For much of his life, Steven looked like he had everything under control.
He grew up in a close-knit family with loving parents, a sister he considered his best friend, and a busy life filled with sports and friends. From the outside, there were no obvious warning signs. But looking back, Steven can see that his relationship with alcohol was different from the beginning.
“I pretty much always did everything to excess,” he said. “One beer was never enough.”
What started as heavy drinking in high school and college gradually evolved into something far more destructive. By adulthood, alcohol had become a constant companion, helping him cope with mounting grief and trauma.
In 2013, Steven’s sister died by suicide at age 27.
“It felt like there was no escaping this cycle of death,” he said.
Over the following years, he experienced multiple devastating losses, including the deaths of family members, his mother’s cancer diagnosis, a divorce, and a tragic car accident in which another driver intentionally stepped into traffic and was killed. Although he continued moving forward, he never fully processed the pain.
Instead, he drank.
By the time the COVID-19 pandemic began, Steven was living alone and working remotely. His drinking escalated from a nightly ritual to an around-the-clock dependence.
“COVID was the best thing for someone like me,” he said. “I could just drink all day, every day.”
His health deteriorated rapidly. Multiple hospitalizations for pancreatitis brought repeated warnings from doctors that he needed to stop drinking permanently. Yet he couldn’t imagine life without alcohol.
“It was never an option not to drink.”
Eventually, the consequences became impossible to ignore. He began sneaking alcohol into work and drinking at his desk. Blackouts became routine. Entire days disappeared from memory.
The turning point came after a meeting with his boss.
“He asked me about something we’d talked about the day before, and I had no memory of the conversation,” Steven recalled. “That’s when I knew I had to do something.”
With encouragement from his mother and members of her recovery community, Steven came to Ashley in 2022.
Although detox was physically difficult, Ashley opened his eyes to a world he knew almost nothing about.
“I knew recovery existed, but I didn’t know anything about it,” he said. “Ashley helped me understand the disease and what recovery could look like.”
He immersed himself in treatment, participated in groups, built friendships, and continued with outpatient care and support meetings after discharge. He found a home group, connected with sponsors, and became involved in an Ashley alumni meeting that continues to serve as a bridge for people leaving treatment.
For a while, everything seemed to be working.
Then he slowly began pulling away from recovery.
“I stopped going to as many meetings. I stopped calling my sponsor. I stopped doing the things that were helping me stay sober.”
Within a short period, Steven found himself back in active addiction and eventually returned to Ashley. Then he returned again.
“I felt defeated,” he said. “I kept asking myself, ‘Why can’t I get this?'”
During his later stays at Ashley, Steven began confronting something he had spent years avoiding: grief.
He started processing the loss of his sister and examining the pain that had accumulated throughout his life. He also began developing a deeper understanding of spirituality and the role it could play in his recovery.
For years, he had struggled with the concept of a higher power.
“I thought I needed to understand exactly what it was before I could believe in it,” he said.
Eventually, he realized he didn’t need all the answers.
“I just needed to accept that there was something bigger than me.”
That shift changed everything.
Instead of trying to control every outcome, Steven began focusing on what he could control: his own actions, his recovery, and how he showed up for others.
The results have transformed his life.
Today, Steven remains active in recovery, works closely with his sponsor, participates in his home group, helps lead Ashley alumni meetings, and regularly returns to Ashley to share his story with current patients.
Most importantly, he has become someone his family can count on.
At the height of his addiction, he missed his grandfather’s funeral because he was drinking. But when his father passed away after a battle with cancer, Steven was present.
“I was there holding his hand when he took his last breath,” he said.
Rather than turning to alcohol, he focused on supporting his family through their grief.
“If I was still drinking, I never would have been able to experience those last moments with him,” he said.
Recovery has also restored something addiction had taken from him: trust.
“My dad once told me he assumed everything that came out of my mouth was a lie,” Steven said.
Today, that’s no longer the case.
When friends or family call for help, they know he’ll show up.
“My mom told me recently, ‘When you say you’re going to do something, I know you’re going to do it.'”
For Steven, that’s one of the greatest gifts recovery has given him.
Not perfection.
Not certainty.
Just the ability to be present.
To be dependable.
To show up.
“Things happen around me, but not to me,” he said. “Today, I can be there for my family, my friends, and the people who need me. That’s a life I never thought I’d have.”
And it all started with asking for help.
