"Am I Actually Addicted?" - A No-BS Guide from Someone Who's Been There, Done That, and Now Has the Counseling Degree to Prove It

"Am I Actually Addicted?" - A No-BS Guide from Someone Who's Been There, Done That, and Now Has the Counseling Degree to Prove It

Look, I've got a unique view on this whole "am I actually addicted?" question. Not just because I've spent the last six years as a substance use counselor, but because I asked myself the same damn question back when I was convinced I had everything "totally under control." (Narrator: I did not, in fact, have anything under control.)

Here's the thing - before I was the one giving the advice, I was the one trying to convince my own counselor that I only did everything under the sun on "special occasions." (Plot twist: I considered making it through Tuesday a special occasion.) Now, with both personal recovery and professional experience under my belt, I'm going to translate the official diagnostic criteria into what I call "oh shit, that's me" moments - no sugar coating, no BS, just real talk from someone who's been on both sides of the desk.

1. Losing Your Off Switch (AKA The "Just One More" Lie)
   Official term: Impaired Control
   Real talk:

   • You've said "just two drinks" so many times your friends have turned it into a drinking game
   • Your dealer is saved in your phone as "DO NOT CALL - SERIOUSLY" (yet here we are)
   • "I'll start fresh Monday" has become such a frequent phrase you're considering getting it tattooed
   • You keep using even when your internal voice is screaming "DUDE, NO" in five different languages

2. The Incredible Shrinking Life (Where Did Everybody Go?)
   Official term: Social Impairment
   Real talk:

   • Your group chat thinks you died six months ago
   • Your boss's "can we talk?" emails are piling up faster than your laundry
   • Your Amazon Prime driver is literally your most consistent relationship
   • Your only friends are people you'd never trust to watch your phone

3. The Risk vs. Reward Equation Gets Fuzzy (Or: Decisions That Would Make Your Mother Cry)
   Official term: Risky Use
   Real talk:

   • You've got more hiding spots than a squirrel with a hoarding problem
   • That dealer who looks like a rejected extra from Breaking Bad? Suddenly seems trustworthy at 3 AM
   • Driving while high because "I actually drive better this way" (Narrator: They don't)
   • You're mixing substances with the confidence of a mad scientist and the wisdom of a potato

4. Your Body's Getting Real With You (The Physical Rebellion)
   Official term: Pharmacological Indicators
   Real talk:

   • Your tolerance is so high you could probably drink a frat house under the table
   • Without your morning "fix," you shake more than a chihuahua in a snowstorm
   • You need substances just to achieve what most people call "slightly below average"
   • The thought of running out gives you the kind of panic usually reserved for seeing your ex in public

Here's the thing about addiction - and this is where my harm reduction perspective comes in: You don't need to hit rock bottom to deserve help. Rock bottom is just the place where you stop digging. Some people have a basement, others have a wine cellar, but everyone's bottom is different.

The Reality Check (The "Where You At?" Scale):

• Mild: 2-3 boxes checked (Your life's getting messy)
• Moderate: 4-5 boxes checked (Your life's about as organized as a tornado in a trailer park)
• Severe: 6+ boxes checked (Your life's gone full dumpster fire)

What They Don't Tell You in Counseling School (But I Learned the Hard Way):
These patterns show up differently for everyone. Maybe you're still crushing your career while your personal life looks like a reality TV show gone wrong. Or maybe you're maintaining perfect Instagram appearances while your bank account screams in terror every time you hit up your dealer.

Why This Matters:
Getting real about where you're at isn't about joining the "my life is a mess" club (though meetings do have great snacks). It's about understanding your relationship with substances so you can make informed decisions. Maybe that means quitting, maybe that means cutting back, or maybe that just means not mixing tequila with decisions about your ex.

The Bottom Line:
If you're reading this thinking, "Well, shit," welcome to the club. You're not broken, you're not doomed, and you're definitely not alone. You're just human, and humans sometimes get tangled up with substances. It happens. What matters is what you do next.

Next Steps:

• Talk to someone who isn't currently high (professional preferred, but hey, baby steps)
• Track your use (there are apps for this - technology finally doing something useful)
• Think about what safer use looks like (because "YOLO" isn't actually a harm reduction strategy)
• Remember: asking for help isn't admitting defeat - it's more like calling tech support for your life

Remember, as someone who's been on both sides of this fence: Progress isn't about perfection. It's about being slightly less messy today than you were yesterday. And sometimes, that starts with simply asking, "Damn, am I actually addicted?"

And if you're still not sure? That's what professionals like me are for. We're basically like substance use Sherlocks, minus the cool hat. (Though I've been lobbying for office deerstalkers for years.) Trust me, whatever you're going through, I've either done it, seen it, or heard a story about it that would make your current situation look like a Disney movie.-Belle-

 

When Death Keeps Showing Up Uninvited: A Not-So-Gentle Guide to Grief

Death is like that annoying relative who shows up at the worst possible moments, doesn't call ahead, and leaves your entire life in disarray. Except you can't just hide in your bedroom until they leave.

I should know. By 25, I'd lost my first set of parents, then lost the other set before I hit 40. Yeah, you read that right – both sets. Life has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

First went my adoptive parents (who were actually my grandparents, but try explaining that family tree at parties). Bob and Betty – the ones who raised me, dealt with my teenage drama, and tried their best to maintain that picture-perfect family facade while our dysfunction simmered underneath like a pot about to boil over. They were both gone by 2008, and let me tell you, I handled it with all the grace of a drunk elephant on roller skates. (maybe I was the drunk elephant on roller skates actually)

I did what any reasonable person would do: completely lost my shit, dove headfirst into drugs, strip clubs, affairs and traded one toxic relationship for an even worse one. Because apparently, when life hands you lemons, sometimes you decide to squeeze them in your own eyes.

Then 2020 happened. Because the universe wasn't done with its cosmic joke, both my biological parents – who I'd reconnected with – died within three months of each other. If grief was a Netflix series, this would be the point where viewers would call bullshit on the writers.

Here's the thing they don't tell you about grief: it's as unique as a fingerprint and just as messy. There's no "five stages and you're done" warranty. It's more like a choose-your-own-adventure book where all the choices kind of suck, but you have to pick something anyway.

Some days, you're fine. You're adulting like a champion, paying bills, wearing matching socks, maybe even remembering to water your plants. Then boom – you're sobbing in your car because a song came on that your dad used to sing badly in the shower, or you find an old voicemail from your mom that you forgot to delete.

As an addiction counselor (plot twist, right?), I've seen grief wear many masks. It disguises itself as anger, numbness, workaholism, or that sudden urge to completely reorganized your sock drawer at 3 AM. Sometimes it shows up as a bottle, a needle, or whatever poison people choose to numb the pain. But here's the kicker – grief is like a game of whack-a-mole. The more you try to smack it down, the more it pops up somewhere else.

So what do we do? How do we navigate this mess without completely losing our marbles?

First, let's throw out the rulebook. There's no "right" way to grieve. If you need to ugly cry while watching cat videos, do it. If you need to laugh at a funeral because your brain short-circuits and you remember something ridiculous, that's okay too (just maybe try to do it quietly).

Second, grief isn't just about death. It's about endings. Leaving jobs, ending relationships, getting sober – these are all little deaths in their own way. Each one deserves its moment of recognition, even if society tells you to "just get over it."

Here's what I've learned from my own personal grief circus:

1. The pain doesn't really go away – you just build a bigger life around it. Some days it's a whisper, others it's a marching band in your head.

2. Dark humor helps. A lot. Death is already awkward enough without trying to be solemn all the time.

3. It's okay to not be okay. Really. The whole "staying strong" thing is overrated. Sometimes being strong means crying in the bathroom at work or eating cereal for dinner three nights in a row.

As I plan my wedding (yes, life goes on, surprisingly), I've got these little locket pins for my dress to hold pictures of my parents – all four of them. Because grief and joy often share the same space, like roommates who don't particularly like each other but have learned to coexist.

For those of you reading this who are in the thick of it – whether you're grieving a person, a relationship, a version of yourself, or something else entirely – I see you. This shit is hard. It's okay to stumble. It's okay to fall. Just try not to set up permanent residence in the pit.

And remember, grief is proof that love existed. It's the price we pay for caring about people. Is it worth it? Most days, yes. On the days it's not, well, that's what ice cream and questionable Netflix choices are for.

Keep breathing. Keep moving. And when you can't do either, that's okay too. Tomorrow's another day to try again.

Because in the end, we're all just walking each other home, aren't we? Even if some of us are stumbling, some are taking detours, and some of us are pretending we're not completely lost.

Welcome to the grief club. The membership fee sucks, but the company's not half bad.-Belle-

Join clinician Belinda Bickford and I in redefining substance use disorder treatment through personalized approaches. Our latest blog explores how to meet clients where they are and why it matters. Check it out here: https://lnkd.in/gjD8w9d4 #SubstanceUseDisorder #MentalHealthProfessionals #TreatmentApproaches

When Rock Bottom Has a Basement: A Real Talk About Community-Based Recovery in Wisconsin

Let's face it - if you're reading this, you're probably not having your best day. Maybe you're the one fighting the battle, maybe you're watching someone you love wage war with addiction, or maybe you're a professional wondering why your coffee maker isn't dispensing vodka yet. Wherever you're at, pull up a chair. We need to talk about something that's actually working in the world of recovery: community-based support.

"But wait," you say, "isn't community support just a fancy term for awkward church basement meetings and stale cookies?" Not anymore, friends. Not anymore.

The Revolution Is Local (And It's Not Taking Insurance)

Here in Wisconsin, we're doing something different. While the rest of the country is still arguing about whether addiction is a moral failing or a disease (spoiler alert: it's neither - it's more like that one relative who shows up uninvited and refuses to leave), we're building a recovery ecosystem that actually makes sense.

Take WisHope Recovery Center, for example. Founded by Peter Brunzelle, a guy who's actually been there (yes, really), WisHope was created because, as Brunzelle puts it, "there wasn't a place where one could go for treatment that supported multiple pathways to recovery." Translation: They figured out that not everyone gets sober the same way. Mind-blowing, right?

The Northern Woods Are Getting Wiser

Up in the Northwoods (where the bears are more understanding than some therapists), things are changing. Vilas County and its neighbors are rolling out innovative programs faster than you can say "just one more time." Here's what's actually working:

1. The New Digital Frontier
   Remember when we thought technology was just for doom-scrolling and drunk-texting our exes? Well, Oneida County just launched CredibleMind, a 24/7 online mental health platform that's actually free. Yes, FREE. As in, costs nothing. As in, you can get help without selling your kidney on the black market.

2. Community Support Programs (CSP)
   These aren't your grandmother's support groups. Modern CSPs offer coordinated professional care that treats you like a whole person, not just a collection of poor life choices. Revolutionary, I know.

3. Recovery Housing Revolution
   Wisconsin's using $2 million in opioid settlement money for recovery housing. Because apparently, having a safe place to live is kind of important for staying sober. Who knew?

For the Families (Because Y'all Need Help Too)

Let's be real - watching someone you love battle addiction is like watching someone try to parallel park for three hours. It's painful, it's frustrating, and you desperately want to take the wheel but can't.

The good news? Wisconsin's community-based recovery programs are finally including family support that doesn't suck. WisHope, for instance, integrates family programming because they understand that addiction is a family disease (like male pattern baldness, but with more drama).

For the Professionals (Put Down Your DSM-5 for a Minute)

Hey there, treatment providers! Yes, you with the eye twitch and the coffee addiction. Wisconsin's community-based approach is changing the game, and here's why you should care:

• Multiple pathways to recovery are now supported (because shocking as it may be, not everyone's journey looks the same)
• Integration of mental health and addiction services (because apparently, people can have more than one problem at a time)
• New resources like CredibleMind that complement existing treatment (and don't require more paperwork - you're welcome)

Breaking Boundaries: Technology Meets Recovery

Enter IGNTD (pronounced "ignited") - a game-changer in the recovery landscape. Founded by Dr. Adi Jaffe, a UCLA-trained psychologist and world-renowned expert on mental health and addiction, this isn't your grandpa's recovery program. Dr. Jaffe, who has personally navigated the challenging path of addiction, created something revolutionary.

The Wisconsin Department of Corrections is turning heads by partnering with IGNTD for Regions 5 and 6 in Northern Wisconsin. Why? Because recovery doesn't clock out at 5 PM. This digital platform provides 24/7 support, breaking down the traditional barriers of treatment accessibility. Clients now have access to personalized tools, group sessions, and individual coaching - all from their phone.  P.S. one of your favorite bloggers just may also be an Accountability Coach for this amazing recovery app and platform to! 

The Stigma Stoppers: Why Community Matters

Let's get real about stigma. It's the invisible monster that keeps people from seeking help. The more we talk, the more we normalize, the more we break down those walls of shame and judgment.

Recovery isn't a linear path. It's not about being perfect. It's about being human. For the person who's been fighting for 25 years, for the newbie terrified of their first meeting, for the family member watching a loved one struggle - we see you. We hear you.

Clinical professionals have a critical role to play. Every dismissive comment, every raised eyebrow, every moment of judgment perpetuates the cycle of shame. But every moment of compassion, every open conversation, every supportive gesture chips away at the stigma.

Community-Based Recovery: Your Turn

Here's where you come in. We want to create the most comprehensive list of community-based recovery resources EVER. So we're asking:

What recovery resources exist in YOUR community?

Drop them in the comments. Share them on social media. Tag us. Create a thread. Whether it's:

• Local support groups
• Online communities
• Workplace wellness programs
• Faith-based recovery initiatives
• Peer support networks
• Innovative digital platforms

If it helps people heal, we want to know about it.

The Bottom Line (Because We All Need One)

Recovery isn't just about stopping the use of substances - it's about building a life worth staying sober for. Wisconsin's community-based approach is doing just that, one person, one family, and one slightly dysfunctional but well-meaning community at a time.

Need Help? (Because We All Do Sometimes)

• Wisconsin Addiction Recovery Helpline: 211
• CredibleMind Oneida County: oneidacountywi.crediblemind.com
• WisHope Recovery: wishoperecovery.com
• Crisis Line: 988 (Because sometimes you need to talk to someone who isn't your cat)

Remember, recovery is like Wisconsin weather - if you don't like what's happening right now, wait five minutes. It might get worse, but eventually, it has to get better.

And hey, if you're still reading this, you're already doing better than you think. Keep going. We're rooting for you, even if we're doing it awkwardly and from a distance.-Belle- 

When Your College Assignment Becomes a Blog Post (Because Why Not Double-Dip?)

So here's the deal - I've got this assignment for my final semester at Ottawa University where I'm supposed to reflect on my "college journey." insert eye roll here But you know what? This is actually kind of perfect for the blog because holy shit, what a ride it's been.

Picture this: 2015, middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin (specifically Lac du Flambeau reservation), and there I am - a high school dropout with more issues than National Geographic - deciding to take an EMT course. Why? Because it was free, and free is my favorite price point. Plot twist: I actually passed it. Mind. Blown.

Let me tell you about EMT training, because that shit was wild. Imagine a bunch of adults crawling around on floors, strapping each other to boards, and aggressively pumping on dummies. It's like BDSM meets healthcare, minus the safe word. But it introduced me to the special brand of dark humor you only find in emergency medicine. There's something about regularly asking "So... is anyone else hungry?" after particularly graphic trauma scenarios that bonds people for life.

That success went straight to my head, and I thought, "Hey, maybe I could do more school!" Classic mistake, right? Started chasing a Medical Assistant degree because apparently, I hate myself. Spoiler alert: Got taken down by a typing test. Yes, you read that right. A TYPING TEST. In an age where autocorrect practically writes our grocery lists, some sadist decided perfect typing speed matters. To whoever invented typing tests: I hope both sides of your pillow are warm. Forever.

But here's where it gets interesting (and by interesting, I mean tragically hilarious). I switched to substance use counseling courses because - get this - I thought I could "fix" my then-husband. pause for collective laughter Yeah, because that's totally how addiction works. Oh, and let's be real - I was also in it for that sweet, sweet financial aid money. Single mom survival tactics 101, am I right?

Speaking of being a single mom - holy shit, what a juggling act. There I was, trying to balance work, school, and kids, failing spectacularly at times. My solution? Material gifts! Because nothing says "Sorry Mommy's always working" like throwing presents at the problem. Spoiler alert: had to actually learn how to parent eventually. But watching my kids emerge from dysfunction into these amazing human beings? Worth every sleep-deprived moment. Special shoutout to my oldest who rocks the autism spectrum and can info-dump like a champion - you're basically a walking Wikipedia and I'm here for it.

The real kicker? I'm sitting in class one day, thinking I'm absolutely crushing it (narrator: she wasn't), when this professor drops this bomb: "You have to be healthier than your clients." Well, shit. Talk about a reality check that feels like getting hit with a baseball bat wrapped in truth and wrapped again in "get your life together."

Let's talk about online learning because that deserves its own special circle of hell. My dog ate my homework - literally ate my computer cord. I've lost more assignments to tech failures than I care to count. I've bought computers, lost computers, had internet, didn't have internet, and pulled out enough hair to make a small wig. To all my classmates whose discussion posts I've read at 3 AM: some of you are secret geniuses, and some of you... well, I'm genuinely concerned about how you found the power button.

The real fire under my ass came when I was working in residential treatment and realized my in-training license was about to expire. Nothing quite motivates you like the threat of career death, am I right? Four years of intense work in residential - loving it but feeling like I'd been put through an emotional wood chipper - and I wasn't about to let it slip away.

But you want to know the real gag? This high school dropout, this former addict from the backwoods of Wisconsin, now owns a house. Has a car that actually runs. Works not one, but two jobs she actually loves (shocking, I know). I'm talking patient-centered outpatient treatment where they actually let me have autonomy (dangerous, I know), and this cool gig with an online recovery platform called IGNDT where I get to be an accountability coach. Plot twist: I'm actually good at this stuff.

The most unexpected thing I've learned? That I'm not a failure. I know, weird right? Turns out all that stuff about core values and dysfunction we learn about in counseling hits different when you're unpacking your own baggage while helping others with theirs.

None of this would've happened without my significant other - the real MVP who's been holding down the fort and consistently telling me I can do this while I've been slowly losing my mind over the past six years. Having someone actually proud of you? That shit hits different when you're not used to it.

So yeah, this is technically a college assignment. But it's also a middle finger to everyone who said I couldn't do it. It's a love letter to second chances. And it's proof that sometimes the most messed up starting points lead to the best stories.

P.S. - To my professor who's reading this (because hi, this is also my assignment): See how I reflected on my journey AND maintained my brand voice? That's what we call efficiency. Or rebellion. Maybe both. Also, thanks for making me write this because turns out, I've come a pretty long way from that person who thought a typing test was going to end her career.-Belle-