2025 was a year. It did not start out saying that it was going to be bad. It didn’t even force bad things to happen that I have endured. I forced those bad things to happen by ignorant choices, harmful actions, and irreparable consequences.

I sit here wondering how the version of myself, that I knew, somehow disappeared. When did I let her go, and why did I let her go so easily? I grieve for the life I had before all of my horrible mistakes (which honestly started before 2025), and my tangible fear is that I will not survive this, and never get a chance to be better. To find that person I used to be, and bring her back to life.

I’ve second, third, thousandth chances, and yet, it seems as though all I do is choose – time and time again – to not take advantage of the grace being given to me.

I’ve lost many people because of this.

I’m afraid I’ll lose the few I have left, that my ‘luck’ has run up, and those I have hurt are too hurt to ever think it will be any different.

So, here I am, taking stock. I can only move forward. I can only make the right decisions now. I can only hold myself accountable. If I want to have a prayer of fixing what I have broken, it has to start now.

I just really, really hope that it is not too late.

I wake up. Brush my teeth. Do my hair and makeup. Leave for work. Stop at Starbucks. Finish driving to work. Work. Drive home. Resist the urge to indulge in my vices. Watch my comfort show. Cook dinner. Eat with family. Put my son to bed. Read. Go to sleep.

This may seem boring, but it is all I long for.

When you have an addiction, all of the ordinary, boring, cliche things that others go through day to day, seem so incredibly far from your life. So incredibly impossible to actually be involved in.

So many times failed to be part of it, because you let the demons win. You are a passenger in your own life, and you have forgotten how to get in the driver’s seat.

With addiction, you walk around with an invisible person on your back. Weighing you down till you get your fix. When you get your fix, it sits with you, reminding you how incredibly lucky you are to have them. How life would be so tragic if they were to leave. How functioning is no longer possible without them. No one loves them the way they love you.

Addiction doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a courtship that starts off respectful in distance and manner. It convinces you that you are special. That the outside world prefers you this way. You slowly, but powerfully, believe it, and long to spend more time in its arms. You don’t realize how hard it is hitting you until an outside being tells you that you aren’t the person you once were. You are thankful for that because the person you once were wasn’t who you wanted to be.

Maybe your mental health medications weren’t working well enough or fast enough to your liking. Maybe the supplement of your choice substance gave them the momentary push they needed to bring you an artificial peace, even for just a moment.

Things start to abruptly leave. No one ‘fades’ from your life, they actively show you they are leaving. You start to see that the functioning person you once were is now disregarding everything else for one more hit. One more drink.

You lose your job.

You have morphed into this creature that no longer sees themself in the mirror. You don’t know who you are, but your addiction holds tighter. One more hit and I’ll be normal. One more drink and I can make it through the morning.

You lose your freedom.

You think ‘this time I have hit rock bottom. I will change.” Your addiction blames the outside world for your actions and the consequences. Your addiction tells you that you know yourself, and it isn’t that bad.

You know it can always be worse.

It gets worse.

Your addiction becomes a weight growing, enlarging, festering under your skin. You wear long sleeves to hide it. You work on your smile in the mirror. You rehearse normal interactions so people will think that this shadow apart from your own, isn’t there. You stowaway your addiction until you are alone in the underworld it has given you. You shed the armor. You shed the lies. You shed the romance of being alive.

You do all of this. You give up all of it. You lose everything.

All for one more drink.

Hello there. My name is Bethany, and this is my new little corner of the internet. I’ve blogged before, with little to no success of keeping up with it, but I decided now is as good a time as any to try again. What’s different this time? In my 41 years of life on this planet, I have had my fair share of ups and downs, and this year has been one of the most up and down yet.

I will warn you, I am not an optimist. I am definitely a glass is empty person, and I don’t think much will change that. Yes, I have people and things I love, and they bring me joy, but the vast majority of my life is filled with consequences of my actions, that are not at all positive.

However, this blog is not one to be all doom and gloom and act like there is no hope, because I have to believe there is. Otherwise, what’s the point?

What is the point?

I’ve asked that of myself a lot, in that I have done so many detrimental things to myself, my friends, and especially my family. I am crawling out of the wreckage, a bit injured, but determined to be better. I owe that to the people still in my life.

So what do I hope to gain from this? I hope that my stories reach someone who may be going through the same thing and need someone – anyone – to understand. Even a complete stranger on the internet. I hope that my experiences bring some sort of collective on the internet that truly believes, it will get better. Sometimes it has to get worse first. Sometimes you run out of freebies and have to atone. Sometimes you have to lose everything to get your head on straight. I hope, obviously, that none of us have lost everything, but if you have, I’m hanging on by my chewed off fingernails with you.

So, I hope someone reads this, and I hope it gives you something.