Addiction often feels like an impossible maze with no way out. The statistics can be staggering, but behind every number is a human story of struggle, loss, and, sometimes, an incredible journey toward hope. In a powerful episode of the Giving Voice to Addiction podcast, Eli bravely shares his personal 13-year battle with a severe cocaine addiction.
This article, inspired by his raw and honest account, delves into the powerful lessons he learned after losing everything—his job, his relationship, and his sense of self. It is a testament to the fact that while recovery is far from easy, a life of connection and authenticity is not only possible but infinitely more fulfilling.
Eli’s journey into addiction began like many others—with what seemed like a casual, recreational choice. He was no stranger to drug use, but when he tried cocaine for the first time, he knew it was different. “When I did cocaine for the first time,” he says, “I knew that that was the one that I was gonna stick with.”
What started as a weekend activity at parties quickly escalated. As he found his own dealer and access became easy, the line between casual use and full-blown addiction blurred. Over time, Eli spiraled into a daily habit of using two to three grams of cocaine. The final years were particularly dark. He became malnourished, went days without sleep, and experienced psychosis and hallucinations.
For many people, the first step toward recovery is admitting there’s a problem. For Eli, it wasn’t that simple. His addiction had become so ingrained that it felt like a part of his identity. He had to reach a point where he realized his life was in imminent danger. “It took me realizing that I was gonna die to finally allow myself to seek help,” he explains. The willingness to accept death over recovery is a testament to the powerful, insidious nature of addiction. It’s a point where the substance isn’t just a habit; it’s a warped sense of identity and security.
Eli describes himself as a “sneaky drug addict,” a phrase many in active addiction use to justify their behavior and believe they are still in control. For a while, he managed to hold on to his job, his relationships, and his home. But as the addiction progressed, the facade began to crumble. He lost his relationships, was fired from his job, and was on the verge of being evicted. “It all came crashing down,” he reflects. “I had nothing left.”
This crash, while devastating, became a critical turning point. It forced him to confront the reality that he could no longer maintain the illusion of control. He was so deep into the lifestyle of addiction that the thought of giving it up was terrifying. He was addicted not just to the drug itself, but to the entire lifestyle that came with it—the rush of breaking the law, the preparation, and the pursuit. As he aptly puts it, “Quitting is losing your best friend.” The idea of living without this “friend,” which had been a constant companion for 13 years, was “strangely heartbreaking.”
The decision to seek treatment wasn’t an easy one for Eli. Despite losing everything, he was still hesitant. Death seemed like an easier option than recovery because he couldn’t imagine a different way of life. He describes a powerful moment that finally shook him from his denial: his mother came into his apartment and threw a bag of Narcan at him, saying, “Hopefully you won’t die.”
This moment of stark reality, combined with the loss of his job and home, pushed him to commit to a residential treatment program. He was given little time to change his mind—just 10 days before he could be admitted. This quick turnaround was a “blessing,” as any more time would have likely led to a change of heart.
Eli uses the term “surrendering” instead of “going” to treatment, and this distinction is profound. Surrendering, he explains, means you have to be willing to change your entire life. It’s not just about stopping drug use; it’s about digging deep to find the root causes of the addiction. It means letting go of the false beliefs that fueled the addiction, such as “I’m not good enough” or “I don’t deserve better.”
This act of surrender requires a level of vulnerability that is often foreign to people with addiction. “You have to allow yourself to be completely vulnerable,” he says. “You have to take advice. That’s something that addicts don’t do. We don’t listen to anybody but ourselves because there’s no reason to.”
A pivotal moment in Eli’s journey was meeting a life coach and peer support specialist named Roger, two days before he was scheduled to enter treatment. Eli was skeptical that anyone could change his life, but Roger challenged him from the start.
Eli had been telling himself, “I don’t want to be a drug addict.” Roger responded with a simple, but profound truth: “Eli, you are a drug addict. You always will be a drug addict, but you can change and you can live a life of recovery.” This statement was a paradigm shift for Eli. He had always believed his only options were to be an addict or to be a miserable, sober person who was “white-knuckling” his way through life.
However, seeing Roger, who shared intimate details of his own recovery journey, provided a powerful visual of what a recovered life could look like. It wasn’t just about survival; it was about thriving. This personal connection showed Eli that a life filled with emotional and spiritual connection was possible.
Eli’s experience in residential treatment taught him the importance of structure and routine. He found the repetitious nature of the program, such as daily check-in sheets, to be surprisingly effective. At first, it seemed tedious, but he soon realized that this routine was training him for life outside of the facility.
“That repetition and the structure… that was gearing me for the real world,” he says. This daily discipline, even in small tasks like making his bed or taking a shower, helped him build a foundation for a productive life. Idle time, he learned, can be a major trigger for relapse. By keeping himself busy and engaged, he could prevent his thoughts from spiraling back into old, destructive patterns. A structured approach to recovery is often a key component of successful treatment programs.
A key lesson Eli learned is the difference between sobriety and recovery. Sobriety is simply not using. Recovery, on the other hand, is an ongoing process of self-improvement and growth. “Sobriety is being, you know, you’re not using, recovering is using the tools that you have gained to make yourself a better person,” he explains.
Recovery requires a deep dive into the root causes of addiction. Eli calls drugs and alcohol “the solution,” not the problem. They were his way of coping with underlying issues, such as past trauma or feelings of inadequacy. True recovery involves finding new, healthy solutions to take their place. For him, this was about connection. Once he stopped isolating himself and began to connect with others—family, old friends, and new people—his recovery truly took off.
For a long time, Eli was not living for himself; he was living for his addiction. He was a manipulative, hard-shelled person who would push people away. Today, he is a different person entirely. He can look people in the eye, feel vulnerable, and genuinely connect with others. He is now living for the ability to be in his family’s lives and to form honest relationships.
Eli highlights a powerful truth about recovery: the joy and fulfillment of a sober life far outweigh the fleeting, manipulative power of active addiction. He describes the power of a sober life as “not tangible, but you can feel it.” This power is not about control over others; it’s about giving power to others by allowing them into your life. The power of a destructive lifestyle is a one-sided, fleeting feeling, but the power of recovery is a shared, lasting connection that he wouldn’t trade for anything.
One of the most poignant moments in the podcast is when Eli talks about his complex relationship with cocaine. He loved it, but he knows “it never loved me back.” He compares it to a one-sided relationship. The drug was always there for him, a constant presence for 13 years, but it was a destructive force that took everything from him.
This profound realization—that his addiction was a love affair with something that would only ever hurt him—is a powerful insight. While the memory of the high never truly leaves him, he now has the tools to understand that it is not what he wants or needs. Difficult times still happen, but they are now manageable because he has learned how to cope without his destructive “solution.”
In just six months, Eli has made more personal progress than he did in 13 years of active addiction. He is now facing a new challenge—leaving town for a job, which will test his newfound independence and the strength of his recovery. He looks forward to coming back and celebrating nine months of sobriety, a testament to his dedication and hard work.
Eli’s story is a message of profound hope. He wants people to know that recovery is possible, even when death seems easier. He reminds us that while we may have done bad things, we are not bad people; we are often just lost.
Eli’s journey shows us that finding a new path is about surrendering, embracing vulnerability, and, most importantly, building genuine connections with the people and the world around you.
We believe everyone deserves access to accurate, unbiased information about mental health and recovery. That’s why we have a comprehensive set of treatment providers and don't charge for inclusion. Any center that meets our criteria can list for free. We do not and have never accepted fees for referring someone to a particular center. Providers who advertise with us must be verified by our Research Team and we clearly mark their status as advertisers.
Our goal is to help you choose the best path for your recovery. That begins with information you can trust.