Contributing Writer – Briyenna Souter

Do you believe in addictions beyond drugs and alcohol?

Because I do—and not just as a concept, but through lived experience. Addiction doesn’t always show up in the way society expects it to. It isn’t always found in a bottle or a pill. Sometimes, it’s hidden in shopping carts, in the fridge at 2 a.m., or in the chaos of reckless decisions. I know, because I’ve been there. I am there.

Yes, I’m an alcoholic. That’s part of my truth. But it’s not the whole story. Alongside alcohol, I’ve battled addictions to food, spending, emotional chaos, and self-destructive behavior. These aren’t just “bad habits” or moments of poor judgment—they’re patterns I’ve leaned on to escape myself. Patterns that blur the lines between the person I am and the person I want to be, especially now, as someone trying to live sober.

Beyond the Bottle

These behaviors make me feel like the utmost shit, to be honest. And what’s crazy is that many people go their whole lives without even thinking twice about the kind of behaviors that consume me daily. For them, it might just be a little retail therapy. A wild weekend. A skipped meal. But for me, it’s a spiral. It’s shame. It’s regret.

Maybe once I fully commit to the 12-step program, I’ll start to understand where these behaviors come from. Maybe I’ll find tools to cope that don’t leave me feeling empty afterward. Because right now, it feels like I’m constantly failing the very life I’m trying to protect—my sober life. And that hurts more than anyone can understand.

The Cost of Toxic Love

Looking back, my morals were pushed—no, obliterated—past places I thought were off-limits. There was a time when I considered changing my religion just to feel accepted by someone who was, in reality, emotionally dismantling me. Narcissistic abuse is no joke. It’s insidious. It’s silent. It convinces you that you’re the problem, that being broken down is somehow the same as being loved.

I didn’t fall into one narcissistic relationship—I fell into several. I was surrounded. And I didn’t care how much damage I was causing myself, because their attention—even when it was conditional and toxic—felt better than being invisible. I watched them keep up with their everyday lives while I bent and broke just to be seen in theirs.

Honestly? I still don’t know what I was thinking. Who does that? Who strips away everything they know, believe, and stand for just to be tolerated?

I tried honesty in at least one of those relationships. I laid it all out, from A to Z. I took the vulnerable route, thinking that if I brought my whole self to the table, it would create something real. But it didn’t. Some people will always cross boundaries, no matter how honest you are. And it taught me something painful: not everyone who says they care actually does.

Beginning Again

This isn’t the life I was meant for. This isn’t why I’m here.

There are days now when I look back and can’t even recognize the person I was. The things I allowed, the parts of myself I gave away, the shame I carried like it was mine to own—it makes me sick. Disgusted. Horrible.

But here’s the thing: recognizing all of that is the start of something. It doesn’t erase the pain, but it grounds me. It gives me a place to begin again. A foundation. A reminder that maybe, just maybe, I deserve a life that doesn’t hurt to live.

I’m learning. I’m unlearning. And I’m trying—one step, one moment, one honest word at a time.

Briyenna Souter is a peer advocate in recovery for nearly a year and a half, dedicated to supporting others on their healing journeys. With a keep passion for nature walks, meditation, yoga, and metaphysics, she brings a grounded and holistic approach to her work. Certified in three levels of Reiki, Briyenna is also a gifted psychic medium, a talent passed down through her lineage. She is committed to fostering healing, self-discovery, and meaningful connections in all aspects of life.