Rekindling the soul
Welcome to the Soulfire Rekindled blog, a space for honesty, rawness, and the journey toward recovery. Join me as I share the highs, the lows, and everything in between. My story starts from the bottom up, so head there if you want to join me from the beginning or pick and choose whatever post resonates with you. As ugly/ painful as it may get, I promise to be an open book. It's the only way to heal - complete honesty. And for the first time in my 45 years... that's what I intend to do.
Confronting the demons..
It's 9.16 on Monday morning and I'm writing this post literally shaking. In 2 hours I have my first counselling session and Im absolutely terrified. I have been to counselling at various points in my life and I believe it works....however, I have never been completely honest in any previous sessions. I haven't lied, simply omitted the darkest facts. Why? Embarrassment, shame, guilt.
Today is the first step to confronting my demons. I can recognise that my fear this morning is based on the fact that I intend to be 100% honest, not leave a thing out. I know the only way I am going to beat this is if I turn myself over to the process and let the counselling help with my healing.
Its such a default setting for me to block things out, to drink to numb myself. It almost feels so ingrained I wonder how it can possibly ever be different.
The hope is definitely there but right now, the demons are trying their absolute best to railroad me.
A week on..
It's 2.17am on Wednesday morning. What was happening a week ago at this time, I have no recollection. At some point, I took the pills. At some point, my girlfriend rushed to be with me. It scares me to think what happened and what could of happened. But there is also another feeling... one I haven't felt in a very long time. Hope.
I say hope because I have finally laid my soul bare and been truthful about everything (yes.... there was a lot of lying.. out of shame, fear, guilt, a need to protect my access to alcohol... the list goes on... and one I will discuss more later). As terrifying as it was, out of fear of judgement or punishment, a wonderful thing has happened. Those who love you, won't judge you. They will share in the relief you feel at finally being honest about everything.
Those that truly love you, will rally around you and be your number one supporters. Its a reaction and feeling I never in my wildest dreams thought would happen.
Have I lost friendships because of my drinking? Absolutely. Have those people walked away because of my behaviour and my decisions? Absolutely. But here is the key; instead of feeling anger towards those people that left, it has added fuel to my fire to get well. I can't be angry at them as a) I hurt them. They have a right to protect themselves, and b) If I give my energy towards being angry at them, I am actually taking focus and energy away from my recovery journey. And I need to protect that at all costs.
Things I have learned in this past week:
- I have to own my recovery journey. No one else can do the hard work, except for me. Yes - loved ones will support you, but ultimately it is me and only me that can get better.
- There is so much (free) professional support out there. Every professional I have spoken to has placed zero judgement on me and genuinely, just as I do, wants to see me get well.
- There is an indescribable freedom I have experienced in 100% honesty.
- Stay busy!! My beautiful friend Niko (not his real name), sat with me a few days after 'that fateful night' and we were talking about intrusive thoughts and coping mechanisms. I asked him how he coped when his thoughts became overwhelming, and his answer was simple 'Stay busy. Find your passion again, what do you love doing?'. Without thinking I replied çooking and baking. "So do that. Every time you feel like picking up the bottle, bake something". Boy, have I taken his words to heart. My husband's cholesterol is not thanking me right now!
- Put a plan in place. In the past week I have met with the Acute Mental Health team, booked counselling, booked in for an assessment with CADS (more info here), and met with my boss (who was, quite simply extraordinarily supportive).
- Be kind to yourself. I have been waging a war for the last 25 years and Im battle weary. I understand that now, more than ever, I have to show myself kindness. For me, it can be a simple as sitting in the sun, walking my dogs, being still. It's those little moments that can help boost me past those wobbly moments.
I am a plethora of emotions right now.. scared, anxious, worried, but, the strongest feeling I have right now, quite simply is hope. And that is an incredibly beautiful thing.
Grief, in all its forms...
When I was 18, I met my first boyfriend (yep, a late bloomer). Boys weren't interested in me in high school, which suited me just fine. I was a sport billy... playing or training 7 days a week, I had zero interest in boys, or being one of those girly girls who dedicated their waking hours to throwing themselves at boys. It was only when I left high school that I met my first boyfriend - unsurprisingly, playing sport.
Being that I had zero experience with boys, and he was 26, my smitten self believed that everything he was doing and saying was exactly how love was meant to be. That, coupled with my only experience of relationships being witnessing my Mum and Dad's relationship, I believed my role was to essentially be the textbook perfect girlfriend.
Now, my parents never fought. I never heard a terse word between them. I know now, as a grown woman, that this is not realistic and that any conflict they had was kept behind closed doors. That's because their generation were taught to not show emotions (other than pure domestic bliss) and while there are admirable qualities about this, I also realise now that it left me with a perception of relationships that no matter what, you stay.
Hence how I found myself, in my first relationship ever, with a narcissistic, manipulative abuser. And believed it was 'true love'.
Love bombing followed by vicious beatings became a pattern. He was always so sorry and showered me with gifts. So convincing. So charming. Everybody loved him. No one would believe me if I told them what was really happening. And plus - you don't talk about those things. You put up and shut up.
Not for one second, would my parents not have scooped me up and protected me, but they never had the chance, because they never knew.
What I witnessed as a child was 'You get together and you stay together' so I believed my only option was to stay with him.
This was my first true encounter with grief. I grieved the happy, sporty outgoing person I was. Not a care in the world and her whole life ahead of her. I was now a shell of a human, existing to please a man that claimed to love me.... but his hands around my neck would say otherwise.
Grief is not just about death - it's about the loss of something, anything. And for me, the loss of myself is where I started to numb myself. A pattern that would continue for the next 25 years.
How did I end up here?
It's the question I have been asking myself over and over again. How on earth do I, when I had every chance, every opportunity to become a happy, non addicted, content person, end up a person with Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD - you can read more about it here) that attempted to exit this mortal coil - without any knowledge of what drove me to it?
My addiction story is not what you normally hear. As a child, I wasn't beaten, I wasn't abused, I had an idyllic childhood with two parents that utterly adored each other and us children. We didn't have a lot of money growing up but as a kid you don't have a concept of money. We were fiercely loved and had everything we needed to be happy.
My mother was, and will forever be, the most incredible human to have ever graced the face of this planet. A fiery and passionate South African that met my rugby loving Waikato man through and through, Dad, when she was just 17.
She is my idol. Her capacity to love, embrace all humans, care for people and consistently put everyone ahead of herself made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. It doesn't matter if you were a person of great standing in the community or the rubbish man - she had this ability to make everyone feel like they were so special.
Being the only girl in the family, my Mother and I were exceptionally close. I wanted to grow up and be just like her. Little did I know at the tender age of 8, that by the time I was 15, she would be diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. A diagnosis that my parents didn't tell us about initially as they tried to protect us. Looking back now, I have incredibly complex feelings about this. I understand a parents need to protect, but to me, it's a far worse outcome to only find out relatively soon before she died, that she was terminal from the beginning.
And this is where I have learned that every self destructive, negative behaviour and poor decision that I have ever displayed in my (incredibly colourful, sometimes downright scary, often complex) life, stems from one extraordinarily powerful thing. Grief.
Grief has consistently permeated my life and at no point, did I ever learn the tools to cope with this. Instead, I chose to numb myself. Because if you're numb, you can't hurt right?
The problem with that though, is if you don't feel pain, you also rob yourself of feeling joy.
That fateful night..
On the 12th November 2025 (yes, 6 days ago), my life irrevocably changed forever. I found that elusive place that no one is actively searching for or ever wants to visit. Absolute rock bottom.
Years of loss, grief and alcohol addiction swirled into an imperfect storm that led me to overdosing on Panadol. And the scary thing? I have zero memory of any of it happening... of making the decision, or even waking up the morning and thinking I had any thoughts of harming myself. That is how pervasive and damaging alcohol abuse had become for me.
Recounted back to me... I apparently messaged two friends, wrote my husband a goodbye letter, and took an undetermined amount of panadol.
My girlfriend responded to my text and rushed over at midnight. Her husband was frantically calling me, begging me to pick up my phone.
No one knows when I took them (including myself) and by the grace of the universe, there are a series of events that quite literally saved my life.
My husband was on early shift that morning and found the note - confused, he came into the room where my girlfriend was holding me and asked if everything was okay.
He then, for reasons unknown to him or anyone else, instinctively checked the bin and found the empty packets.
My husband is a pre hospital emergency worker so immediately scooped me up, and rushed me down to hospital. He said at one point I had completely lost consciousness and no amount of shaking or sternum rubbing would rouse me. He thought he had lost me. The thought of his anguish absolutely haunts me.
My first vague memories of anything were briefly waking up in hospital, doctors asking me questions that didn't make any sense and then drifting in and out of consciousness while they had me on a drip for 20 hours.
How? How does a 45 year old woman, with a loving husband, a home, pets, friends and family that love her, a career and a beautiful life, ever end up in this position?
That's what I intend to unpack... to bare my soul and normalise the inner turmoil that we suffer as humans when we supposedly 'have it all'. I wish, more than anything, that decades ago I had the support and tools to be able to cope with the greatest suffering in my life. Grief.
You are not alone. We can do this together. Let's stand up and fight for our lives. This is what I intend to do from this day forward and I am going to share the good, the bad and the ugly - come with me and lets do it together.