Navigating Binge Eating Disorder, Depression, and Codependency

https://youtu.be/NItyDrgCp1w

The journey to mental wellness is rarely a straight path. It is often a complex and winding road filled with unexpected detours and challenges. For many, this journey begins in childhood, rooted in silent struggles and emotional turmoil that manifest in adulthood. The story of Kelly U, a mental health and wellness advocate, is a powerful testament to this reality. Her raw and honest conversation on the Recoverycast podcast sheds light on the origins of her disordered eating, her battles with codependency, and her ultimate triumph in finding sobriety and self-acceptance. By delving into her personal narrative, we can uncover key insights into how early life experiences can shape our mental health and how the right tools and support can lead to profound healing.

1. The Genesis of Disordered Eating: An Origin Story

At the tender age of 10, a seemingly innocuous comment from a boy at school served as a catalyst for what would become years of struggle with disordered eating for Kelly. While the remark “you got like really chubby” was the trigger, it was the underlying family tension and a household where emotions were suppressed that created fertile ground for her to seek control through food. This experience highlights a critical truth about eating disorders: they are not simply about food or body image; they are often a coping mechanism for deeper emotional distress.

“His comment didn’t cause me to develop an eating disorder. That you just sort of would, just needed the perfect thing to light the fire.”

The real fuel was an inability to process and communicate about the “brooding feel” of tension in her home. Children, especially, are highly attuned to their environment and will often internalize the emotional climate of their household, even when the issues are never directly spoken about. Kelly’s desire to numb out and escape into a “fantasy world” through reading was an early sign of her struggle to cope, a behavior that would later escalate into more harmful forms of avoidance.

The story also touches on the complex role of family dynamics in shaping a person’s relationship with their body. Kelly’s mother, a former beauty pageant queen, was highly aware of her appearance and her own struggles with body image. While she never commented on Kelly’s body, her mother’s own anxieties created a template for Kelly to internalize. When the boy’s comment came, it validated an unspoken anxiety that was already present in her environment. This shows that even without direct criticism, parental behaviors and self-perceptions can profoundly influence a child’s body image and self-worth.

2. When Coping Becomes the Problem

Kelly’s journey from restriction to binging illustrates the vicious cycle of disordered eating. After being “forced to just eat,” she swung from anorexia to binge eating, finding a new form of escape. She describes the experience of binge eating Captain Crunch cereal at age 12, not as a moment of indulgence, but as a form of dissociation.

“When I was binge eating, I could also fully not be in the room because I’m. Literally shoving food in my face and covered in shame.”

This powerful description reveals that the act of binging was a means to “fully not be in the room,” a way to distract herself from the constant fear, guilt, and emotional turmoil of her life. The shame that followed the binge eating created a constant “freak out” that consumed her mental space, leaving no room to deal with her parents’ fighting or her own inner struggles. This cycle of binging and shame became its own kind of “drug,” a destructive mechanism that allowed her to avoid her real-life problems.

The podcast also touches on the complex relationship between disordered eating and substance use, specifically marijuana. For Kelly, smoking weed provided a “high of permission” to engage in binge eating, escalating a behavior she already struggled with. This highlights how different vices can become intertwined, each one reinforcing the other and creating a more difficult path to recovery. Her story serves as a reminder that when we seek to numb our pain, we often create new problems that compound the original issues.

Explore treatment options for eating disorders and marijuana addiction.

3. The Role of Codependency and Abusive Relationships

As Kelly transitioned into adulthood, her struggles with self-esteem and codependency became evident in her romantic relationships. Her seven-year relationship with a “narcissistically abusive” partner became a new arena for her emotional turmoil. In this dynamic, she sought the love and acceptance she felt was lacking in her life, but instead, she found manipulation and control.

“I was so mentally unwell and I was super codependent. So I played such a part in that relationship keeping, keeping it alive because I was so desperate for him to just love me and accept me.”

This quote is a stark admission of how codependency can lead a person to stay in an unhealthy relationship. Kelly’s desire for love and acceptance from her partner mirrored her earlier attempts to seek a sense of control and stability in her life. The relationship provided a twisted sense of purpose, even if it was a negative one. She was so consumed with trying to “fix” the relationship and gain his affection that she lost herself in the process.

The abusive nature of the relationship, with constant cheating and emotional manipulation, further eroded her self-worth. Her partner’s gaslighting tactics, like saying “you’re not supportive of me by you being upset with me,” are classic signs of narcissistic abuse. This type of emotional manipulation is designed to make the victim feel responsible for the abuser’s actions, trapping them in a cycle of self-blame and emotional distress. It was only when a couples therapist directly confronted her with the diagnosis of codependency and narcissism that she began to see her situation clearly.

See codependency treatment centers.

4. Embracing Therapy and Finding Your Voice

Despite being in a toxic relationship, Kelly’s ex-boyfriend was the one who encouraged her to go to therapy. This seemingly contradictory act was the key that unlocked her healing journey. While she initially sought therapy to “fix” her binge eating, her therapist’s first question—”What’s your relationship with your dad like?”—shifted her focus from symptoms to root causes.

“I’m really grateful that she asked me that because from then on for years, I’d been unraveling a lot of that and healing a lot of that and working with my family on that.”

This moment was a turning point. It forced her to look beyond the surface-level issues and confront the deeper familial trauma that had been silently influencing her life. Therapy became a safe space to unravel her past, set boundaries with her family, and eventually find a more compassionate way to approach her relationships.

A pivotal moment in Kelly’s recovery was when she began to share her story on social media. What started as an accountability tool became a powerful way to connect with others and realize she wasn’t alone. When she posted about her struggles with binge eating, the outpouring of support and shared experiences validated her and encouraged her to be more honest with herself. This act of vulnerability was a radical departure from a life spent hiding and enabled her to reclaim her narrative.

5. The Power of Sharing and the Freedom of Self-Expression

For Kelly, sharing her story publicly became a form of both self-preservation and advocacy. Her YouTube diary series, in which she documented her recovery journey, was a way to hold herself accountable and stay on the path of healing. The online community she built provided a sense of connection that had been missing for most of her life.

“I started to document what I was learning in therapy in a YouTube diary series. . . I wanted to stay accountable to something.”

Her social media presence became a direct threat to the manipulative control her ex had over her. The letter he slid under her door, begging her not to “post a video that our friends and family will see,” was a final, desperate attempt to maintain his facade. Kelly’s decision to keep that letter, and other mementos from the relationship, was not an act of malice but an act of self-preservation—a physical reminder of how far she had come and why she should never go back.

This final act of defiance and self-expression solidified her recovery journey. It was a declaration of her own truth, one that could no longer be silenced or controlled by others. By sharing her story, she not only helped herself but also became a beacon of hope for others who are navigating similar struggles. Kelly’s story shows us that finding our voice, even when it’s hard, is a crucial step toward freedom and lasting recovery.

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Michael’s 8-Step Guide to Overcoming Addiction and Anxiety

Addiction is often a symptom of a deeper, underlying issue. It’s a journey into numbness, a way to escape the difficult emotions and insecurities that feel too overwhelming to face. For Michael, his battle with addiction wasn’t just about substances; it was a desperate search for a sense of belonging and self-worth that he believed he could only find by hiding his true self. His story is a powerful testament to the fact that what we seek in external things—whether it’s alcohol, work, or a relationship—can only truly be found when we turn inward. This is Michael’s journey from a life of avoidance to one of authentic empowerment and purpose.

1. The Allure of Numbness: Michael’s Story of Escaping Emotions

Addiction often begins as a seemingly harmless escape, a way to numb the uncomfortable feelings that life presents. For Michael, his journey into addiction started with alcohol as a teenager, a way to cope with crippling anxiety and a sense of not being “enough.” He felt like he had to be a high-performer to be worthy, a feeling that stemmed from watching his family members succeed. The pressure to measure up created a deep-seated anxiety he couldn’t face.

“I didn’t equate my worth to who I was, my authentic self, my curiosity, my creativity, my love,” Michael shares, highlighting a common thread in addiction: seeking external validation to fill an internal void. For him, alcohol was a tool to silence the critical inner voice and the fear of judgment. He describes sitting in a bar for an hour, building up the courage to be himself, only to feel a deep sense of shame the next day. This cycle of using and then feeling unworthy became a recurring pattern.

2. The Duality of Seeking and Avoiding

Michael’s relationship with substances wasn’t just about seeking a high; it was a complex dance of seeking freedom and avoiding pain. “I would say more majority of it is avoiding something,” he admits. He was actively trying to escape difficult emotions, such as the grief and pain he felt when his stepmother was battling bone cancer. This avoidance manifested not only in his alcohol use but also in other compulsive behaviors.

“I was willing to do whatever I had to do not to be in my mind,” he says. This avoidance extended beyond substances, bleeding into his life even in early recovery. He would work 70 hours a week, and people would praise him for being a “hard worker.” In reality, it was another form of escape, a way to avoid dealing with his internal struggles. Michael also turned to pornography and video games as a way to avoid self-reflection and healing.

His story illustrates a critical point about addiction: it’s not just about a single substance. It’s often about a pattern of using external things to cope with internal pain. When one crutch is removed, another can quickly take its place. This is why a holistic approach to recovery that addresses the underlying emotional and psychological issues is so crucial.

3. The Search for an Authentic Self

For years, Michael’s identity was built on what he thought others wanted him to be. He would try to please people, thinking his “gift was being nice to people or listening to ’em, regardless of how they treated me or how they made me feel.” This led to a “beggar mentality,” where he would hang out with anyone who would give him attention, even if it wasn’t good for him.

The turning point came when he started a process of self-discovery. He began asking himself a fundamental question: “What would I do if nobody would ever go with me?” He would write down a list of things he wanted to do, and then he would do them alone. This process was a way of reconnecting with his own desires and interests, a voice that had been silenced for years by his substance use.

“When I was using substances, it robbed me of everything,” Michael explains, describing how his intuition and inner voice died. He says that voice is quiet even in the best of times, but under the influence of substances, it becomes non-existent. This self-exploration became a way of reviving that voice, of listening to his own needs and desires, and of building a life that was authentic to him.

See alcohol addiction treatment options.

4. The Power of Vulnerability and Community

Michael’s path to recovery wasn’t a solitary one. It was a journey into vulnerability, facilitated by the support of a community. After a terrifying experience with withdrawals that led to hospitalization, he finally committed to seeking help. He began attending 12-step meetings, where people showed him a level of kindness and acceptance he had never experienced.

At first, he was skeptical, believing that people were being kind for a reason. He thought they were part of a “cult” and that their kindness had to have a hidden agenda. But then, he experienced a moment that shifted his entire perspective. He was sitting around a fire with a group of people from his recovery group, and he looked around and had an epiphany: “So either all these people actually do love you, and like that’s what’s real, or like all the shit that you’re saying in your head is like, is correct. And I just felt like it was like there’s, it’s much more likely that those like, you know, like those 20 or 30 people or all those instances are what’s real and I’m just full of shit at that moment.”

This realization was life-changing. He began to practice a radical form of honesty, sharing his deepest fears and insecurities with his community. He found that when he would say the “scariest, worst parts of” himself out loud, people didn’t judge him. Instead, they loved him and cared for him. This experience taught him that vulnerability is not a weakness but a source of power and connection.

5. Transforming Destructive Energy into a Force for Good

A profound shift for Michael occurred when he realized that the same energy and devotion he poured into his addictions could be used in other, more positive ways. This concept is a cornerstone of his recovery. Instead of using his tenacity to find a fix, he now channels it into a life of purpose and fulfillment.

He says, “If I was willing to go that far for something that’s fucking killing me, like what could I do for something that’s actually meaningful?” This question became a driving force. He recognized that addiction, in a twisted way, showed him his capacity to care deeply and to be tenacious. He now applies that same intensity to his recovery and his life, pursuing passions and goals with the same vigor he once used to pursue substances.

Michael believes that a fulfilling life in recovery must be just as exciting, passionate, and vibrant as the life he had in addiction. This is his way of ensuring he never feels the need to go back. Instead of just mitigating his anxiety, he now actively seeks out opportunities to be as open and vulnerable as possible. He says this is a way of “pushing down that way” and making it so that substances have no purpose in his life. He no longer needs alcohol to be uninhibited, because he’s learned to be himself without it.

6. The Power of “I Don’t Know”

One of the most valuable lessons Michael has learned is the importance of humility. He reflects on his decade-long struggle with addiction and the realization that he was “completely wrong and out of alignment” with who he was. This experience taught him to question his own certainties.

“If I was that wrong for that long of a period of time, who am I now to say that I’m above, like thinking in another way,” he says. This humility allows him to stay open to new ideas and to learn from others. He believes everyone has “secrets or these keys” that can help you progress faster.

This shift from a mindset of “I know everything” to one of “I don’t know, but I’m willing to learn” has been a catalyst for his growth. He’s found immense power in being vulnerable enough to admit when he needs help and to accept the guidance of others. It’s a fundamental break from the isolation of addiction and a powerful step toward a life of connection and continuous learning.

7. Overcoming the Fear of Being “Too Much”

For Michael, a significant part of his journey was overcoming the fear of being “too much” for others. He had a deep-seated belief that if he were to reveal his true, authentic self—all his flaws, sensitivities, and insecurities—people would reject him. He was afraid they would think he was “weird” or “flawed.”

“I thought people just wouldn’t talk to me after that,” he admits. But when he finally took that leap and shared his darkest thoughts, the opposite happened. People cared and loved him regardless. This experience helped him deconstruct the idea that he needed to perform or pretend to be someone else to be worthy of love.

Michael’s journey is a testament to the idea that true connection is built on authenticity, not perfection. When he stopped trying to be what he thought others wanted, he found that he was freer and that he attracted “really good relationships” with people who were drawn to his vulnerability. He realized that we are all meant to be “unique expressions” and that true fulfillment comes from following the path our own soul tells us.

8. The Unending Nature of Recovery

Michael’s story is a reminder that recovery isn’t a destination; it’s a series of turning points and an ongoing process of self-discovery. Each day presents an opportunity for growth and a chance to make a choice that aligns with his authentic self.

He’s learned to listen to his body and his intuition, to explore what brings him joy, and to be his own best companion. The love he once sought in substances and external validation, he now cultivates within himself. His journey shows that the work of recovery is not about getting sober; it’s about building a life so full of purpose, love, and authenticity that you’ll never want to go back.

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Coping with Childhood Trauma: 8 Ways to Overcome Alcohol Addiction and Anxiety with Kori Leigh

Life isn’t happening to you; it’s just happening. This profound realization, shared by Kori Leigh, a writer, recovery mentor, and host of The Kori Leigh Show podcast, is a cornerstone of her recovery journey. She challenges the common notion that life’s hardships are a personal attack, instead reframing them as neutral events to be navigated. In a powerful conversation on Recoverycast, Kori shared her story of navigating profound childhood trauma, a destructive battle with addiction, and the eventual surrender that led to a life of purpose and faith.

Before she reached sobriety in 2016, Kori’s life was a maelstrom of rage, self-hatred, and chaotic substance use, all stemming from a traumatic childhood. Her narrative isn’t just about overcoming addiction; it’s a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the transformative power of a 12-step recovery program. Kori’s story is a raw and honest look at how unresolved trauma can fuel addiction and how the painful process of facing one’s past is the only way to build a future worth living.

1. Childhood Trauma as a Catalyst

From a young age, Kori’s world was marked by loss and emotional turmoil. Her older brother died from a heart condition when she was an infant, and her father passed away from a brain aneurysm when she was six years old. The trauma of losing her father, a man she adored, left a deep, indelible mark on her psyche. As a child, she struggled to comprehend the arbitrary nature of his death and developed a deep-seated hatred for God and a profound distrust of life itself.

“I hated God for taking my dad,” Kori shared. This anger became her primary coping mechanism, manifesting as rage, resentment, and a feeling of being abandoned by the very fabric of existence. This early trauma set the stage for a lifetime of seeking escape, a pattern that would later lead her down the path of addiction. The sudden, unexplained loss shattered her sense of safety and made her feel like a “puppy that had fallen off the back of the truck,” left to fend for herself in a world that seemed inherently hostile.

See trauma treatment centers.

2. The Illusion of Control: The “Perfect” Double Life

Throughout her addiction, Kori maintained a facade of success and normalcy. She was a personal trainer, a marathon runner, and an author. She built a life that, from the outside, appeared to be thriving. This is a classic hallmark of high-functioning addiction—the ability to hide the chaos and destruction behind a veneer of accomplishment. For Kori, her athletic achievements and professional success were not sources of pride but rather tools for denial.

“No one can tell with me,” she stated, reflecting on her ability to mask her struggles. She believed that her outward success was proof that she didn’t have a problem, an idea that many people with substance use disorders cling to. This double life was a way to manage the intense shame and self-hatred that festered beneath the surface. It was a vicious cycle of self-harm, emotional chaos, and intense self-criticism.

This dual existence is a common theme in the lives of high-functioning addicts. They often excel in their careers, maintain social relationships, and engage in physically demanding activities, all while battling a severe addiction in secret. The shame and fear of exposure drive them to work even harder to maintain the illusion of control, making it incredibly difficult for loved ones to recognize the problem. The facade crumbles only when the addiction becomes so severe that it can no longer be hidden.

Explore alcohol addiction treatment centers.

3. The Onset of Addiction: “I Was a Blackout Party Girl”

Kori’s substance use began in her teens, but it didn’t escalate into full-blown addiction until her mid-twenties. Her drug of choice wasn’t a daily habit but a weekend-long bender, a pattern of “blackout party girl” drinking that she believed absolved her of having a problem.

“I always thought an addict, an alcoholic was like daily. They drank in the morning, they drank like warm, cheap beer under a bridge,” Kori explained, highlighting a common misconception about alcoholism. “I was like a blackout party girl on the weekend, but my weekend was like Thursday to Sunday.”

This pattern of binge drinking, despite not being a daily habit, is a dangerous form of addiction that can cause significant physical and mental health issues. It’s a form of high-risk drinking that can lead to alcohol poisoning, accidents, and a host of long-term health problems.

Kori’s story is a powerful reminder that addiction doesn’t always fit the stereotypical mold. It can be a series of blackouts, a cycle of shame and denial, and a desperate attempt to escape from an inner world of pain and self-loathing. The chaotic lifestyle, losing her car, and the constant fear of what she had done the night before became her new normal.

4. The Rock Bottom: A Spiritual Breaking Point

The path to recovery often begins with a moment of profound crisis, a “rock bottom” where the illusion of control shatters completely. For Kori, this moment was not a single event but a slow, agonizing slide into a level of darkness she could no longer ignore. After a series of destructive relationships fueled by substance use, she found herself in a place of extreme anxiety, depression, and self-harm.

She had a moment of clarity while sitting in a bathtub, fully clothed and without water, where she swore off God. She believes this moment opened a “portal of darkness” that led to a period of severe spiritual and emotional turmoil.

The final descent into recovery came after a period of self-harm and insomnia. She decided to do a “cleanse” from alcohol, a final attempt to regain control. After a brief period of sobriety, she tried to reintroduce alcohol into her life, only to find the darkness returning with a vengeance. She had hit her breaking point.

5. Surrender and the Daily Practice of Recovery

The journey to recovery for Kori was a painful process of surrender. It wasn’t just about giving up alcohol but about surrendering the false narrative she had lived by for so long. She had to face the difficult truth that her life was unmanageable and that she was powerless over her addiction. This admission, she says, was the first step toward true freedom.

She emphasizes that recovery is not a one-time event but a daily practice. It’s about “playing the tape through,” considering the long-term consequences of her actions instead of seeking instant gratification. This is a core principle of 12-step programs, which emphasize the importance of making amends, seeking a spiritual connection, and helping others. For Kori, this meant embracing a life of purpose and faith after a lifetime of feeling disconnected.

“The flip side of recovery is so good,” Kori said, challenging the common misconception that sobriety is a “killjoy” of all fun. “It’s not just a bit better; it’s an entirely different existence.”

Her story is a powerful testament to the idea that recovery is not just about abstaining from a substance but about building a new life, one of meaning, purpose, and genuine connection.

6. The Long Road to Healing: Shame and Forgiveness

Even after achieving sobriety, Kori had to confront the immense shame she carried from her past. The memories of her blackout nights, the lost car, and the destructive behaviors were not erased by her new way of life. She had to work through the shame and forgive herself for the person she was.

“There’s a lot of shame,” Kori admitted. “I’m not gonna come out and tell people…my best-laid plan is like, oh, I’ll kill myself if this doesn’t work out.”

The shame associated with addiction can be a major barrier to seeking help and maintaining recovery. It keeps individuals isolated and unable to share their struggles. For Kori, it took years of therapy and recovery work to process the shame and understand that her destructive behavior was a symptom of a deeper problem.

The journey to self-forgiveness is an essential part of the recovery process. It involves acknowledging the past without judgment and accepting that addiction is a disease, not a moral failing.

7. The Role of Faith and a Higher Power

A central theme in Kori’s story is her evolving relationship with a higher power. After years of hating God for the trauma she endured, she found a spiritual connection through recovery. She had to learn to trust again, not just herself but a force greater than her own will.

“I hated God, and I didn’t trust God,” she said, recounting her childhood rage. However, when she was at her lowest point, she “prayed to a God that I didn’t believe in,” which led her to a therapist and, eventually, the path of recovery.

This spiritual journey is a core component of many recovery programs. It’s not about embracing a specific religion but about finding a power greater than oneself to help overcome addiction. For Kori, this meant learning that life is not happening to her but is a neutral experience that she can navigate with faith and trust.

8. A New Purpose: Helping Others in Recovery

Today, Kori uses her story and her platform to help others. As a writer, recovery mentor, and podcast host, she shares her experiences to inspire hope and show others that a life in recovery is not only possible but incredibly fulfilling. Her podcast, The Kori Leigh Show, is a space where she continues to explore the themes of healing, faith, and purpose.

The act of helping others is a powerful tool for maintaining recovery. It allows individuals to turn their past pain into a source of strength and meaning. It’s a way of making amends for the past and contributing to the well-being of others.

The journey from a “blackout party girl” to a recovery advocate is a testament to the transformative power of a 12-step program and the courage to face one’s deepest fears. Kori’s story is a beacon of hope for anyone struggling with addiction, proving that a life of chaos can be replaced with one of grace, purpose, and genuine connection.

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A Survivor’s Guide to Mental Health: Imani’s 10+ Tools for Navigating Depression, Anxiety, and PTSD

Living with a mental health condition can often feel like an isolating and overwhelming journey. We hear stories about people managing conditions like depression and anxiety, but rarely do we get to hear an honest, in-depth account of the day-to-day realities—the struggles, the breakthroughs, and the slow, often painful process of building a life of purpose.

In a recent episode of the Giving Voice to Mental Health Podcast, a production of Recovery.com, Imani shares her powerful story of living with and managing complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD), anxiety, and depression. Diagnosed at a young age, Imani navigated years of misdiagnosis, provider trauma, and a deeply entrenched sense of hopelessness. Her journey from chronic suicidal ideation and isolation to finding purpose and becoming a peer support specialist offers a roadmap for others struggling to find their way.

Imani’s story shows that recovery isn’t a linear path and that there is no single right way to heal. She found her own way by collecting a personal toolkit of strategies—from professional therapy and peer support to smaller, internal practices—that helped her move forward, one small step at a time. This article dives into the key lessons from her journey, providing actionable advice for anyone seeking to build their own path toward mental wellness.

1. Understanding Complex PTSD and Its Impact

When we think of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), our minds often go to images of soldiers or survivors of a single catastrophic event. However, as Imani explains, a different form of this condition, complex PTSD (C-PTSD), arises from repeated, prolonged exposure to trauma, often beginning in childhood. Imani describes C-PTSD as the result of “small traumas that happen in your life that can kind of compound as you have more and more trauma, and you don’t have the tools to react to it.” These ongoing traumatic experiences, particularly those that happen within a person’s family of origin, can lead to a state of chronic unsafety.

Unlike single-incident trauma, C-PTSD often stems from developmental or generational trauma passed down through families. It can lead to a wide range of symptoms, including difficulty regulating emotions, dissociative episodes, and a persistent negative self-perception. Imani’s experience highlights how a lack of healthy coping mechanisms in childhood can set the stage for these conditions later in life. She explains that her reactions to her childhood experiences, without the proper tools to cope, were misinterpreted by professionals, leading to a misdiagnosis of borderline personality disorder. This mislabeling not only complicated her healing process but also exposed her to a kind of “provider trauma” that made it difficult to trust mental health professionals in the future.

Explore treatment options for PTSD.

2. Recognizing the Physical and Emotional Manifestations of Anxiety

Imani’s experience with anxiety started young, and she learned to recognize its physical and emotional signs. For her, anxiety manifests as a burning sensation in her chest, elevated blood pressure, and a tendency to overthink and get stuck in “a thought loop.” She notes that these physical sensations can overlap with her C-PTSD symptoms, and she manages them using grounding techniques. “Often with PTSD, you have to do some grounding,” Imani states. “You have to remind yourself that you’re here right now, you’re fine.”

The practice of grounding is a powerful tool for interrupting the physical symptoms of anxiety. By focusing on the present moment and engaging your senses, you can pull yourself out of a spiral of anxious thoughts. For example, you can try the 5-4-3-2-1 method: name five things you can see, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. This technique helps to anchor you in the present, reducing the intensity of anxiety and preventing a full-blown panic response.

Anxiety can also lead to emotional and social challenges, such as a desire to avoid eye contact or withdraw from social situations. Learning to identify these physical and behavioral cues is the first step toward developing effective coping strategies. With years of therapy, Imani has ingrained these tools so deeply that she now uses them instinctively.

Explore anxiety treatment centers.

3. Fighting the “Big Bad Wolf” of Depression

For Imani, depression was the most prominent and challenging of her diagnoses. It “stripped me of my goals and my ability to think ahead.” She describes a period of immense inadequacy and isolation in her early twenties, where she felt afraid to work and lived with chronic suicidal ideation for years. The culture she grew up in dismissed her feelings, telling her she was “too young to be depressed,” a common and harmful misconception.

Imani’s story offers a unique perspective on managing suicidal thoughts. She explains that by giving herself permission to have those thoughts, acknowledging them as an option, she was able to create a psychological distance from them. “I told myself, I may not kill myself, but I’m gonna allow myself to have these thoughts, and I worked through that.” This radical acceptance allowed her to stop fighting the thoughts and, paradoxically, to move forward. The distance between the thoughts grew, and she began to live her life in small increments, which eventually built into a more purposeful existence.

This experience highlights the importance of not suppressing difficult emotions. While professional help is essential for anyone with suicidal ideation, Imani’s approach of radical acceptance allowed her to reclaim a sense of agency over her life. By acknowledging the presence of the thoughts without acting on them, she was able to start building a future for herself.

Explore depression treatment options.

4. The Power of Peer Support and Shared Experience

Imani’s turning point came when she discovered peer support, a model of care that connects individuals with mental health challenges to people who have lived through similar experiences. “Peer support gave me hope,” she shares. She explains that peer support isn’t about one person “trauma-dumping” on another, but rather “about seeing each other as people that have things going on that have something that happened to you rather than you are a problem.”

This relational approach stands in stark contrast to the medical model of care she had experienced, which often focused on what was “wrong” with her. Peer support specialists use their lived experience as a tool to build a connection and walk alongside individuals on their recovery journey. Imani found immense meaning in her own suffering by becoming a peer specialist herself, helping others navigate the same challenges she faced.

A growing body of research supports the effectiveness of peer support. These specialists provide a unique blend of practical advice, emotional support, and the validation of someone who truly understands.

5. Therapy as a Tool, Not a Punishment

Both Imani and Terry, the podcast host, share the belief that therapy is a valuable tool for everyone, not just those with a diagnosed mental illness. Imani sees therapy as a place to “lay out the things I’ve been thinking about, things that I’ve not worked through from my past, my childhood, and things that are happening right now.” The value lies in having an objective person to talk to, someone who can provide a safe space for processing thoughts and emotions.

For Imani, therapy became a way to reaffirm her own inner strength. “It gives me peace,” she says, “that actually, I have everything I need, you know? And so the therapist just reinforces that.” Therapy isn’t about being told what to do but about gaining the clarity and confidence to make your own decisions. It can be used proactively to prepare for difficult life events, as Terry did before her mother’s passing. This approach turns therapy into a powerful form of self-care and preparation, rather than a last resort.

6. The Healing Power of Self-Compassion and Grace

One of the most profound lessons from Imani’s story is the importance of self-compassion and grace. She explains that it’s impossible to get better if you are constantly “punching yourself in the face.” Her journey involved a slow but deliberate shift from self-hatred to self-love. She started by catching herself when she would say “I hate myself” and eventually replaced that phrase with “I love myself,” even when she didn’t believe it.

This practice of radical self-acceptance is a powerful form of cognitive behavioral therapy. By changing the internal narrative, you can begin to rewire your brain’s emotional responses. As Imani’s journey shows, this isn’t an overnight process, but a slow, consistent practice that builds momentum over time.

7. Small Steps to Build Momentum

When you are in a state of depression or shutdown, the idea of doing anything productive can feel impossible. Imani offers a practical and realistic solution: break down tasks into tiny, manageable steps. She started by giving herself five minutes a day to do something, anything, like cleaning up a small area or just sitting in the same room as her family. This practice, often referred to as behavioral activation, is a cornerstone of cognitive behavioral therapy for depression. The goal is not to complete a big task but to simply get started and build a sense of momentum and accomplishment.

This “five-minute rule” helped Imani slowly build her courage back up, transforming her from a person who was ashamed and isolated to someone who had a career and a community. The small wins created a positive feedback loop, motivating her to take on bigger challenges.

8. Setting Healthy Boundaries

Boundaries are a crucial, yet often overlooked, tool for mental health. Imani’s story highlights how a lack of boundaries can lead to burnout and strained relationships. She wishes someone had taught her how to set boundaries earlier in life so she could have protected herself and her relationships.

Setting boundaries isn’t about being selfish or uncaring. In fact, Imani calls it a “compassionate” act. It is a way to respect your own capacity and protect your mental well-being. By setting clear boundaries with her clients, Imani found that she was not only protecting herself but also teaching them a valuable life skill. She learned that saying “no” doesn’t mean “I don’t like you,” but “I’m at capacity.” This simple reframing can change your perspective on self-care, turning it from a luxury into a necessity.

9. Finding Purpose Through Lived Experience

Ultimately, Imani’s story is one of transformation through purpose. She turned her “suffering” into a service that could help others. She found that her darkest experiences gave her a unique ability to connect with and empower others who were struggling. This sense of purpose became a protective factor, keeping her from shutting down and regressing into old patterns.

“What I’ve found is as I built momentum, it just made me wanna do more,” she says. Her work as a peer support specialist not only gave her a career but also gave meaning to her journey. This idea is supported by research showing that altruistic acts, like helping others, can improve a person’s mental health and sense of well-being.

10. You Are Not Your Diagnosis

Through her journey, Imani learned that her diagnoses of C-PTSD, anxiety, and depression “mean this much in my life.” She realized that she had been a strong person all along, but she hadn’t had the tools to act on it. Her journey was about rediscovering her inner strength and knowing that, with support, she could navigate any challenge.

Imani’s story is a testament to the fact that while a diagnosis can explain your symptoms, it does not define your future. You can use your struggles as fuel to build a life of purpose and pride. With the right tools and a supportive community, you can find the courage to move forward, one small step at a time.

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Parker Schley’s Road to Recovery: 7+ Ways to Find Your Own Path to Sobriety

The road to recovery is rarely a straight line. For Parker Schley, the journey was a decade-long cycle of blackouts, arrests, and tarnished relationships before he found the courage to seek help. In a candid conversation on the Recoverycast podcast, Parker opens up about his struggles with alcohol, the moment he decided to make a change, and the life-altering experience of finding sobriety. His story is a powerful reminder that addiction doesn’t discriminate and that a new life is possible, no matter how bleak things may seem.

1. The Cliché That Isn’t: You Are Not Alone

Parker’s journey began with a realization that many people in the early stages of addiction face: the feeling of isolation. He found himself silently following recovery accounts on social media, looking for a glimmer of hope that he wasn’t the only one struggling. This quiet search for community was the first step toward self-acceptance.

“I think one thing that I would hope people gain from my story is that, and it’s gonna sound so cliché, you’re not alone,” Parker shares. “Before I chose to get sober, I did the whole like silent following of a ton of people just scrolling through like, ‘Wait, maybe I do have a problem with drinking.’ I would follow people that would post about their recovery journeys. And I did realize, okay, you don’t have to be 50 plus to be an alcoholic… Alcoholism doesn’t discriminate and it can really hit anyone.”

He highlights the fact that addiction can affect anyone, regardless of age, background, or social status. By sharing his story, he hopes to break the stereotype of what an alcoholic looks like and encourage others, especially those in their twenties, to seek help. This sense of community and shared experience is a cornerstone of many recovery programs, including the 12-step program Parker is now a part of. The realization that he wasn’t a “failure of a human being” but rather a person with a disease was a transformative moment that allowed him to let go of the shame and begin his healing process.

2. Seeking a Sense of Belonging

Parker’s relationship with alcohol began at a pivotal and vulnerable time in his life. After moving from Colorado to the East Coast in high school, he found himself without friends and grappling with feelings of depression. This sense of isolation led him to seek validation and acceptance, which he initially found through alcohol.

“I felt seen,” he explains. “Like instead of being that weirdo who just moved from Colorado and didn’t have any friends, people knew who I was, people were talking about me.”

For Parker, alcohol was a tool to numb the pain of loneliness and gain social acceptance. The negative attention he received after blacking out at a party didn’t matter because it meant people were finally talking about him. This experience set him on a dangerous path, where alcohol became a crutch for social situations and a way to avoid dealing with his emotions. This is a common pattern for many people who struggle with addiction. The substance becomes a way to cope with feelings of inadequacy or anxiety, creating a cycle where the person relies on the substance to feel “normal” or accepted.

Explore alcohol addiction treatment options.

3. The High School Graduation Arrest

A pivotal moment in Parker’s life occurred on the night of his high school graduation. What should have been a celebratory milestone turned into a night spent in jail after he was arrested for getting drunk and disorderly. This event, he says, marked a turning point in his drinking, escalating it from a “touchy relationship” to a full-blown problem. Despite the severity of the situation, Parker initially blamed his circumstances on bad luck rather than his actions.

He carried this mindset through college, where his “bad luck” continued to escalate. He was put on academic probation, discovered drugs, and had multiple hospital visits. Despite the mounting evidence that his drinking was out of control, he remained in denial, telling himself that other people were doing the same things and that he just had an unfortunate series of events. This is a classic example of rationalization, a defense mechanism where a person justifies their behavior to avoid confronting the reality of their addiction.

Parker’s definition of a “bad thing” was a unique one. While many would consider repeated hospital visits and near-death experiences to be a wake-up call, for him, the true wake-up call was legal trouble. The threat of jail time and the inconvenience of court proceedings were what truly shook him.

“I would say courts, cops, and cops,” he says. “Legal trouble was my definition of bad things. ‘Cause even though I was borderline probably almost killing myself, I was like, ‘I’m only affecting me.’ But if it was a legal situation, I was like, ‘Okay, well, this could affect my job, this could affect my future.'”

This perspective highlights the insidious nature of addiction. It can warp a person’s perception of what is truly harmful. Parker was able to convince himself that his physical health was a secondary concern, but the potential consequences of legal issues were a stark and unavoidable reality. This is a pattern of denial where a person continues to push the boundaries of their addiction, setting the bar for what constitutes a problem lower and lower.

5. Breaking the Cycle: The Moment of Truth

The moment Parker decided to seek help wasn’t a dramatic rock bottom, but a simple realization that he was “sick and tired of being sick and tired.” The constant cycle of drinking, legal trouble, and emotional turmoil had finally worn him down. He made the decision to call a treatment center on his own, without any external pressure.

He shares this powerful quote about the moment he made the call: “I was like, ‘You know what? F*** it. I’ve been arrested like five times, gone the hospital like four times, tarnished all my relationships. We’ve got about no friends left. Let’s go to rehab.'”

He called an addiction treatment center and was surprised to learn they had an opening in just two days. This unexpected immediacy forced him to confront his true intentions. He had made the call as a cathartic gesture, a way to make himself feel better without having to follow through. But when faced with the real possibility of getting help, he had to make a choice: continue the destructive cycle or finally break free. This moment of decision, fueled by a genuine desire for change, was the catalyst for his recovery. His family, who had been struggling to cope with his addiction for years, were overjoyed by his decision. Parker’s father, who had been at a breaking point with their relationship, was “so happy” to hear his son was finally seeking help.

6. The Best 28 Days of His Life

Parker’s time at the treatment center was not what he expected. Instead of a difficult and painful experience, he describes it as “the best 28 days of my life.” The reason, he says, is simple: he was finally ready to get sober. Unlike previous attempts at therapy or court-mandated programs, this time was for him. He was able to fully lean into the process and focus on his own well-being.

“I think the biggest thing that I realized, and I think I got so much out of rehab, was because I was ready to get sober,” Parker says. “A lot of my dad has asked me multiple times between probably the ages of 17 to 25 when I went to rehab, ‘Do you want to go to rehab? Do you wanna go to some sort of like counseling?’… But this one I was like, ‘I’m doing this for me.'”

This is a critical point in recovery. True healing can only begin when a person is willing to do the work for themselves, not for others. The treatment center provided him with a safe space to focus on self-care, a concept that was foreign to him. He discovered a new side of himself, one that was not defined by alcohol. He found joy in journaling, connecting with others his age, and rediscovering what it meant to live a sober life.

7. Redefining Fun and Finding New Hobbies

One of the biggest challenges Parker faced in recovery was redefining what “fun” meant. For a decade, his life revolved around binge drinking. Every social activity, from hiking to going to the pool, was centered around alcohol. The idea of doing these things sober was a foreign concept.

He shares a moment of self-reflection from his drinking days: “I remember I would just sit there one time, I was all excited about like going to the pool and just ripping Coors Lights all day. And then I took a step back and was like, ‘This isn’t that fun.’ I’m just sitting here like, feel fat, have to pee every second and I’m just texting a bunch of guys that I probably shouldn’t be… you kind of have a sad life, Parker.”

In recovery, he’s learning to find joy in things he once thought were only enjoyable with alcohol. While some activities, like sitting by the pool, are still a challenge without drinking, he’s giving himself the grace to discover what he truly enjoys. He’s exploring new hobbies and reconnecting with his passions, a process he likens to peeling back layers that were once “covered in tequila and vodka.”

8. Finding Your Recovery Community

Parker’s story is a powerful testament to the importance of community and self-acceptance in recovery. He found solace in a group of guys his age at the treatment center, and they continue to be a source of support in his sobriety. This sense of belonging, which he initially sought through alcohol, is now a genuine and healthy part of his life.

His story is an inspiration for anyone who feels lost, isolated, or trapped in a cycle of addiction. It is a reminder that you are not alone, that help is available, and that a new and fulfilling life is waiting for you on the other side of recovery.

If you or someone you know is struggling with addiction, remember that help is just a phone call or a click away. You can find resources and support at Recovery.com.

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The Hope Dealer: 5 Life-Changing Lessons from Fausto Castellanos on Trauma and Recovery

The journey to healing is rarely a straight line. For Fausto Castellanos, a clinical counselor and recovery advocate known as “The Hope Dealer,” it was a long and winding road filled with pain, self-blame, and a desperate search for validation. His story, shared on the Recoverycast podcast, is a powerful testament to the idea that our most difficult experiences don’t have to define our future. Instead, they can become the very foundation of our purpose.

From a young age, Castellanos felt a deep sense of unease and a need to be accepted. He recalled, “I always thought that I was less than everyone, so I would always look at like, you know, any older boy for like, um, validation or or direction.” This feeling, rooted in a childhood environment with a narcissistic father and a codependent mother, led him to constantly seek external validation. He would imitate others, chasing a “performance self-worth” that would momentarily mask his internal struggles. This desperate need for acceptance would ultimately lead him down a path of self-destructive behaviors, a journey he now uses to help others find their way back to a place of hope and healing.

1. The Mask of Performance and the Search for Validation

Growing up, Fausto Castellanos learned to be a “chameleon,” constantly adapting his personality to fit in and be liked. This behavior was a direct result of a traumatic experience at age seven, where he was sexually abused by an older boy. He didn’t process it as abuse at the time, but as a young child, he internalized the subsequent cruelty from his abuser as a sign that he had done something wrong. This trauma, combined with an already anxious disposition, led to a deep-seated belief that something was inherently wrong with him.

In a desperate attempt to fix this perceived brokenness, he began to seek out risky behaviors. “That show Jackass came out… and I was like, that’s what I gotta do to fix this. Oh my gosh. I gotta jump off buildings. Just doing all these dares and stuff like that. And again, just trying to seek that, that, that, that, um, my fix validation.” His actions were a cry for help, a way to prove his worth and distract himself from the gnawing pain inside. This pattern of seeking validation through extreme and self-sabotaging acts would continue for years, culminating in a series of shocking events.

Explore trauma treatment options.

2. A Desperate Attempt to Escape: Faking His Own Death

By ninth grade, the pressure of his internal turmoil became unbearable. Castellanos found a new way to cope: skipping school. He would feign illness, often using a history of epilepsy from a childhood concussion to manipulate his mother into letting him stay home. This temporary escape, however, was not enough. He was still haunted by the fear that everyone at school knew his secret. It was at this point that he came up with a “bright idea to fake my own death.”

Using his skills in videography, he created a video of a car crash he found online, superimposed a childhood picture of himself, and added emotional music from the band Incubus. The plan, however, was a disaster. “People show up to my house to give my mom condolences and they see I’m, I’m the one opening the door.” The failed attempt at faking his death led to even more desperate measures.

In a misguided attempt to get more time off from school, he told his teacher he was “hearing voices to hurt people.” This lie backfired spectacularly, leading to a 5150 hold—a mandatory 72-hour psychiatric detention in San Diego. His stay was extended to seven days after he resisted the diagnosis, and he was forced to “pretend I was schizophrenic” just to get out. The experience, while terrifying, became another twisted form of validation. He felt a strange sense of belonging, a feeling of being seen, even if it was for a fabricated identity. This desire to be seen, no matter the cost, became a driving force in his life.

3. Finding “Comfort” in Alcohol and Drugs

After his release from the psychiatric hospital, Castellanos was granted his wish to do home studies. He was safe, alone, and free from the social pressures of school. But without a structured environment, his pursuit of external validation found a new and dangerous outlet: alcohol and drugs. At 14, he and a friend stole a bottle of whiskey. The first time the alcohol’s buzz kicked in, he had a revelation. “It was the first time in my life I can remember feeling comfortable. Feeling connected, feeling grounded, feeling seen, feeling safe.”

For a young man who had been battling anxiety and suicidal thoughts for years, alcohol was not a poison but a perceived cure. He came to believe that if he hadn’t found alcohol and drugs, he “would’ve killed myself a long time ago.” This belief became the foundation of a life of addiction. He transitioned from alcohol to ecstasy, a drug he had manifested after seeing a YouTube video of people dancing at a rave. He quickly developed a connection to a dealer, a neighbor who would later molest him for six months. This second traumatic experience, made all the more confusing by the disinhibiting effects of methamphetamines, reinforced his belief that his own actions were to blame.

4. The Vicious Cycle of Addiction, Breakups, and Despair

From the ages of 14 to 18, Castellanos’s life was a cycle of avoidance and self-destruction. He became the “party guy,” a role that gave him a false sense of purpose and belonging. “I played that character and I played that character really well.” He was the one who could get alcohol and drugs, the one with the “cool mom” who would let everyone stay over. This performance, however, couldn’t mask his growing addiction. He experienced blackouts, fights, and near-misses with the law. His underlying trauma continued to haunt him, and he continued to seek external validation, especially through romantic relationships.

At 17, he fell in love, convinced that this relationship would “fix” him. But his codependent nature led to a devastating overdose on 17 ecstasy pills after a party. He woke up in the hospital, handcuffed to a bed, his face bloody from a fall. Even in this moment of crisis, his first thought was to manipulate his way out of trouble, blaming the police for his injuries and demanding pain pills. Less than 24 hours after leaving the hospital, he overdosed again.

This pattern of using relationships as a crutch and self-destruction as a coping mechanism continued into his early twenties. He sought refuge in a high-profile bartending job, a role that fed his need for attention and validation. Yet, even as the “it dude,” his addiction spiraled out of control. Another failed relationship at 21 sent him to his rock bottom, a suicide attempt. It was this moment that forced him to confront the truth: his past trauma was still controlling his present, and his addiction was only making things worse.

5. The Path to Recovery and a New Purpose

Fausto Castellanos’s story is a powerful reminder that the desire to heal must come from within. While external sources of validation, like relationships or social status, may offer temporary relief, they cannot solve the underlying issues of trauma and self-worth. His journey highlights the importance of vulnerability in recovery, a theme he emphasizes throughout the podcast. “Vulnerability will save your life to know that there is people out there that are going through what you’re going through, and there is people who are willing to help you. You just gotta let people know what’s going on inside of you, because if you don’t reveal it, then you can’t heal it.”

His story, once a source of shame, has become a tool for advocacy. By sharing his experiences, he gives others permission to be vulnerable and seek help. His work as a clinical counselor and “hope dealer” is a testament to the power of turning pain into purpose. He now uses his past not as a burden but as a beacon, illuminating a path for others struggling with addiction and trauma. The long road of emotional recovery may be difficult, but as Castellanos’s story shows, it is possible to transform a life of self-destruction into a mission of healing and hope.

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Meg Kissinger’s 5+ Ways to Navigate Mental Illness in Your Family

The topic of mental illness has long been shrouded in silence, a hushed secret passed down through generations. Yet, as awareness grows and conversations open up, more and more individuals are realizing the profound impact mental health struggles have had on their families. Meg Kissinger, a Pulitzer Prize finalist reporter and author, offers a powerfully unique perspective on this often-taboo subject. Drawing from her own lived experience growing up in a family profoundly affected by mental illness, including the loss of two siblings to suicide, Kissinger provides invaluable insights into breaking the cycle of shame and fostering healing.

“There’s no shame in having mental illness of any kind, depression, anxiety, whatever it is. There’s no shame in that. It’s how you’re made and just that you would not be ashamed of cancer or diabetes. This is how we’re made and this is who we are and, and that’s okay. And it’s just a little piece of who we are,” emphasizes Kissinger, setting the tone for a candid and compassionate discussion about embracing vulnerability and seeking understanding.

1. Reframe Stigma as Discrimination: A Call for Dignity and Humanity

For too long, the term “stigma” has been used to describe the societal prejudice against individuals with mental illness. However, Kissinger, borrowing from the insights of Thomas Insel, former director of the National Institute of Mental Health, advocates for a crucial reframe: stigma is discrimination. This shift in terminology is not merely semantic; it fundamentally alters the focus from an internal failing to an external injustice.

“What stigma, you know, comes from the word stigmata… which literally means the markings of Christ. So marks on your hands and feet and head. And the suggestion is very subtle, but the suggestion is: people living with mental illness are marked,” Kissinger explains. “But I think where you, where you can kind of really get people to change the way they think about those folks is when you calibrate that view into discrimination. And so which ways do we deny people their full dignity and their, their full humanity? And then that really focuses, that shifts the spotlight then on the people who are doing that injustice.”

When we view the issue through the lens of discrimination, it becomes clear that the burden lies not with the individual experiencing mental illness, but with a society that denies them equal rights, opportunities, and compassion. This denial manifests in systemic ways, from inadequate housing and employment opportunities to the insistence that individuals “prove their worth” to receive care and support. By recognizing mental illness as an illness, rather than a character flaw or moral failing, we can begin to dismantle discriminatory practices and advocate for a more equitable and supportive system. This reframe empowers us to challenge the status quo and demand better treatment for those who are suffering.

2. Acknowledge and Address Generational Silence

Growing up in a large Irish Catholic family in an era where mental health was rarely, if ever, discussed, Kissinger experienced firsthand the pervasive silence surrounding mental illness. Her mother struggled with undiagnosed depression and anxiety, and her father with what is now recognized as bipolar disorder. These conditions, along with others, affected many of her eight siblings, leading to a profound impact on the family, including two suicides.

“My mother struggled with depression and anxiety. Of course, we didn’t know those were words that were never spoken in our house,” Kissinger recalls. “And we were never like sat down and told that. It’s just what we observed. So it took a long time to kind of sis out like what, or you know, what’s going on. And why is it when I come bounding down the stairs, you know, when I’m six years old looking for cream of wheat, it’s my grandmother at the stove and not my mother because she is mysteriously gone and they won’t tell me where she is or why. Then your, of course, your imagination runs wild and you think, what did I do to make my mother go away?”

This unspoken reality created an environment where confusion and self-blame often thrived. The lack of open communication and readily available information meant that the Kissinger children had no framework for understanding what was happening within their own home. This is a common experience for many families where mental illness is an unacknowledged presence. The absence of labels and conversations can lead to profound isolation and a distorted perception of “normal.”

To break this cycle, it’s crucial to acknowledge the impact of generational silence. Understanding that past generations may not have had the language, resources, or societal acceptance to discuss mental illness openly is an important first step. For families navigating similar legacies, initiating conversations, even if difficult, can be profoundly healing. This doesn’t necessarily mean public declarations, but rather creating a safe space within the family for honest dialogue and shared understanding.

3. The Power of Storytelling: Finding Healing in Narrative

Kissinger’s journey to understanding and healing involved writing a book that unflinchingly explored her family’s experiences with mental illness. This was not an easy undertaking, especially given the entrenched family silence. Yet, her siblings not only supported her endeavor but also provided access to personal records and insights, a testament to the transformative power of shared storytelling.

“It was imperative to me that I have their buy-in,” Kissinger states, highlighting the importance of family collaboration in her narrative. “It was important for me to have their approval. At the same time, this wasn’t gonna be a memoir by committee… It had to have the narrative arc and the My voice… But God bless my brothers and sisters and they, I am so grateful to them for being my fact checkers… they were very, very encouraging and. It was to me, nothing short of heroic for them to have the trust in me that I was gonna tell this story the way it needed to be told.”

The act of telling her family’s story, with their collective support, became a vehicle for processing trauma, finding perspective, and ultimately, healing. This illustrates that while not everyone needs to write a book, finding ways to articulate and share one’s experiences can be incredibly cathartic. This could involve:

  • Journaling: A private space to explore thoughts and emotions.
  • Support Groups: Connecting with others who have similar experiences can validate feelings and reduce isolation.
  • Therapy: A trained professional can provide a safe and confidential environment to process complex emotions and develop coping mechanisms.
  • Creative Expression: Art, music, or other creative outlets can offer a non-verbal means of expressing difficult experiences.

The goal is not necessarily public disclosure, but rather finding a healthy outlet to process and integrate one’s experiences with mental illness, both personally and within the family context. When we bravely share our narratives, we not only heal ourselves but also create pathways for others to feel less alone in their struggles.

4. Navigating Grief, Guilt, and Unexpected Relief After Suicide Loss

The death of a loved one by suicide brings a unique and often overwhelming constellation of emotions, including profound sadness, anger, shame, and guilt. Kissinger speaks candidly about the experience of losing two siblings to suicide, and in doing so, sheds light on a rarely acknowledged aspect of suicide grief: relief.

When her sister Nancy died by suicide after years of severe mental illness and multiple attempts, Kissinger and her family experienced a complicated mix of emotions. “When she finally did die, in June of 1978. It was a shock, but not a surprise,” she recounts. “And that night my dad gathered us all into the living room and, you know, looked at us sternly and said, if anybody asks, this was an accident. Which of course is a scary thing to hear. And the takeaway is that this is something to be ashamed of.”

Despite the profound sorrow and the societal pressure to conceal the truth, Kissinger admits to feeling a sense of relief alongside her grief. “There can be relief. Yeah. People need to hear that. Oh, absolutely,” she states. “And you know, I think that’s true of a lot of deaths, especially deaths where that, where the illness has gone on and on and on… it was a terrible sorrow. Of course. But it was also a great relief. I felt guilty that I felt such relief. But no, and you know, looking back on it so many years later. It’s a completely normal response and, um, why wouldn’t I, you know, she was out of her misery and we were out of ours. There’s a big sense of relief that came with that.”

This raw honesty is crucial for suicide loss survivors who may experience similar feelings but feel immense shame or guilt for them. It’s important to understand that feeling relief does not diminish the love for the person lost or the depth of grief. Instead, it can be a natural response to the cessation of intense suffering—both the individual’s and the family’s prolonged vigil.

For those coping with suicide loss, it’s vital to:

  • Allow all emotions: There is no “right” way to grieve. Grief is a complex process, and feelings like anger, guilt, and even relief are valid.
  • Seek support: Connecting with other suicide loss survivors can provide a sense of understanding and reduce isolation. Organizations like the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (AFSP) offer resources and support groups specifically for those bereaved by suicide.
  • Challenge self-blame: Suicide is a complex issue with many contributing factors, and it is rarely the fault of family members.
  • Remember the person beyond their illness: While the illness was a part of their life, it did not define their entire being. Cherish memories of their good qualities and the joy they brought.

5. Cultivating Self-Love and Asking for Help

For individuals living with mental illness, and for those who support them, cultivating self-love and the courage to ask for help are paramount. Kissinger emphasizes that mental illness, particularly serious conditions like bipolar disorder or schizophrenia, can be a “lifetime saddle,” but it does not preclude a joyful and successful life.

“People with mental illness can have very good lives. And they can have joy and they can be loved and they can be successful. They can find success,” Kissinger asserts, challenging the notion that a diagnosis is a “death sentence.” She highlights her brother Jake, who lives in a group home for individuals with serious mental illness and “never apologizes for that. And he never flinches from talking about the struggles that he’s up against.” His openness and acceptance of himself serve as a powerful example.

For those struggling internally, Kissinger offers a simple yet profound piece of advice: acknowledge that mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. Once this foundational acceptance is in place, the path to healing becomes clearer.

“I think just to be, just to know yourself and to, it starts with really just acknowledging that mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. And once we get away from the shame of that and just accept who we are,” she advises. This internal shift can pave the way for seeking external support.

Learning to ask for help is a critical step. “People have such a hard time asking for help,” Kissinger notes, urging individuals to embrace humility and courage. Whether it’s confiding in a trusted friend, seeking professional therapy, or engaging with support groups, reaching out is a sign of strength, not weakness.

6. Supporting Loved Ones: Empathy, Boundaries, and Understanding

Supporting someone with a mental illness requires a delicate balance of empathy, understanding, and self-preservation. It’s not always easy to distinguish between a “stubborn personality” and the symptoms of an illness, as Kissinger points out. However, starting with the assumption that the person is hurting can guide compassionate responses.

Kissinger shares a poignant personal anecdote about her brother Danny, who confided in her that he “didn’t feel like being alive anymore.” Her initial, regrettable response was to punch him in the arm and tell him to “shut up.” This raw admission underscores the difficulty of navigating such conversations, especially when one is overwhelmed.

“I’m so sorry. And that’s, it’s understandable and that’s, it’s normal. A lot of people feel that way. I’m sorry. You’re going through that. You can get, you can come out on the other side. You’re, you’re gonna feel better. I’m here for you,” Kissinger reflects on what she would say now. This response prioritizes validation, hope, and support, recognizing the immense pain the individual is experiencing.

Furthermore, setting healthy boundaries is crucial to avoid burnout for caregivers. Kissinger quotes her brother Billy, who advises, “Acknowledge when it’s too much. Just learn that you have to sometimes walk away.” This doesn’t mean abandoning a loved one, but rather taking necessary breaks to recharge and maintain one’s own well-being. The love remains, but the ability to offer effective support depends on personal resilience.

Here are key takeaways for supporting a loved one with mental illness:

  • Educate yourself: Learn about the specific mental illness affecting your loved one. Understanding the symptoms and challenges can foster empathy and inform your approach.
  • Listen without judgment: Offer a compassionate ear and validate their feelings, even if you don’t fully understand them.
  • Encourage professional help: Gently suggest seeking therapy, medication, or other appropriate interventions. Offer to help them find resources or make appointments.
  • Practice self-care: Supporting a loved one can be emotionally draining. Prioritize your own mental and physical health to avoid burnout. This might involve setting boundaries, seeking your own therapy, or engaging in stress-reducing activities.
  • Remember it’s an illness, not a choice: Separate the person from their illness. Understand that their behaviors or moods may be symptoms, not intentional acts to hurt you.
  • Offer practical support: Depending on the situation, this could involve helping with daily tasks, transportation to appointments, or simply being a consistent, reliable presence.

Ultimately, navigating mental illness within families requires a commitment to open communication, empathy, and a willingness to challenge long-held societal norms. By reframing stigma as discrimination, acknowledging generational silence, embracing the power of storytelling, and cultivating both self-love and supportive relationships, families can move towards a future where mental health is discussed openly, understood deeply, and met with compassion and care.