Accountable's Recovery Blog
With over a decade of alcohol and drug abuse, it became clear I could not drink responsibly or consume in moderation. Upon further review, I came to understand I was never able to drink responsibly and was predisposed to consume in excess. Moderation is a construct I still don’t understand. Alcohol, drugs, sugar, ego, all things I love to indulge in. At 25 years old, weeks before the pandemic, I found myself being escorted by security from my beloved office in a sought-after industry in a glamorous part of Los Angeles. Pursuing a career in talent management, the late nights, weekly drinking, daily drug use culminated in the unavoidable fear, anxiety and sense of calamity that led me to recovery. I asked myself, “What was the common denominator between lost jobs, friends lost, arrests, hurt feelings and selfishness?” People, places, things were always changing, but the one constant in my story was me with drugs and alcohol. Walking into the West Hollywood Recovery Center on Monday February 5th, 2020 at noon was not my first meeting. It was, however, the first meeting at which I listened and actually took suggestions. Meetings as a teenager, and again in college when my drug use got bad, were simply to get people off my back. As I look back, I understand that I actually needed to get out of my own way, not have those who loved me off of my back. I am grateful to have gotten sober during a time when the world shut down and so many struggled. I had nowhere to go, no outside distractions to challenge my commitment. I fully emerged myself in meetings and all that AA had to offer for young people. There were thousands of virtual meetings at every hour of the day, but more importantly, rooms and outdoor meetings in LA that never missed a beat. There was an underground community of meeting makers that continued to go to in-person meetings, masks on, hugs and fellowship. I found that the work of early recovery far outweighed the isolation. I left the entertainment industry with two years of sobriety. New career opportunities opened up pretty quickly for me. Transitioning into the startup and tech sales world, I was able to move back home to New York and be closer to my family. As my sobriety continued, new career paths continued to present themselves. When I was introduced to Matt and AJ, I was immediately impressed with their mission and welcomed the opportunity to join the team. I am confident that the combination of my personal and professional success, as well as my CARC, CRPA certification, made my decision the perfect one for me. Having hit my stride in my own recovery, I now see that that my purpose is to help others. It is a purpose I do not take lightly. I bring the same energy and focus that has helped me to get where I am today to other individuals and families alike looking for a better way.
My name is Stephanie Myers, and I am excited to be part of the incredible team at You Are Accountable . As difficult as my journey prior to recovery was, I am grateful for every step along the way. My recovery journey began five years ago through what I believe was divine intervention. At my lowest point—mentally, physically, and spiritually—I was led to a 12-step recovery program. Most of my life was spent seeking relief from my internal and external struggles. During my teenage years, I thought I had found a solution, but my addiction only progressed, leading me to the depths of despair. My addiction compromised my morals, diminished my integrity, and left me with a profound sense of hopelessness. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame, I realized that everything in my life had to change. I became willing to do whatever it took to shift the trajectory of my life. Gradually, I connected with others who understood my pain and had found their way to recovery. I dedicated myself to internal work and began to fill the spiritual void that I had been attempting to fill with substances. Today, my life is filled with purpose, love, and more beauty than I could have ever imagined five years ago. It is my passion to help others realize that there is hope on the other side of addiction. As a Certified Peer Recovery Specialist, I strive to help plant the seed of recovery and help others grow along their path to recovery.
My name is Brittany, and I’m honored to be part of the team at You Are Accountable . My journey to recovery has been filled with struggles, lessons, and, ultimately, transformation. For years, I lived in the utter hopelessness of addiction, believing there was no way out. A "normal" life felt completely out of reach, and even as a child, I never felt like I had a true purpose. Throughout my active addiction, I found myself trapped in a relentless cycle. I would put one substance down—whether through treatment or court-ordered intervention—but almost immediately, I would pick up another. Each time, I restarted the same painful, destructive cycle, convinced that I could never break free. It wasn’t until I realized that recovery is an inside job that things began to change. Changing people, places, and things (and substances) can only do so much for so long; true recovery requires doing the hard work within. My turning point came when I became pregnant with my first daughter. For the first time in my life, I found a reason to fight for something greater than myself. That moment marked the beginning of my journey to recovery, and through that journey, I discovered the life I never thought was possible. Today, I’m blessed with an amazing job, a beautiful family with two incredible daughters, and an active role in my recovery community. As a Certified Peer Recovery Specialist (CPRS) and Recovery Coach, I am passionate about helping others find hope and healing. I understand the challenges of breaking free from addiction, and I’m living proof that it’s possible to create a life filled with purpose, joy, and connection. Recovery has given me everything I once believed was out of reach, and I’m honored to walk alongside others as they embark on their own journeys to freedom.
For much of my life, I felt as if a part of me was missing — a feeling underscored by a constant, underlying sadness that I couldn't put into words. It felt like having a small stone inside of my shoe. Invisible to others yet always there, a constant reminder that I carried with me, influencing my every step. It was during high school that this feeling drove me to seek escape through substance use, beginning with pain medication. Before I knew it, I was addicted. I lost control. This lack of control followed me into college, where I used substances constantly. I sought escape in any and every substance I could find, rarely spending a day sober. My addiction escalated, and I turned to stronger drugs, which eventually dominated my life. Even Suboxone, which helped me and initially offered hope, became another casualty of my addiction. I was reduced to a hollow version of myself, my world shrinking to encompass only the next fix, at the expense of all other interests and relationships. For years, I remained trapped in this empty, repetitive existence. It wasn’t until I got sober that I began to understand what I had been searching for all along. It was like finally taking off my shoe and discovering the source of that constant, nagging discomfort — realizing it was a symptom of a much deeper wound. Through rehab and recovery, I connected with people who shared my struggles. These connections changed everything. For the first time, I felt seen and understood, and I realized that I wasn’t alone. My recovery journey isn’t just about staying sober— it’s about building a life worth living. It’s about finding joy, connection, and a sense of purpose. That’s what recovery has given me, and that’s what I hope to help others find for themselves. Recovery is possible for anyone willing to take the first step, and I’m passionate about walking this path alongside those ready to change their lives. If you’re struggling, know that you’re not alone. Recovery is hard, but it’s worth it. And when you’re ready to take that first step, there are people like me who are here to walk with you, every step of the way.
As the holiday season approaches, I find myself reflecting on the journey from the days of active addiction to where I stand today. The holidays used to be a time when I would isolate myself, using the festivities as an excuse to indulge in behaviors that deepened my struggles. But now, in recovery from alcohol and substance use disorder, I am filled with gratitude for the transformation in my life. Today, I cherish the healthy relationships I've built, the strength of my body, and the values and morals that guide me. These are the true gifts of the season, and I express my gratitude by actively participating in the moments that matter. I show up for my family, engage in meaningful conversations, and contribute to the joy of the day by helping prepare and clean up meals. These simple acts of connection and service fill my heart with warmth and remind me how far I’ve come. The holidays have become an opportunity to celebrate the positive changes in my life. Over the years, I’ve developed strategies to navigate the unique challenges this season can bring, like reconnecting with old friends or managing family dynamics. I plan my schedule intentionally, ensuring I have transportation and a supportive network, such as a sponsor or trusted friend, to rely on. Taking moments to step outside and make a grounding phone call helps me stay centered amidst the festivities. Service has also become a cornerstone of my holiday experience. Keeping my hands busy with tasks like cooking or cleaning not only helps others but also brings peace and stillness to my mind. Physical activity plays a vital role in calming my spirit and easing any lingering anxiety. For me, life is a precious gift, and the holidays are a beautiful reminder of that truth. Each year, I am grateful for the chance to participate fully, no longer taking these moments for granted. If you find yourself on a similar path, know that you are not alone. Together, we can embrace the holidays with hope, gratitude, and joy. Happy Thanksgiving to all—may your season be filled with love and light!
The holidays are a time for celebration and a sense of togetherness. However, for people in recovery, they can also bring feelings of fear and anxiety. No matter what holiday it is, we can approach these moments with intention and caution in many different ways. My old sponsor used to tell me about a "recovery recipe" that can help ease our hearts and minds during challenging times. "Sober Soup" Recipe 1 cup of staying connected Staying in contact with your support network is essential. Knowing who your people are and having them readily accessible can be a great resource for strength and accountability. 2 cups of boundaries Setting healthy boundaries with friends and family helps ensure your safety in more ways than one. Don’t be afraid to say no to events or situations that could jeopardize your well-being and sobriety. 4 tablespoons of planning ahead Having a plan is vital. What will you do if someone offers you a drink? Preparing an exit strategy or a response in advance can help you stay on track. 3 tablespoons of being kind to yourself Recovery is a journey, and it’s okay to face moments of struggle. Every minute of the day that you remain sober is a victory—acknowledge and celebrate those wins, no matter how small they may seem. 2 dashes of creating new traditions If old traditions bring up difficult emotions or memories, create new ones that reflect your goals and the new sober version of yourself. It’s the little tips and tricks we learn along the way that make a difference. This recipe was shared with me 17 years ago, and to this day, I still practice it. Every morning, I remind myself that I am in recovery, and each day is an opportunity to choose sobriety. #WeDoRecover
I grew up full of fear. Everything terrified me. I never felt comfortable in my own skin. It wasn’t until I started smoking pot at 14—because I was too afraid to stand up to peer pressure—that I finally felt a sense of freedom and relaxation for the first time. I chased that high for the next 16 years. Somehow, I managed to graduate college with an OxyContin addiction, and after that, with nothing tethering me to the real world, things got a lot worse. I went to detox for the first of many times in 2005. I left there thinking I wasn’t an addict and that my use had just gotten out of control. That denial kept me in and out of treatment for the next decade. Heroin became my entire life. I couldn’t hold a job, I overdosed, I got Hepatitis C from sharing needles, and I didn’t care about anything except getting high. I was so full of shame at what my life had become, but I just couldn’t stop. I was great at trying to stop, but I couldn’t stay stopped. The gift of desperation came to me in April 2012. I couldn’t keep living the way I was. I finally wanted to live instead of die. That compulsion to use left me when I finally surrendered to it. Today, I wake up grateful for the life I have. My 6-year-old daughter is the greatest joy of my life, and she has never seen me use. Today, with the support of my wonderful husband, my family, and my recovery network, I live a full life of joy and purpose. There is no more rewarding feeling in the world than sharing the gift of recovery with others.
Overdose. It’s a word that catches in my throat and a topic that stops me in my tracks. As a person in long-term recovery from Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) and Substance Use Disorder (SUD), I have overdosed many times. I have been revived by paramedics three times. Waking up in a hospital bed with no idea how I got there—scared. Or in the back of an ambulance, sick and angry for being Narcaned, a crazed hostage of my addicted mind. Or in a front yard, soaking wet from someone throwing me in a cold shower, unsuccessfully trying to revive me before leaving me outside—confused. These experiences don’t account for the countless times I have overdosed and been revived by a concerned party—now scarred by the trauma of my disease in its final stage, trying to carry out its final act, resulting in an untimely death. Overdose. After all of this, it was the kindness and care of others that made the difference between another chance and another day. Another dose of hope and life. An opportunity to begin again. On a day like today, reflecting on a topic that is so close to the heart of everyone connected to this reality, I am grateful. I am hopeful. I am humble. Because I know how lucky I am. How undeserving I was. And I live my amends and gratitude by doing my best to embody and live the values of a recovery that works. I also keep close to my heart, at the forefront of my mind, and on the tip of my tongue, the names of the countless others who weren’t as lucky as I. In honor of Overdose Awareness Day, I will say the names of my friends who weren’t fortunate enough to receive as many chances as I did, and I will live in their names—sober today and willing to extend a hand to anyone who needs it in their journey to recover and spread hope to both the sufferer and the caregiver. Today, let us remember those we have lost, cherish the moments we have been given, and continue to fight for a future where overdose is a distant memory. Together, we can make a difference. Together, we can spread hope.
I was devastated when I heard that another close friend I'd made in treatment was gone. Seven friends in my first six months—two had come into treatment, left, and passed away while I was still there. In the years that followed, many others who had walked this path alongside me were lost as well. Nine in my first year of recovery. I found myself asking, "Why am I still here? Why didn’t they ‘get it’?" Survivor’s guilt was not something I expected to experience in recovery. It hit me hard and fast when I began my journey in 2011. I was terrified. I would sit and think about friends I had just seen or spoken to—did they seem different? Did they sound off? I was so scared of who I would lose next. Through my work with a therapist and finding my own voice, I learned to transform my survivor's guilt into hope. I realized that by using my voice, sharing my story, saying their names, and talking about the profound impact each of them had on me—in life and in death—I could help others understand that recovery is possible. Perhaps, something I share will give someone struggling a glimmer of hope that they, too, can find recovery. On Overdose Awareness Day, August 31, we remember and honor those we've lost to this devastating disease. In loving memory of Ben, Pat, Krista, Harry, Christina, Brook, Dustin, Jeff, Jamie, and everyone we have lost—you are remembered and loved, today and every day.
About Me I'm Mel, an addictions counselor, health and wellness coach, and a recovery coach with a profound personal and professional commitment to transformation. Sobriety has given me over 12 years of living a life I once couldn't imagine—a life filled with hope, happiness, and achievement. Once struggling with addiction, I have redefined my identity from addict and felon to a resilient, successful wife and mother. Today, I am passionate about empowering others to rewrite their stories, offering the tools and support needed to build fulfilling lives free from addiction. It doesn't matter how long it takes, new life can begin at sobriety. My Story Recovery means to me “building, maintaining and living a life that you no longer NEED to use drugs to make it through the day”. I have been sober for 12 and a half years and something I have learned is that getting sober is an opportunity to live a completely different life. A life you can look forward to living. The terms that I used to associate or describe myself were addict, felon, loser, thief, estranged from family and failure. The more recent terms I have thought to myself are sober AND happy about it, wife, determined, strong, resilient, successful and mom. You can change the narrative, you can build a whole new you! I have built a life that the old me could never have dreamed of. Now I help others achieve the same, as an addictions counselor, health and wellness coach, and recovery coach I am ready to help you when you build your recovered life too. I tend to think of my childhood in the sense of “the before” and then “the after”. The “before” childhood was happy. My father, mother, little brother and I went on family vacations, had dinner at the kitchen table every night, had rules and structure and was stable. We lived a typical suburban NJ family life. This was before my mother passed away from a slow, sad death from cancer. The “after” childhood never looked the same again. My family crumbled. My father is from another country and the cultural barrier without my American mother to mitigate only propelled us further apart. My father's previously low-key alcoholism spiraled out of control and my brother, and I were left to fend for ourselves. I easily fell into the comfort of the “wrong” crowd at school. Started experimenting with drugs like marijuana, ecstasy, prescription anxiety medications and cocaine. It wasn't until I found and started taking my mother’s leftover pain medication that my habits soared to a new level of use and eventually addiction. I started to get in trouble and spent most of my high school years in and out of hospitals and rehabs. I was young so the options for treatment were limited. Eventually the pills ran out and heroin was the next step. Heroin was my life, I didn't do anything else but wake up, use, find ways to use more, go to bed and repeat. Once I started with heroin there was no stopping and eventually, I was expelled from school for refusing to complete anymore treatment. This only accelerated my use as I had nothing else to do, no adult supervision, and no other goals in life. Then I started selling drugs to fuel my habit. During this time, my little brother eventually followed me into the drug life, who unfortunately until this day remains battling his demons. After I turned 18, I started to acquire criminal charges and a couple arrests which eventually led to a yearlong investigation and a raid. This final arrest is where everything finally changed. I was finally given very serious consequences, jail time and a criminal record. I went to rehab for the last time and ended up being clean for my 20th birthday, and every birthday since. Over the last 12.5 years I have achieved things I never thought possible for myself. Number one being not only sobriety but finding extreme happiness as a sober person. I'm married, my husband is also in recovery, and we have two beautiful children together. I went back to school and obtained my credentials in alcohol and drug counseling in the state of NJ. I am also a health and wellness coach. Currently I'm in the process of furthering education in both fields. My mission is to be able to provide a whole self-health approach from addictions to whole self-wellness. Getting sober reminds me there is no timeline on what you can achieve in life, life starts when you start living it. Now let's freaking live!
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