You know that quiet voice that says, “It’s not that bad,” while you’re popping a Xanax with your morning coffee? It’s a lie. A very convincing one, too. The same one that tells you you’re being productive while buzzing on your fourth espresso and that Adderall you “borrowed” from your friend. It whispers that you deserve a glass of wine after bedtime battles, which becomes half the bottle, which becomes the whole bottle, which becomes every night, then every afternoon, too. We lie to ourselves because the truth feels messy, and we’re too busy holding everyone else’s mess to deal with our own.
I Need It To Sleep
Insomnia is a beast, and it’s easy to justify that extra pill to hush the 3 a.m. brain spin. The one that replays the awkward comment you made in a meeting two years ago, your kid’s meltdown in Target, or that medical bill you’re ignoring. You’re telling yourself, “I need it to sleep,” because you can’t bear the thought of lying there with your heart pounding under the weight of everything you’re carrying. But night after night, the pills stop working the way they did, and suddenly, you’re wide awake and more anxious than before, needing more to get the same knock-out. The lie grows legs, and you find yourself explaining away your stash in your nightstand, in your purse, and in the back of your kitchen junk drawer. You’re not alone if you’ve told yourself this lie, but you’re also not free from what it’s costing you.
I’m Just Taking The Edge Off
The “edge” these days feels like a cliff. Work deadlines, kids’ schedules, aging parents, your own health falling apart quietly in the background, the mental load that nobody else seems to see. So you tell yourself that a gummy, a glass of wine, or a little something to take the edge off is normal, deserved, even healthy. This lie is easy to believe because, for a while, it works. The problem is it starts to work too well, and now you’re organizing your day around when you can have it again. You’re looking forward to that drink with a kind of single-minded focus that doesn’t feel like you, but you dismiss it, calling it self-care. You find yourself hiding addiction in cute, branded canisters and wine tumblers, laughing it off with your friends while wondering why your anxiety is getting worse, not better. The lie is that it’s harmless, but you know in your gut it’s not.
I’m Still Showing Up, So It’s Fine
Women are masters at functioning while falling apart. You’re still going to work, packing lunches, keeping the house looking somewhat normal, even if your mind feels like static by the afternoon. You tell yourself it’s fine because you’re still “showing up.” You’re not living under a bridge, you’re not losing your kids, you’re not calling out of work, so you convince yourself you don’t have a problem. The truth is that high-functioning addiction is still addiction. The functioning part is just you delaying the crash, and the longer you wait, the messier it gets. This lie thrives because you’re still managing everything. Until you’re not. And that’s when the bottom drops out, and you’re left wondering how it got so bad, so fast.
I’ll Stop When Things Calm Down
Things don’t calm down. There’s always another crisis, another birthday party, another busy season at work, another late-night worry spiral about your teenager or your aging parents. The “I’ll stop when” lie is sneaky because it gives you permission to keep going just a little longer. It tells you the timing isn’t right, that you need it for now, that you’ll deal with it later. But later doesn’t come, and the reasons to keep using pile up until the reasons to quit feel flimsy in comparison. This is where many women get stuck, waiting for a magical calm that never shows up, while the addiction quietly cements itself into every corner of your life.
There’s a reason you’re seeing more women quietly seeking addiction treatment in DFW, D.C. or anywhere in between. It’s not because they’re weak or failures or bad moms. It’s because they’ve stopped waiting for things to calm down and started choosing to reclaim their lives, even in the middle of chaos. They’ve stopped listening to the lie that “later” will save them and decided that now is the only time that counts.
It’s Not Really Addiction
Ah, the classic. “It’s not really an addiction; I just enjoy it.” You tell yourself you could quit anytime, but you don’t. You’re not drinking in the morning, but you’re counting down to five o’clock. You’re not using hard drugs, just prescription pills, or just gummies, or just wine, or just… whatever helps you cope. The lie that it’s not really addiction is easy to believe because you’re comparing yourself to the extreme stories on TV, not to what your own life would look like if you were honest. The line between “habit” and “addiction” is thinner than you think, and the best way to find out where you stand is to try stopping for a while. If you can’t, that’s your sign. If you don’t want to, that’s your sign, too.
Worth Every Step
The hardest part isn’t quitting. It’s admitting you need to. It’s admitting the lies you’ve told yourself because you’re tired, overworked, lonely, or scared. It’s letting yourself be human enough to say, “This isn’t working for me anymore,” even if everyone around you is doing the same thing and calling it normal. Recovery is messy, and it won’t fix your life overnight, but it will give you back the parts of yourself that you’ve been drowning in wine or numbing with pills. It will give you back your mornings, your energy, your clarity, and your freedom.
It’s easy to believe the lies. It’s easy to keep going, even when your gut is telling you it’s time to stop. But you don’t have to stay stuck in that loop forever. Choosing honesty over the lie is worth every shaky, terrifying, beautiful step forward.
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