Just over two years ago, a second DUI forced me to confront a difficult question: Am I an alcoholic? I wasn’t a daily drinker, but when I drank, I couldn’t stop. Crushed by shame, I sought help.
My lawyer recommended a pricey, out-of-pocket program. I expected a supportive environment but found a 12-week virtual “treatment” with one overwhelmed counselor and nearly 50 participants, many disengaged. I was never asked to speak. It felt less like recovery and more like a money-making operation.
A friend guided me to a 12-step program, where I finally found understanding. Sitting in a room where others shared my experience, I had a moment of clarity: I am an alcoholic, and I need help. That community became my lifeline.
The program owner was all smiles at my court date until he was needed, then vanished, shrugging it off later with a grin. His indifference was sickening. I realized how many desperate people he likely profited from, offering a signature for court instead of genuine help.
I accepted the consequences of my actions, but that experience revealed a broken system. The “treatment” center prioritized revenue over recovery. I still wonder how many others were funneled into that same cycle, believing they were being helped when they were merely being used.
I recently celebrated two years of sobriety. My life is transformed, thanks to the 12-step program that helped me rebuild without judgment or cost. I’m grateful for my recovery, but I can’t forget how easily I could have been lost in a system that turns people’s pain into a paycheck. No one seeking recovery should ever be treated like a business opportunity.
