Freedom. Beautiful Freedom.

By Alice M. Patterson
Jul 4, 2019
3 min read

Freedom: the state of not being imprisoned or enslaved; the state of being physically unrestricted and able to move easily; the state of not being subject to or affected by (a particular undesirable thing); the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity.

I haven’t always been free. Constrained by the disease of addiction, I spent my 20s, 30s, and most of my 40s imprisoned by the obsession to drink. And while you might not have seen my struggle (call it “high functioning”), I silently and painfully suffered between not knowing how to live with—or without—alcohol. Hidden behind the college degree, a professional career and an exhausting list of volunteer commitments was a shameful secret dying to get out. I needed help.

I might as well have had bars around my house; I was imprisoned every night after 5 when the wine would open and I’d go about my business of cooking dinner, helping with homework and—after putting my daughter to bed—proceeding to “unwind” to the point of no return. Each morning, I’d wake with a promise to myself I’d quit (and meaning it to my core), yet finding myself repeating the pattern over and over. I couldn’t stop. Thanks to the love of family and friends, I was faced with a choice: get help, or lose what mattered most to me. I chose sobriety, and in that choice I discovered freedom. That was 7 ½ years ago.

Walking this road has been the most rewarding and difficult thing I’ve ever done. It’s true when they say that sobriety isn’t for people who need it… it’s for people who want it. Every day, I have to want my health to come first. Every day, I have to get humble and honest about my disease. This has meant, in some cases, choosing sobriety over love and watching the dimming of old friendships. It has meant my heart breaking into a million pieces time and again, yet watching it grow back together every time… just a little bit stronger than it was before. It’s also meant a new relationship with my Self, an appreciation for others who share the struggle, and the discovery of friendships so deep I find myself drowning in gratitude.

On this Independence Day, here are just a few of the freedoms that make my life whole today. I share them in hopes of taking out the stigma associated with addiction. If you’re struggling, know that life can get better:

Today, I’m free to appreciate the smile lines around my eyes, remembering how many remarkable and happy things they’ve seen over the years: the birth of my daughter, the unwavering generosity of family, the power of personal change.

I’m free to greet the imperfections of my body with a warm hello rather than a chiding bark, knowing that every flaw I see is most likely manufactured in my mind, invisible and unimportant to others.

I’m free to get vulnerable with you and tell you that while I can appreciate my laugh lines, sometimes it’s lonely here behind this smile.

I’m free to accept and protect the bruises on my heart instead of wishing them away, thankful for the lessons about growing up and love and forgiveness each has taught me.

I’m free to take stock of where I am on this predictably bumpy road and—on my best days-- trust I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be (remembering that on some days, the truck just needs to get kicked into 4-wheel drive to get through).

I’m free to listen to my intuition, and to run when it tells me to.

I’m free to look at the blessings in your life, and be happy for you without wishing what you had belonged to me.

I’m free to call you to say “I love you,” because it’s finally hit me that life is too short to let another second go by without you knowing.

I’m free to practice tolerance instead of frustration, to lend a hand instead of stewing in a thick, messy bowl of self-pity.

Today, I’m free to accept generosity, and sit it gratitude for everything I’m blessed with. I’m also free to suffer if I want, to live imprisoned by dissatisfaction, self-doubt and negativity.