When I started recovery, I thought my addiction began from the choices I made as an adult. But the deeper I went into the process, the more I realized that my story actually went back much further—into my childhood. Understanding that truth, in some ways, has really helped with my healing.
My Earlier Years and Trauma
During my early years, I faced dents—not really dents, but more like stains—of emotional neglect, instability, and not really feeling safe. I did not realize for quite some time that those moments really shaped me. When I came across the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study, it all came together in my mind: That early trauma actually ramped up the chance for addictions and mental health issues later on in life. Reading others’ experiences of childhood trauma and recovery helped me realize that I was not alone.
The Patterns I Carried
When I look back now, I can see how there was a substance-use connection with some of those early hurts:
– The substances became my way of numbing out from memories I could not even face.
– Whenever I felt invisible, I would use alcohol and other drugs to fill that emptiness.
– Chaos at home taught me that dysfunction was “normal,” until I came into recovery; then I learned differently.
– There are so many other people who have gone through what I have gone through, and I take comfort in reading about their journey on the Recovery section.
Not Everyone with a Tough Childhood Becomes Addicted
One thing I have learned from recovery is that trauma is a risk factor, but it is not a guarantee. Some people around me grew up with a rough childhood but never got into substances. The difference is probably in the protective factors: support, community, learning a healthy way to cope. I found mine with peer support and wellness practices.
Healing and Breaking the Cycle
Through therapy, attending meetings, and safe spaces like InTheRooms.com, I have been able to process my past. When I discovered the site, I found it an incredible feeling to be able to sign on from the comfort of my home and connect with online meetings and a global community.
On days when I was feeling down and isolated, joining an online meeting was a reminder that I was not alone in this war. Being able to share and listen has diminished my feelings of isolation and strengthened my capacity to put together new strategies and finally break old patterns.
Moving Forward with Hope
My childhood sculpted me but, it does not dictate my future. It is recovery that has given me the answer that healing is possible. Every day I stay sober is proof that no matter where we come from, we can choose to walk a different path forward. I carry hope now, and I share my story because someone else might need to hear it.
Editor’s Note: If you’re looking for more support, inspiration, or stories that speak to your recovery experience, we invite you to explore our Blogs & Articles section. Stay connected with the In The Rooms community on Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, and twitter for daily encouragement, real voices, and reminders that healing happens one moment at a time.
4 Comments
I also grew up in a home where alcohol and physical abuse was present and I think my childhood shake me into the person I am today I’m 67 years old into my second marriage that isn’t going well because of me I just don’t feel happy inside don’t feel content feel depressed trying to find my purpose in life, I guess
Dear Jeff,
Thank you so much for opening up and sharing that. I can truly feel the weight of what you’ve been through. Growing up in a home touched by alcohol and abuse leaves deep marks that often resurface later in life. It takes so much courage to even acknowledge that pain, let alone keep searching for healing and purpose after all these years.
Please know you’re not alone in feeling this way. Many of us on this journey have struggled with that same emptiness and desire for peace. Healing isn’t a straight path, but even your willingness to look within shows how strong you are — one small, kind step at a time. ❤️
In the rooms is great for what I needed it for with parole and its gotten me to say I’m an alcoholic even tho I feel like I’m just wanting to be labeled that to look cool yet I’m not and it is hard to say I’m an alcoholic without saying no and laughing saying ok yeah. Well I was extremely heavy with vodka at 13 along with the weed then later in life everything else under this moon and prison happened cuz my bipolar. My parents always was gone and hell yeah it was awesome but I needed them dude and it still hurts inside at 30 yet I feel afraid to be grown but I am grown and wise in all other ways but just always been scared with anxiety thinking imma never be able to have my shit independent and the sexual past I had lived caused my pain and disgust and suicidal thoughts and yeah that’s another story but let’s say if my grannies face wouldn’t of popped in my brain id be gone. Now I’m happy yet my woman finally left me after 10 years all cuz I relapsed from alcohol months ago even when I wasn’t being narcissistic and mean. Anyways I have lived one hell of a life as a kid and seen alot of disturbing shit and even got used to it but only if wasted and able to get something in return that would create joy and numb the pain of secrets that are having to be now hidden and my brain has to go black but being angry and hurting people I enjoyed and actually I’m not mean in life or narcissistic only when drunk ill never be able to make it alive cuz imma go to prison again or suicide finally. Fuck drinking and prostitution and disgusting family members that cause the main pain in alot of drunkards life
Dear Ashley,
Thank you for sharing your story. You’ve been through a lot, and it’s understandable that you tried to hide pain any way you could. It’s okay to feel unsure about labels. What matters is how alcohol affects your life and how you want to feel moving forward.
Growing up without support can make adulthood scary. You’re not weak for feeling that way. Relapse hurts, but it doesn’t erase all the progress you’ve made.
I’m glad you’re still here. You deserve peace, support, and healing. Keep reaching out. You’re not alone.