I’ve never done well dealing in the abstract. When I think of a house, I see piled foundations, timber floors, and gable roofs. I feel my hands running over the cracked paint flaking from the old weatherboard cladding—flecks of it catching under my nails, to be picked out and flicked away later. My ex-boyfriend would look at a house and think of security, stability, a home—the foundation of one's life.
Once, we were parked at a lookout in the Mackenzie Country. Earlier, he’d been debating with his friends about why something is perceived as beautiful. He was asking whether I found this cross-section of the Mackenzie Country beautiful because of my own preconceptions of beauty, or if it was beautiful in and of itself. I told him I liked the lupins and to keep driving.
I’ve felt a similar way when I’ve run in wellness scenes and circles. Connect, accept, release, Let. It. Go. All of these phrases with ambiguous definitions that could be applied to many situations. Connecting my phone to a USB cable or connecting to the Wi-Fi have very clear physical steps.
Connecting with my neighbour or, more importantly, to myself, is not a tangible process. I can’t run my fingers through the hair of my highest self or plant the sole of my boot on the dirt track of the journey I’m supposed to be embracing. No blue tick appears once I’ve successfully released or arrived.
My sponsor remembers the moment I decided I wanted to give living a proper go. She said I woke up one day and started to figure out what the practical steps were so I could make it happen. This was in 2023, and her only goal for me that year was to get me to Christmas—alive.
[Yes, I do think survival really depends on recognizing when you are about to lose your ability to choose what you want for yourself.]
Quote from It's Ottessa, Bitch Newsletter 01/04/25
There’s a principle in an NA (Narcotics Anonymous) text that says, “If it’s not practical, it’s not spiritual.” This means that spirituality isn’t just an abstract idea—it’s the small, practical actions we take in daily life. I found that NA was the first spiritual practice that put me in a position to admit I couldn't control everything. Some things, like my addiction, were beyond my control, and I needed to ask for help. At the same time, it was absolutely necessary for me to take full personal responsibility for my actions every single day.
This all happened while I was on the waitlist to get into rehab. The way I made it through that period of time was by writing checklists, reminders, posters, printing them, sticking them to the back of my wardrobe, keeping them pinned in the notes of my phone, and creating prints for my wall with sayings like ‘I’m coming through’.
This newsletter is going to focus on the first phase in staying alive—the ‘acute’ phase. This was me at my weakest, sickest and most desperate. So, the following sections are what I did each day to keep myself alive. The most important element in each phase had to be acceptance of reality and to just focus on that one phase day-by-day until I moved into the next.
1. Stop
I admitted that I was too sick to work, continue living with friends, pursue my Masters, or be in a functioning relationship. I admitted that I needed to put everything down for the time being. I found that the more I pushed to carry on as ‘normal,’ the worse I felt about myself and the more mess I created. I accepted that no good decisions are made in that state, and the kindest, most productive thing I could do was to stop—even when it hurt more than anything to walk away.
2. Asking for Help
It was very clear that I was not handling things well on my own. But asking for help meant admitting that to other people and then trusting that they wanted the best for me. Asking for help was an act of humility, and as a person obsessed with control, this was the most uncomfortable phase. Not feeling ‘self-sufficient’ still irks me, but it is unrealistic to believe that getting through this alone is either possible or fulfilling. I went to people I trusted and admired—people who I thought walked the walk and had experience and training in their chosen fields. I chose people who were willing to be honest with me, hold me to account, and treat me in a loving, respectful way, even if that meant saying the hard thing or calling me out. More importantly, I went to people who truly believed I could get through this and were willing to invest in me to help me get there.
3. Doing What I Was Told
Asking for advice and putting that advice into practice are two very different things. This was where the practicality of a spiritual practice really came in. With every decision I made—whether that was what time to wake up or choosing not to do drugs—I had to ask myself, "What is the next good thing?" And then, step by step, I would follow through with that. This helped massively in rebuilding the trust in myself. I’d gone for so long swearing, promising not to use, then immediately doing it, that I’d lost all faith in myself. Following instructions, sticking to routines, and fulfilling promises and agreements helped me regain some of that trust and confidence.
4. Acceptance of the Situation and That It Was Going to Take Time
For so long, I fought against who I was, my limitations, and the work required to heal. My psychologist once gave me a handout showing a person playing tug of war with a monster over a pit. The tug of war represents the struggle we face when trying to avoid difficult emotions, the monster symbolises those emotions, and the pit shows the suffering from this ongoing battle. "Dropping the rope"—letting go of the need to control or eliminate these emotions—meant freeing myself from the exhausting cycle of fighting something I couldn’t fully control or avoid. So, each day, I accepted that although something might be scary and painful, it was unavoidable, and my best option was to invite it in and work with it.
5. Taking Responsibility — Even When It Hurt
At my worst, it was incredibly difficult for me to see how my behaviour and decisions were affecting the people around me. I justified hurtful actions by telling myself that I had it harder than everyone else, so it really wasn’t my fault…
I think the number one reason my relationships are as strong as they are today is because I took responsibility for the harm I’d caused during this acute period. It was beyond painful to hear the people I loved the most tell me how I’d hurt them, and even harder to not jump into defence mode. Taking responsibility didn’t mean expecting immediate forgiveness and for things to go back to normal. To me, it meant listening, accepting my part in things, and taking action to make amends for the wrongs over time.
6. Taking It Day by Day (Minute by Minute)
The best way I can describe surviving a craving is like being desperate to go to the toilet, in agony, and arriving at the cubicle only to find it locked, with someone standing at the door telling you to hold on because it will pass. Sometimes, these cravings would begin, run their cycle, and then start all over again—day after day. It was hell, and the only way I made it through was by repeating steps 1-5 every day, in every situation. It was impossible to imagine a future when I had no evidence that things could be different. Instead, I took things minute by minute, assessing each decision by asking what the next right thing to do was.
Writing this was a good reminder. I’ve been blindsided by a number of unexpected physical health issues this year (I’ll be writing about my bowel obstruction in a future newsletter). My energy isn’t where I want it to be, and I am struggling with that. It feels as though for every unit spent, there is a proportionate fallout. If I want a night out, I need to factor in 2-3 days of bed rest. It’s frustrating, and that’s the reason this newsletter is being sent out on a Wednesday—I chose to dance all night with my friends at the Single Fin Mingle.
So, thank you so very much to all who have read through to the end, and an even bigger thank you to those who have subscribed. I’ve been overwhelmed (in the best possible way) by the feedback on Trainwrecks, and I feel like I’m only just warming up. If there’s anything you’d like me to cover, feel free to leave a comment or send me a message!
Thanks again, and all of my love,
Charlotte x
Thank you for such an incredible piece of writing - for its honesty, for its clarity and for its ability to speak light into a dark place that others may also be experiencing. Keep these words coming! I can’t get enough xx