Patrick’s Success Story of Sobriety and Overcoming Addiction

Growing up, I had what felt like the ideal life, and there was no place for drugs or alcohol. I had a loving family and was surrounded by friends who were ready to stand with me during any troubles. In my final year of university, I planned to become a designer and create stylish interiors. But one night changed everything. My brother and I had gone out to celebrate his birthday—just a fun night out, nothing special, but it ended in tragedy. On the way home, we were hit by a drunk driver. It all happened very quickly; I remember the chaos, the sirens, and the fear. I survived, but Nick didn’t. I felt lost, like a part of me had died that night, too.

At first, my mom began to distance herself from me, and then she stopped communicating entirely. She believed that I hadn’t protected my little brother, and in her eyes, everything that had happened was my fault. Everyone told me to be strong and assured me that time would heal my wounds. But I didn’t want time. I didn’t want to heal; I wanted my brother back. I felt as though every waking moment was a battle against this pain, and I didn’t know how to overcome it. The idea of feeling sadness forever was terrifying, so I did everything I could to shut it out. Alcohol became my escape. At first, I’d only drink on weekends—just enough to dull the pain. But as time passed, those weekends bled into weekdays, and soon, a drink or two turned into a constant cycle.

My friends tried to help me, but I didn’t need their concern. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy, and I didn’t want to face their questions. I wasn’t ready to confront my grief or my choices. Pushing them away was easier than explaining the depths of my suffering. But my alcohol addiction developed faster than I could control. I became someone I hardly recognized—angry, distant, unpredictable. I transformed into an addict, and after some time, even my best friends avoided meeting with me.

The event that changed everything happened on a chilly winter evening. I was driving home after “just a couple of drinks.” As I turned a corner too fast, my car skidded and narrowly avoided hitting pedestrians. I saw the frightened face of a young boy holding his mother’s hand. It was like I was transported back to that night. I realized it wasn’t my fault; I shouldn’t ruin my life, but I should live for my brother and do my best to make this world better.

The next morning, I contacted one of Boston’s rehabs to have a supervised medical detox. I had 60 days of inpatient rehabilitation and an endless stream of meetings with psychologists and mentors for those who have alcohol or drug addiction. When I finished all the programs and needed to go back to real life and find a job, I got scared. That’s how I came to Eco Sober.

I didn’t expect much at first but decided to stay here for 1–2 months. Walking into the corridor of this sober house, I was surprised by the warmth of the people around me. I expected pity or distance, but instead, I found understanding. The people there didn’t judge me; they welcomed me like a family.

Here, for the first time, I feel all the weight of responsibility for my future and real understanding from others. I realized that there was a path forward, but I would need to walk it honestly, step by step. The journey to full recovery wasn’t easy. There were moments when I wanted to give up. But every time I felt like I couldn’t go on, there was someone who reminded me that healing isn’t linear. My grief didn’t disappear, but I learned how to carry it without harming myself.

Two years have passed since that dark time, and now I’m an addict in recovery. Every day, I wake up with a sense of purpose to open my own interior design business and continue volunteering to help those in difficult situations. Every day, I meet people who feel lost and think their lives are over, and I see a reflection of who I once was. I share my story, hoping it will remind them they’re not alone and there’s still hope, even in the darkest periods. Eco Sober gave me my life back, and more importantly, it taught me how to live it with meaning.