Back from rehab, I believed, due to a few months of sobriety, that all the problems in my life would solve themselves. Alcohol had been the problem. The thing that was holding me back was removed, so nothing could stop me!!!Stop me from... organizing my books and haircare products? Catching up on the TV I missed?I found myself more and more preoccupied with the things that NOT drinking was preventing me from doing, or would at least stop me from enjoyingThe problem was I hadn’t created an alt...

The last month at Portage I was looking for an escape route. Now this wasn’t a literal, Shawshank redemption, crawl through the sewers kind of escape, it was escape through focus, which I was determined to be on anything but my role in the community, the therapeutic model, or even my alcoholism, it was, often, on everyone else and THEIR problems. And planning my marriage to a guy I'd spoken to once, puzzling over the logistics of whether it’s OK for addicts and alcoholics to get wa...

It seems the Johnny Depp vs. Amber Heard trial made me have a whole lot of feelings. Particularly, where do ideas and 'victim' and 'perpetrator' fall apart when there is wrongdoing on both sides, or when an environment or relationship is in itself intrinsically chaotic. I have been in plenty of mutual destructive relationships, and substance abuse seems to change the rules of engagement.To what extent do we hold people to different ethical standards when they are intoxicated? Should we? To wh...

My first rehab was awful. Often, when I externalized my misery in one way or another, I can look back and say, naw, well, that was really more of a me thing. Yet with this rehab, I look back and still think it was awful.Was I miserable the whole time? Absolutely. Was I also sober the whole time? Yup. For many of the residents there being in portage meant they weren’t on the streets, they were away from abusive relationships, they were out of prison, and many, probably, just not DEAD, and that...

My grandfather passed away, and I was useless. I didn’t go to the hospital in his last few weeks. Hospitals really bummed me out. I mean I was fragile. God forbid I carry any extra emotional weight. I checked out. I did nothing but try to drink less, feeling terribly burdened by this sacrifice, and that was all I could summon. I couldn’t handle complex emotions, my own or others’, without alcohol. However, WITH alcohol I ran the risk of completely mishandling those emotions. I spent all ...

Back at Concordia University, I set some boundaries with myself and alcohol. Since I still wanted to drink all the time, I had to strategize how my ‘normal’ drinking was going to go down. Was there an event being hosted at a bar? Was there a poetry reading, an open mic, someone in the program’s birthday? Well, yes, as it turned out! Almost every night, yes!!! If not, I knew the haunts I could reliably find other students or teachers having a drink after class. There were book launches a...

Warning: This episode contains descriptions of sexual assault that may not be suitable for some listeners. Want to talk about it? Drop me a line at [email protected] second after I accepted that Leo had really dumped me, I plunged into the project of ‘getting him out of my system’ by sleeping around. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, as they say, I was taking my power back, yessiree!This was all utter bullshit, and even drunk me was aware of it on som...

Addicted to Recovery's first conversation episode, where I talk to Brianne Davis about sex and love addiction, and our secret lives. Video format available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4wJYuVLJJbYTalk to me about at [email protected] my co-conspirator: With over 12 years of recovery as a Sex and Love Addict, Brianne hosts the popular personal journal podcast “Secret Life.” The podcast launched in August 2020 and features inspiring true confessions from an eclectic group ...

I wake up to my phone ringing through a lacerating headache. I ignore it. The person calls again. The guy sleeping next to me grumbles enough that I pick it up, mumbling hello, my breath acrid, my mouth chalky and sticky. There is a frantic woman on the line demanding “are you Tara?” I grunt affirmative. “I’d like to know what this magical evening you spent with my fiance is all about.” Shit. Which one was that? I’d been flinging my body around so carelessly, to whoever would take it, I wasn’...

My classmates in Creative Writing would understand how edgy, cool and tortured I was, and how cool my drinking was. The first writing assignment I workshopped in my fiction writing class was from my *ahem* novel, a chapter in which the narrator, reeling from a devastating breakup, hurtles into alcoholic drinking and ends up in rehab. Funny how I was writing things, as ‘fiction,’ that hadn’t happened to me yet, but were going to. Was it prediction? Manifestation? But a story about r...