My Story

My Recovery Story

My name is Haler Smith, and this is my story of recovery from alcoholism. I took my first drink at fourteen and chased that fleeting sense of peace for years. By twenty, I had reached my bottom — lost, broken, and ready to surrender. Through Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and the 12 Steps of AA, I began my sobriety journey, learning to trust a Higher Power and live one day at a time.

Today, after decades of continuous sobriety, I share my experience, strength, and hope to help others find the same spiritual freedom I’ve been given. What follows is not theory or advice — it’s exactly what happened to me and how I recovered.

 

My Story (short version)

What It Was Like — How I Drank

I started drinking for the effects when I was 14. My first drink was likely sipping a beer with my dad while fishing. It didn’t taste good at the time, and nothing inside me changed. But when I was 14, I had an experience with alcohol that changed me — the moment my recovery journey unknowingly began.

Ever since I can remember, I felt like I stood out, and not in a good way. I thought people were talking about me or judging me. I never felt like I belonged anywhere. Awkward and out of place is the best description of how I felt. I grew up in a middle-class home, went to a private school, and graduated with about 120 people, 60 of whom I’d known since kindergarten. I knew them all and felt close to none.

At 14, a small group of us had a sleepover. We all got drunk, and I had a life-altering experience. The chatter in my head stopped. I was able to enjoy the moment — no regret about yesterday, no fear of tomorrow. I finally felt like I was part of something. That peace and ease from alcohol was something I had never known before — and it was the feeling I chased for years, at all costs.

My early drinking was nothing special. I raided my parents’ liquor cabinet when I wanted and needed to drink. It’s not easy drinking every day when you’re young, but I drank any chance I could. I added marijuana in high school and started stealing my mother's Xanax, loving the downers with alcohol. My tolerance grew fast, and I took pride in how much I could drink. The last two years of high school were a drunken mess, but I still graduated and got into a good college in Dallas.

College is where things went from what I thought was manageable to completely out of control. When I got to Dallas and my parents left, I had no more barriers to drinking the way I wanted to. At home, I feared getting caught, but now there was no accountability. I drank every day — most of the day — and added Adderall, Cocaine, and LSD to the mix. I used drugs to manage my drinking. If I didn’t have enough alcohol, some substances helped increase the effects. Others helped me stay awake so I could drink longer.

My grades tanked. I dropped classes and barely passed the rest. I couldn’t admit it then, but I had lost all control. Eventually, I took a medical withdrawal and went to rehab. I got cleaned up, gained some weight, and learned a lot about alcoholism and addiction. But I left telling myself I was only a drug addict, not an alcoholic. The counselors suggested I go home, get back into school, and stay connected. So I did — and I drank almost immediately.

Back home, I went to a few AA meetings to keep my parents off my back. I even picked up a 30-day chip while secretly drinking and smoking marijuana. I told myself it was okay if I stayed away from hard drugs. By May 1998, at 19 years old, I was living in denial — and heading toward my bottom.

What Happened — What My Bottom Looked Like

The last nine months of my drinking were chaos: medical withdrawal, 30 days in rehab, then back to drinking within two weeks. When I returned to college, I quickly picked up where I left off. My drinking was daily, heavy, and destructive.

I met some fraternity guys and convinced myself that joining a fraternity would help me control my drinking. “If they can drink like I do and graduate,” I thought, “why not me?” But it didn’t work. The fraternity gave me cover to drink with different people each night so no one realized how much I was drinking.

From September to February, my life was hell. I was filled with anxiety, loneliness, and self-hatred. I promised myself and others I’d stop drinking, and every promise was broken. I was using cocaine, marijuana, and LSD daily. By November 1998, I was thinking about suicide every day. I felt trapped. The only way out, I thought, was to end my life.

I even drove around Dallas one day looking for a pawn shop to buy a shotgun. I couldn’t find it — and I thank God I didn’t. Looking back, I know my Higher Power intervened that day.

Physically, I was falling apart. I weighed around 140 pounds at six feet tall, living on alcohol and cigarettes. I smoked two packs and a quarter-ounce of marijuana a day. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I shook uncontrollably when I didn’t have alcohol. My body was failing, and my spirit was gone.

The last week of my drinking brought two major wake-up calls. One night, after only three beers, I threw up uncontrollably. The next night, I drank a 24-pack and couldn’t get drunk. Alcohol — my solution for everything — had stopped working. I knew I was near the end.

One February morning in 1999, I crawled to the bathroom, threw up, and looked in the mirror. I didn’t recognize the person staring back. I had prayed before, but always conditionally — “Get me out of this, and I’ll stop.” This time, broken and hopeless, I said simply:

“God, please help me.”

That was the moment of surrender and acceptance that changed my life. I believe my Higher Power stepped in and gave me the grace to try something different. I called my parents, got honest about my addiction, and asked for help. I came home and started going to Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meetings — and that’s where my recovery from alcoholism truly began.

This is what my bottom looked like — and it’s where my journey toward freedom and faith began.

What It’s Like Now — How I Try to Live the Program

“Bottom” means something different to everyone. For me, it was the point when living drunk became more painful than living sober. I had surrendered. That surrender became the foundation of my recovery story.

I haven’t had a drink since February 1999. I jumped into AA with both feet: daily meetings, finding a sponsor, working the 12 Steps of AA, and service work. I found a homegroup, changed my environment, and built a new fellowship. I lived simply: work, gym, meeting, dinner, bed. That was all I could manage — and it worked.

Since 1999, life has tested me in every way imaginable — marriage and divorce, family loss, moving, raising children, stepping over countless members of AA as they tried to get this thing, and caring for my mother as she battles dementia. Through all of it, I’ve stayed sober by relying on my Higher Power and practicing the principles of AA. I’ve learned that living sober means continuous growth, faith, and service.

I’ve failed many times in following the Program perfectly. But each failure has shown me where self-will returned and faith slipped. Every time, I’ve been able to see how my Higher Power used those moments to teach me something and strengthen me.

Today, I try to live in Steps 10, 11, and 12, seeking spiritual progress, not perfection. Each day is an opportunity for another spiritual awakening and a chance to carry the message.

“Our real purpose is to fit ourselves to be of maximum service to God and the people about us.” — Alcoholics Anonymous, p.77

That’s the life I strive to live — one day at a time.

I share my ongoing reflections, experiences, and lessons learned on the Change Your Truth Blog, where others on the same path can connect and grow.

To learn more about what drives me and the community I’m building, visit the About Haler Smith page.

— Haler Smith