Forgiving Myself for Who I Was in Addiction

Recovery isn’t just about staying sober—it’s also about learning how to live with yourself after the chaos, the regret, and the broken pieces.

There are a lot of things people don’t talk about when it comes to recovery. They’ll talk about getting sober. They’ll talk about meetings. They’ll talk about the “new life” part. And all of that matters.

But one of the hardest parts of recovery for me has been this:

Forgiving myself for who I was in addiction.

Because even when the drinking stops, the memories don’t always stop. The regret doesn’t stop. The shame doesn’t stop. Sometimes the hardest battle isn’t staying sober—it’s learning how to live with yourself after everything you did while you weren’t sober.

The Things That Still Echo

Addiction doesn’t just take your peace. It takes your identity. It turns you into a version of yourself that you don’t even recognize sometimes. And if I’m being real, I’ve had moments where I’ve thought:

“How could I do that?”
“Why did I hurt people who loved me?”
“Why did I lie?”
“Why did I push everyone away?”
“How many chances did I waste?”
“How many times did I promise and not follow through?”

Those thoughts can hit you out of nowhere. You can be having a decent day and then—boom—you remember something you said, something you did, or a moment you wish you could take back. And if you’re not careful, your mind will try to convince you that you don’t deserve to heal.

Shame vs. Accountability

This is something I’ve had to learn the hard way:

Accountability helps you grow. Shame keeps you stuck.

Accountability says: “I did wrong, and I’m going to make it right as much as I can.”

Shame says: “I am wrong, and I’ll never be better.”

Shame attacks your identity. It makes you believe you’re permanently broken. It tries to take away your future by chaining you to your past. But recovery isn’t about pretending nothing happened. It’s about owning what happened… and still believing you can change.

I Can’t Rewrite the Past—But I Can Live Different Today

One of the biggest lies addiction tells you is that you can’t change. That you’re always going to be “that person.” That the damage is permanent. But I’m learning that my past doesn’t get the final word.

I can’t go back and undo everything. I can’t take back every broken promise. I can’t erase the pain I caused. I can’t rewind time. But I can do something powerful:

I can live differently today.

And sometimes the best apology isn’t words—it’s consistency. It’s showing up. It’s being honest. It’s doing the work. It’s staying sober. It’s being responsible. It’s rebuilding trust slowly, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Forgiveness Doesn’t Mean I Excuse It

Let me be clear: forgiving myself doesn’t mean I excuse what I did. It doesn’t mean I minimize it. It doesn’t mean I blame everybody else. It doesn’t mean I pretend it didn’t hurt people.

Forgiveness means I stop punishing myself forever for a chapter I’m no longer living in. Because if I stay stuck in self-hatred, it doesn’t help the people I hurt. It doesn’t make anything better. It just keeps me trapped… and that’s a dangerous place for someone in recovery.

The Version of Me in Addiction Was Not the Real Me

This is another truth I’ve had to accept: addiction turns you into someone you’re not. It makes you selfish when you’re not selfish. It makes you cold when you’re not cold. It makes you reckless when you’re not reckless. It makes you numb when you actually feel deeply.

That doesn’t remove responsibility. But it helps me understand something important: I wasn’t living with a clear mind. I was living in survival, cravings, chaos, pain, and escape. And recovery is me finally choosing to face life instead of running from it.

How I’m Learning to Forgive Myself

Self-forgiveness isn’t a one-time moment. It’s a process. And for me, it’s looked like a few things:

Taking ownership without self-destruction.
Yes, I did things I regret. But I don’t have to destroy myself to prove I’m sorry.
Making amends where I can.
Sometimes that means an apology. Sometimes it means changed behavior. Sometimes it means respecting distance while staying consistent.
Letting time do its job.
Some wounds take time. Some trust takes time. I can’t rush it. I just keep doing the next right thing.
Talking about it in therapy.
I’ve had to process shame, trauma, and the reasons I drank in the first place—because if I don’t heal the root, I’m always fighting myself.
Learning to speak to myself like a human being.
I’m learning to stop talking to myself like I’m trash. That kind of self-talk doesn’t lead to recovery—it leads back to the bottle.

A Message for Anyone Struggling With Self-Forgiveness

If you’re reading this and you’re stuck in regret, I want you to hear me: You don’t have to deny your past… but you also don’t have to live in it.

You can grieve what you lost. You can admit what you did. You can take responsibility. And you can still choose to heal. Because the truth is, the fact that you feel remorse is proof you’re not the same person anymore.

The old you wouldn’t care.
The healing you does.

Final Thought

I’m not proud of who I was in addiction. But I’m also not going to ignore the work I’m doing now. I’m learning to forgive myself—not because I “deserve a pass,” but because I deserve a chance.

A chance to grow. A chance to rebuild. A chance to stay sober. A chance to become the man I was always meant to be. One day at a time.

Josh Bridges