THE BIGGEST LIE OF ALL

For years I told myself I couldn’t live without alcohol and that I’d never be free from its grasp. And I believed it. Until the moment I finally accepted, of all the lies I told myself, that was the biggest lie of all.

My recovery journey began on March 22, 2018. I have not had a drop of alcohol in all that time. What’s even more amazing is that I haven’t had any desire to return to that darkness.

Not once. 

There was a time in my life when I never thought I’d have a healthy relationship with food either. For decades I bounced between anorexia and bulimia. I over-exercised and hated my body. But, since the day I took my last drink, I’ve also made peace with that struggle. 

Even now, when those demons try to take hold of me, and they do, I’m sheltered. And it’s not just any shelter. It’s one built on faith. On knowing that I’m not alone. 

I trust in God with all that I am. He has never let me down.

Fear is a cunning liar. 

Until I surrendered and experienced the healing that comes with it, fear won. Every single time. No matter how often I tried. How many times I promised myself, “This would be my last drink,” or “my last binge.” It never was.

No matter how many times I believed that lie, my demons always won. 

I could go a week, maybe two, but then I’d “reward” myself with just one glass of wine or just one bite of cheesecake. That never worked out well for me. One always turned into two, then three, then more. Until I was right back where I started. 

That cycle dogged me for three decades. There were times I truly believed I’d die from the physical distress. Starving, throwing up blood, and blacking out is abusive. There’s no other word for it. I abused myself over and over again.

I was afraid. Not just of dying. I think I was more afraid of living. Or trying to live without those outlets. I truly believed I couldn’t. 

I believed that without my baggage, my story, and all the vices that came with it, I was nothing.

That’s the biggest lie I told myself.

And fear was the instrument that worked so hard to ensure I believed it. 

There’s only one place addiction, in every form, leads. Rock bottom is a place. I’ve been there. 

I’d fooled myself into believing that I’d never truly fall. So, when I found myself in the pit I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. It was dark. It was hopeless. I was terrified.

I’d never experienced despair so all encompassing I couldn’t breathe before. I’d never experienced fear so all consuming. At that moment there was only one thing I could do. The only thing. 

I hadn’t done it in so long I was afraid I wouldn’t be heard. More than that, I was afraid I didn’t deserve to be. 

But He heard me. He heard the first lines of the first prayer I prayed in a very long time. “God, help me, I can’t do this anymore.” I clung to those words. Repeated them over and over again. Added the words to every prayer I’d ever learned. They were torn from my soul. 

And God was right there. Where He’d always been.

I felt Him. Knew without any doubt that He was reaching out to me. That He was sheltering me.

It wasn’t a gradual thing either. It happened in an instant. In the lowliness of my circumstances, overwhelmed by the utter completeness of my fall, I finally heard Him.   

I had to hit rock bottom. There was no other way. Rock bottom is what it took for me to finally surrender.

Surrender is a tangible thing. The only thing stronger than the lies. Stronger than the fear.

Surrender is more than simply giving up control. It’s letting go. 

I cannot adequately describe in words the transformation I experienced the moment I surrendered completely. Except to say, the moment I laid it all down and chose to trust in God with all my being, I felt it. I felt the chains snap and the burdens lift. I felt the power of His grace and His unconditional love surround me. One moment I was lost in darkness. The next, I was cradled in the arms of peace.

I can’t explain it better than that.

I am here today, nearly eight years later, not because I changed. I’m here because the grace of God changed me. Rock Bottom stripped me of everything. Every illusion I’d ever had and every lie I’d ever believed. 

The moment I surrendered my chains were broken. Truth, in all its brilliance, was revealed. My faith grew until it triumphed over my fear.  The moment came and I finally knew, that all those years I’d told myself I’d never be free were the biggest lie of all, John 8:32.

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JN Fenwick (© 2025) | mothjournal14 | I do not walk this recovery journey alone. | Exodus 14:14