My name is Edwin and I’m an addict.
I grew up with my parents, two sisters and a brother. I’m the youngest in the family. At primary school, I had quite a few friends, but I struggled with a stammer which got worse over time. It made me feel different from everyone else. Several therapies later, I still hadn’t overcome the stammering and I was bullied from time to time. I started to withdraw and spent a lot of time playing alone. My mother and I were alike, so she knew something was wrong, but we never talked about our negative feelings.
“I developed two faces: a happy Edwin and a sometimes sad Edwin. I showed my sad and negative side to almost no one.”
In secondary school, things didn’t change much so I started smoking to fit in. I also began drinking: I noticed it helped me stammer less and made it easier to connect with others. I had nine close friends and we all drank quite a lot but I was often the one who drank the most. In 2000, two of my friends were involved in an accident with a taxi after a night out. One died and the other fell into a coma.
“From then on, I began drinking more and more to numb my feelings.”
By now, I was living with my wife, Sandra, and our beautiful daughter and son. But the drink always came between us. I worked a lot, and my weekends were filled with parties and alcohol, partly to avoid having to face my feelings. My mother was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease at a young age, and I found it very hard to deal with that. To make matters worse, a young colleague of mine died in a work accident. I drank more and more to numb my emotions, living a double life. Only my wife and children knew something was wrong. And so it continued, until they had had enough.
I sought outpatient care but that didn’t work for me. Then I called Connection SGGZ and explained my story. I was invited for an addiction assessment in Eindhoven and I drank my last beer on 10 November 2020. On 11 November, I went to the hospital in Den Bosch for a detox treatment. On 18 November, I moved to the rehab centre in Meerlo. I couldn’t believe what I heard there. I thought that I was actually doing well and was listening carefully. But even there, I hid behind a façade.
“I didn’t share my feelings and didn’t really accept that I was like the others: an addict.”
I was just going through the motions and had an overwhelming sense of homesickness because I was missing my wife and children.
“After four weeks in rehab, I had a tough conversation with a counsellor who gave me a wake-up call and told me some hard truths. That was my turning point.”
With only two weeks left, I started to open up and to finally feel liberated. That’s when my real recovery began! I accepted my illness and started building the foundations for living in recovery.
On 27 December 2020, I was discharged. I was really happy to be home again, but after a few days, I almost felt like crawling back to the rehab centre, my safe haven. Obviously, that wasn’t an option. I managed on my own, thanks to the tools I’d been given during treatment. I kept pushing forward with guidance and support meetings, opening up to my wife and starting to tell people that I was an addict and had been to rehab.
Slowly, I started believing that I could do it. I began living without alcohol, and my relationship with the outside world started to improve.
“Battling against my addiction is pointless because I will lose that fight. Instead, accepting things as they are, embracing what I do have and loving myself are key.”
This recovery story was written on 16 August 2023.
