Healing from the inside out - finding strength beyond the bottle

As a Holistic Counsellor, I have witnessed the depths of despair and the triumph of healing over addiction. The following story is from my client, whom we will call Paul (real name withheld for privacy). After years of bullying at school, the workplace and subsequently seeking comfort with alcohol, Paul healed through faith. His story is one of resilience, hope, and transformation. It is a testament to the power of belief in something greater than ourselves. He shares it now in the hopes that others who feel lost may find their way back, just as he did.

It began in primary school, with cruel words and fistfights when words weren’t enough, and continued into high school. I thought adulthood would be different, but the bullying followed me into the workplace. The words were subtle reminders that I was never enough. I carried every word as if it were a weight.

So, I started drinking. I was 14 years old!

At first, alcohol was an escape. I wanted a distraction - a way to quiet the voices telling me I was worthless. It numbed the memories of fists and laughing at my expense. It was easy to access a beer or two because my dad was an alcoholic. But soon, it became more than an escape; it became the only way I knew how to exist. I drank when I was alone, drank when I was sad, drank to get through the day. The bottle became my best friend, my solution.

Until it wasn’t.  

One night, I woke up in my car on the side of the road, unsure of where I was or how I had gotten there. The realisation hit me hard. I was drowning in my addiction. I had lost control, and I knew that if I didn’t change, I wouldn’t survive or, worse still, harm someone else because of my poor choices.  The shame that night was heavy; I felt like I couldn't see anymore.

I tried most things from psychologists, rehab and even an Ayahuasca ceremony in Peru, but nothing filled the emptiness inside me. I needed something bigger, something stronger than the pain and shame I carried.  

That’s when I found God.

I had never been religious. If anything, I resented the idea of God, believing that if God existed, he abandoned me long ago. But I was desperate. So, I walked into a church, broken and ashamed, expecting judgment. Instead, I found something else.  

For the first time in a long time, I prayed. I picked up the bible sitting on the seat and randomly opened to a page - Isaiah 46:4 -

"Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you."

I read this passage over and over as I sat in that church. I went from anger, rage, sadness, revelation and back again. I felt every word and cried. I have never cried like that - I spent my life holding back tears to be 'tough' to survive.

Then I turned to another page, Psalm 23:1-6 that reads -

"The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

I cried some more. I felt heard in that church for a reason I cannot understand. Something opened up in me that was closed by alcohol.

I decided to attend Sunday mass and commit to it. I spoke to the priest on that first visit, and I shared my story briefly, feeling his unwavering kindness, which helped me believe in myself when I couldn’t in that moment. I could hear the shame in my voice and feel my body ache from the weight of it, but I kept speaking, I kept sharing.

Through weekly counselling sessions and church services, I learned that I was not my past, not my scars, not the cruel words others had thrown at me. I was loved. I was seen. I was worth saving.  

I want to say here before I sign off that faith alone didn’t erase my struggles, but it gave me the strength to overcome them. It freed me from the weight of addiction and taught me that even in my darkest moments, I was never alone.  

If you’re struggling with a past that feels heavy, know this: hope exists! Faith can be what guides you, just as it did for me.  

It’s never too late to change. Never too late to start again. 

From the Counsellor's Chair.... much love and gratitude to Paul and his warrior heart. To share your story is truly humbling. Thank you.