You Do Not Need to be an Alcoholic for the Rest of Your Life

I once believed that there was no cure for alcoholism – even if I managed to stop drinking, I’d still be a recovering alcoholic. In this video I discuss the importance of letting go of the alcoholic identity in order to be truly free. Press play to watch the video, and you’ll find the podcast of this episode below.

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Why Am I Doing Another Juice Fast?

I wouldn’t care so much about being overweight if it wasn’t for how much it negatively impacts my energy levels and mental focus. It means I get less done, and my motivation for work and hobbies declines significantly. I’ve been trying to gain control of my weight for the last five years, and it is beginning to remind me a little too much of my battle with alcohol addiction. I don’t have any problem losing the weight (I’m up and down between 86kg / 190 pounds and 75kg/165 pounds like a yo-yo) but it is keeping it off that is the problem.

Sweet Potato, Celery, Ginger and Orange Juice 1of3 BJE200XL

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Letting Go of the Alcoholic Identity to Enjoy Real Freedom

The first time I uttered the words “I am an alcoholic”, I didn’t believe those words. I was a nineteen-year-old who felt coerced into going to his first AA meeting. I said it because I knew I was expected to. I saw it as just a bizarre ritual I’d need to perform in order to win back my girlfriend. I must have said ‘I am an alcoholic’ thousands of times over the next few years until eventually I started to believe it.

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The Day in the Treehouse When I Closed My Heart and Embraced Shame

I must have been seven years of age when I first experienced deep shame. A group of us were playing soldiers in the woods, and it was great fun despite the wet and cold. I’d only started hanging around with these kids a few weeks before, most of them were older, so I still felt like a bit of an outsider. One of the gang was called Mark. He was the same age as me, but he got on my nerves because of his loud and aggressive nature.

Mark decided to wrestle me to the ground. It was autumn, so I ended up face-down in heap of wet leaves. This was typical shit for him, and he expected his victims to just take it as a joke. I was a puny kid, but I felt angry, and I started throwing punches at him. I didn’t even know how to form a fist, but my anger scared him. The other guys stepped in to break up the fight.

Treehouse Roofing
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