From Broken to Becoming: A Mother’s Reflection on Teen Addiction, Alcohol, and the Boundaries That Saved My Life

When I look back at my teenage years, I see a young girl lost in smoke and shadows. Weed was my escape. Alcohol was my mask. I wasn’t partying to have fun—I was coping. I was numbing. I was unraveling.

And while the world often glamorizes teen experimentation, the truth is far darker. I was a broken teenager on drugs and alcohol, and the aftermath followed me into adulthood like a shadow I couldn’t outrun—until I realized I wasn’t just destroying myself anymore. I was damaging the future of the children I would one day bring into the world. They became my mirror, my truth, my rock bottom—and ultimately, my reason to rise.

The Slippery Slope of Escape: Teen Substance Use in America

According to the National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA), more than 35% of 12th graders reported using marijuana in the past year. It’s easy to shrug this off as “normal” or “just weed,” but research has shown that adolescents who regularly use marijuana are more likely to experience long-term cognitive impairments, including memory loss, reduced attention, and decreased motivation (Volkow et al., 2021). Those effects haunted me into my twenties.

I started using weed because I wanted to feel peace. But all it did was silence the alarm bells going off inside of me. My mind wasn’t healed—it was hazed.

And alcohol? Alcohol is the thief of everything it pretends to give. It offers confidence and steals clarity. It offers comfort and steals peace. it offers fun and steals your future.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) reports that underage drinking contributes to about 3,500 deaths per year among people under age 21. I was one of the lucky ones. But what I lost can never be measured in statistics alone—relationships, opportunities, trust, and most of all, connection with myself.

The Soul Cost of Alcohol: It Steals More Than Sobriety

Alcohol is more than just a drink—it’s a spirit, and not the kind that brings light. It destroys the spirit within.

I drank to numb the ache of abandonment. But alcohol robbed me of healthy relationships. It made me reckless. Defensive. Unreliable. And for a young woman trying to find love, identity, and belonging—it was a recipe for trauma.

I ruined friendships. I burned bridges. I pushed away people who genuinely cared. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t know how to feel without being drunk or high. I lost myself in the haze.

Breaking the Chains: My Children Were My Rock Bottom—and My Reason to Rise

The moment everything changed for me wasn’t dramatic—it was quiet. It was the stillness of realizing that if I didn’t change, my children would inherit the very pain I was trying to escape. That thought shattered me.

I saw myself in them—wide-eyed, full of promise, but at risk of reliving the same cycles: addiction, dysfunction, abandonment, emotional absence. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let that happen.

My children became my rock bottom—not because they hurt me, but because they revealed the truth I could no longer ignore. My brokenness was not just mine anymore. It had the power to shape their lives, their identities, their futures.

That was the most painful and powerful realization of my life.

And so, I began the work—not just of recovery, but of breaking generational chains. Of choosing hard boundaries, honest healing, and deep inner work. I did it so that my kids wouldn’t have to heal from a mother who never healed herself.

The Boundaries That Saved Me

Recovery is not just about abstinence—it’s about boundaries. I had to set limits, not only with people, but with old versions of myself. I had to leave behind:

• Toxic friendships that glorified getting high or drunk as a form of bonding.

• Environments that made relapse feel inevitable.

• Behaviors like numbing, avoiding, or spiraling into shame.

And most of all, I had to rebuild my inner voice—the one that believed I was worthy of healing.

Boundaries became an act of self-love. They were hard at first, but they taught my children that I valued myself—and them—enough to change.

What I Want My Children to Know

To my children: You are the reason I got clean. You are the reason I stayed clean. You are my redemption.

I want you to know that people can change. That addiction does not define you. That pain is not permanent. That God, grace, therapy, and truth can rebuild what you thought was destroyed.

I want you to know that I chose you, every day, even on the days I cried myself to sleep. I chose healing so you could inherit something better than what I had.

Final Reflections: From a Survivor

Today, I’m no longer a broken teenager. I’m a mother who understands the cost of her choices. I’m a woman who broke generational patterns so that my children could grow up with presence, purpose, and peace.

And to anyone reading this—whether you’re in the thick of addiction or trying to love someone through it—I see you. I’ve been you. And I promise: there is life after the fog. There is light after the spiral. There is YOU, on the other side of healing.

If you or someone you love is struggling with substance use, here are resources that can help:

• SAMHSA’s National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357)

• National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA): www.drugabuse.gov

• Partnership to End Addiction: www.drugfree.org

Authored with love, humility, and hard life-learned wisdom, Krystal Queen - Sullivan.