I was 14 when I first believed alcohol was the answer. I grew up in Latvia with my parents and three siblings, but my father’s behaviour shaped my early years. He was an alcoholic, though I never saw him drink. He’d retreat to the basement and later emerge blurting out words that cut deep. I never felt I belonged, not even in my own family. Drinking
gave me temporary relief from the emptiness I had inside. I began chasing that feeling at every opportunity.Â
After university, I moved to the UK intending to continue my studies. But alcohol and drugs were everywhere, and I quickly found myself working just to fund my habit. As a hotel receptionist, I met new people, including my partner. We had a son, but I ended the relationship soon after.
Despite being a mother, I lacked a sense of responsibility. I left my son with his father and moved cities. I’d promise to visit, but drinking always got in the way. I’d swear next time would be different, but it never was. My lifestyle spiralled; cocaine, MDMA, marijuana, and bottles of wine became routine.
I tried stopping but I didn’t have the strength, the cycle just repeated. Another relationship, another pregnancy, and more conflict. The police were often called, and neighbours noticed my daily drinking. One day, Social Services contacted me over reports made by neighbours who smelled marijuana. My daughter was placed on a child protection plan. I was terrified of losing her too.
Still, I couldn’t break free from the alcohol. I made sure there was food, but when the drink ran out, I’d ask anyone, even strangers, for money to get more.
Alcohol and unhealthy relationships cost me my job, my peace, my dignity, and access to my children. Yet I still valued alcohol above all else. There were nights I hoped I wouldn’t wake up. I was trying to appear sober and happy, but inside I was falling apart.
Then one day, a woman saw me sitting in despair and told me how she was able to change her life. She told me how services at the Universal Church helped her achieve this. She gave me hope. We exchanged numbers, and when lockdown began, she sent me links to the online services. I watched with a glass of wine beside me but before long, I found myself tuning in regularly.
The messages filled the emptiness I’d carried for years. Something inside me changed. Gradually, I lost the desire to drink or take drugs. In time, I found the strength to give it up completely.
When lockdown lifted, I visited the church. I was nervous at first, but the warm welcome made me feel at ease. I treated my attendance almost like a programme. I was focused on changing. I attended 3 times a week and took notes. For me, reading my Bible daily and praying helped me face and deal with things I’d kept inside.
The past six years have shown me that it’s possible to break a 20-year cycle. It took daily commitment and courage to break toxic relationships. Life sober is better than I ever imagined. I’ve regained self-worth, rebuilt relationships, and become a better employee, friend, daughter and mother.
Accepting help wasn’t weakness. It was strength. My only regret is not doing it sooner. I chose to arise and everything changed.
Leva Klavina
