THE UNLOVEABLES
Overcoming Addiction, Chronic Illness, and Shame
Before I knew it, I was unrecognizeable.
My remission from Alcoholism
began on
Dec 20, 2020
How did I become an alcoholic?
I was born one. Alcohol use disorder has been recognized as a chronic, incurable, and potentially fatal disease by the American Medical Association since 1956. It runs in families along with heart disease, diabetes, and cancer, for which I knew I was at risk. But alcoholism, depression, and anxiety also run in my family, and never once did we discuss prevention or treatment.
We are told it is wrong and bad to drink excessively, but not why some of us can't stop after we start, and not what it feels like or looks like to be sinking into this disease. Most importantly, most of us are never told that we can and do recover, that the disease, with lifelong diligence, can remain in remission. My alcoholism has been in remission since December 27, 2020.
Eventually,
it was obvious
to everyone
but me.
Shame could have killed me many times over.
My denial was supported by evidence of a good life: I did well in school, went to elite institutions, had a successful career helping others with much responsibility from a young age, and led a full life filled with family and friends. I struggled with chronic illness, but I thought of these struggles as triumphs over adversity. Things didn't just look good; things were good for many of my life until they weren't. All because of stigma and its great fueler: shame. Shame could have killed me many times over.
This is the story about how I did not die just as much as it is about how I almost did and how that happened in a family teeming with doctors, and scientists, educators, and innovators. My sister and I lived through the Just Say No era, as well as countless health classes and school assemblies about the dangers of drugs. But alcohol? Alcohol was what everyone used to unwind, celebrate, mourn--it was ubiquitous and esteemed. Alcohol was normal.
"As a mother, it's hard to watch you talk about how much you suffered. But if it helps one person, then maybe it's worth it."
We were a family of academics educated in everything but anything considered taboo. And in many families, addiction is as taboo as it comes.
I am from an Indian immigrant family who quickly became "native" New Yorkers. Before embarking on this project, I had a series of conversations with my parents and sister, who have been unwavering supporters of my recovery. I told them I wanted to help people come out of the shadows and get help, but I would have to tell my secrets. I didn't want to hurt anyone or cause embarrassment and shame.
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And they did what my family has done time and time again: they took the leap of faith with me and supported me unconditionally. Occasionally, my mom will still lament how vulnerable I am on camera for the world to see. "As a mother, it's hard to watch you talk about how much you suffered. But if it helps one person, then maybe it's worth it."
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That's the hope. The whole point. If this helps one person, then it will ALL BE WORTH IT.