I’m an alcoholic and my name is Tori.

By Tori MuzykMay 11, 2021

This piece is part of our Mental Health Month blog series, where we highlight and explore lesser-known mental health challenges. Here’s Tori’s experience with and perspective on alcoholism.

I don’t remember my first drink. Not really. I was raised around alcohol and by alcoholics. Wine and such weren’t hard to come by. I do remember drinking whenever I could—despite being underage. At my uncle’s restaurant openings, holiday parties, especially when my dad asked his older sister not to give me booze, school bonfires I never felt cool enough to be at—sober or otherwise.

Ever since I was introduced to alcohol it became about getting more. Always more. Not long after my first drink came my first drunk. Then my first blackout, trip to the drunk tank, legal fine, etc. My sponsor says it best, ‘it was incredibly difficult to tell if I was drinking like an alcoholic or if I was drinking like any other college student in the US.’ Pre-gaming is a part of our culture, enough so that fun and alcohol had become synonymous.

I never learned to drink pretty though.

I woke up drenched in urine. Not knowing where I was. I’d pissed whatever bed I’d been placed in and quickly found out that I was in the local detox, casually referred to as the ‘drunk tank.’ I’d been picked up the night before for drunk and disorderly conduct. It was pre-Uber times, so they called me a cab back to my college dorm. I remember getting into the shower, terrified someone would see me, fully clothed, with a plastic TJ Maxx bag. I stripped and proceeded to throw my clothes out in the backyard dumpster. That was my second night at college and it would have made for a sufficient rock bottom, but I was nowhere near done drinking.

It took me seven more years of blackouts, not knowing where I was, fearing the unopened texts on my phone, losing friends and relationships, and deep shame before I got sober. I was familiar with Alcoholics Anonymous. My grandmother and my mother had both tried out the program for themselves. I was aware there were 12 steps (although I couldn’t name them at the time), I was familiar with the serenity prayer, and I knew that I was desperate to be the only one in my alcoholic family who could drink non-alcoholically.

But there was a flaw in my plan because alcoholics and addicts are physically wired differently than those without a substance use disorder. Science has proven this. It’s referred to as ‘The Great Obsession.’ Alcoholics are powerless over the first drink. I am powerless over the first drink. Once I have one, I will always have a second. No matter what.

My eventual rock bottom looked like me falling to my knees and begging any and every god to take me or the pain away. I didn’t care which one. I’d been sexually assaulted earlier that evening and decided to drunkenly drive to my ex-partner’s apartment, the one I’d moved out of weeks prior. The relationship had turned abusive and that evening was no different. After a physical fight, I crawled back into my Subaru and made my way home. That’s when the praying started. It truly was a “You had to be there” moment, but that pain, that genuine plea for help, led me to my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous.

There, I learned all about my lack of terminal uniqueness. Turns out everything I’d been feeling my whole life: deep-seated resentment, debilitating fear, erratic rage, colossal shame, the feeling that I somehow deserved to feel pain and was simultaneously a waste of space—all commonalities amongst sober alcoholics.

I was also quickly informed of how lucky I was to hit my rock bottom so young. We like to say, “There’s a bottom below the bottom you know,” meaning we can choose to keep digging, to keep ripping and running, to keep drinking, but we don’t have to. A sufficient bottom does not need to include total calamity for it to be enough to make someone stop. My bottom hurt, a lot, as did most of my drinking escapades, but I still have what we call “not yets” waiting for me if I were to choose to start drinking again. Some of those not yets include the loss of financial security, a DUI, permanent legal ramifications, and the state of my liver.

A small part of me used to think to qualify to join Alcoholics Anonymous you needed to have a gruesome story. It just so happens that the only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking. It took me seven years to want to stop. Earlier on I wanted to stop losing friendships, I wanted to stop the negative physical impacts brought on by my drinking, I wanted to stop having such little respect for myself that I consistently put myself in physical danger, but it was never rooted deeply enough to actually want to stop drinking. Not until 2018, a little over two and a half years ago.

My last drink was also my last drunk. There are quite a few slogans within my 12-step program, all of which I hold near and dear to my heart, but my two favorites are: “This is not a self-improvement program, this is a self-acceptance program” and “Progress, not perfection.” I’ve learned to grow up in sobriety, to mend my wounds, parent my inner child, and forgive others as well as myself. Alcoholics Anonymous has given me everything that alcohol promised: self-love, confidence, once-in-a-lifetime friendships, stability, and serenity.

I stay sober because I genuinely have no desire to drink today, but I remain a proud member of a 12-step recovery program because I know I have another drunk in me, but I’m not so certain I have another recovery in me. Since getting sober, life has by no means become a wish-granting factory, I’ve experienced some dream-come-true moments, as well as the fruition of most of my fears, but I’ve walked through each of them soberly and that fact remains front and center in my mind.

I’m an alcoholic and my name is Tori. 

You deserve love and a safe place to begin, continue, or restart your journey toward healing. We encourage you to use TWLOHA’s FIND HELP Tool to locate professional help and to read more stories like this one here. If you reside outside of the US, please browse our growing International Resources database. You can also text TWLOHA to 741741 to be connected for free, 24/7 to a trained Crisis Text Line counselor. If it’s encouragement or a listening ear that you need, email our team at info@twloha.com.

Leave a Reply

Comments (24)

  1. rb


    Reply  |  
  2. Jill S

    You are such a light and an amazing AA!!

    Reply  |  
  3. Tauren Gess

    Keep up the good work you are an inspiration to many!

    Reply  |  
  4. Shona

    If you are just climbing into your boat for this trip down the Styx River, I hope you will check out Ellen Petersen book net-bossorg/how-to-help-an-alcoholic-you-love, for some insight into the things I wished I had known in the beginning. And if you’ve been on the river for awhile now, check out WrenRWaters.com for how you can finally took control of this boat called My Life and steering it into more peaceful waters.

    Reply  |  
  5. Mia

    I needed this ❤

    Reply  |  
  6. Jem

    No matter the upbringing, however one becomes an addict is tragic to no end. I can sympathize with this for my own reasons, but wish the pain on noone. Trying to be cool, running from demons, or numbing the pain does not seem to have an end with addiction. It’s great to hear those who have fought so hard to crawl out from the abyss. Keep fighting to stay sober.

    Reply  |  
  7. Breanna


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  8. Sandy

    My father was an alcoholic and h we ended up dying by suicide because he drank everyday and mixed his medication with it, my best friend also is one she has went so far as to drank mouthwash and hairspray it is really sad to see people you love deal with this disease

    Reply  |  
    1. TWLOHA

      We are so sorry for your loss, Sandy. And we hope that your best friend can find the care and help she needs and deserves. Please know that there are more stories like this and resources to be found here: https://twloha.com/find-help/help-by-topic/addiction/

      Reply  |  
  9. Teresa

    Thank you for the help you’re giving so many by sharing your pain and your journey.

    Reply  |  
  10. James Durham

    Love love love this i have been in recovery now for 5yrs and have never been so happy my life now is 2nd to none so greatful

    Reply  |  
  11. Kay


    Reply  |  
  12. Ormyah Selig

    I’m Proud Of You

    Reply  |  
  13. Rebecca Hernandez

    I felt this story in my heart. I decided to quit drinking, I’m 25. I love this story and it spoke volumes to me.

    Reply  |  
  14. Savannah

    Thank you for sharing your story!!

    Reply  |  
  15. Madison

    Thank you for sharing. This resonated more than you know and I applaud your courage and honesty.

    Reply  |  
  16. Brenda Cosio

    Beautiful story addition can be tough to overcome but with support and programs it can be accomplished

    Reply  |  
  17. Bianca

    Thank you for sharing your story. I too, am an alcoholic in recovery. Your story is the first I’ve read here, I happened upon this app by chance. Funny how when I quit drinking, I thought my life would magically be smooth sailing and all smiles. Far from that. Im happy to be here. Love & Peace

    Reply  |  
  18. Ana Karen

    Yo hablo español pero aun así este blog es todo lo cierto de esta vida

    Reply  |  
  19. Briana

    I read this and immediately sent this to a good friend of mine hoping it will give him some hope ya know ..

    Reply  |  
  20. Brian Miller

    I’ve overcame addiction twice in my life and almost died.

    Reply  |  
  21. Lisa B

    Im sn alcoholic and my name is Lisa

    Reply  |  
  22. Nikki

    You never really expect it to effect you.

    Reply  |  
  23. Shana

    Thank you for sharing. This was a true reminder why I choose to stay sober. I just made it to my 15 month mark and am glad I made this decision.

    Reply  |  
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