When Sobriety Meets Suffering: Shingles, Pain, and the Power of Staying the Course

This week has brought me to my knees, literally and spiritually.

I was diagnosed with shingles, and not just anywhere, on my eye. The pain is excruciating. It feels like someone lit a fire behind my face and it won’t go out. My eye is swollen, my head is throbbing, and every nerve on the left side of my face is screaming. It’s terrifying. Not only because of the physical pain, but because shingles in the eye can threaten your vision. That kind of fear can rattle you to your core.

And let me be brutally honest: in moments like this, my old self starts whispering to me.
“Just one drink. Just one cigarette. Just one moment to take the edge off.”

That was my go-to comfort before. In pain, in panic, in sadness, I numbed. That’s how I survived back then. But now, I’m sober. And I’m not just sober when it’s easy. I’m learning how to be sober when it’s excruciating.

There’s nothing easy about walking through a health crisis without your old crutches. My body is screaming, my nerves are shot, and my emotions feel like a rollercoaster. I’ve cried from the pain. I’ve cried from the fear. I’ve cried from the sheer exhaustion of holding the line.

But I’m still holding.

Because in this moment, I’m not turning to the bottle or the lighter, I’m turning to God.
To prayer.
To worship.
To quiet moments of begging Him to get me through the next hour.

And He is. He doesn’t always take the pain away. But He does meet me in it.

I wanted to share this not because I have it all together, I don’t. But because someone out there might be going through their own storm and wondering how to hold on without falling back. This is your reminder: You can. You can do hard things. You can stay sober through the fire. You can cry and still be strong. You can feel broken and still be healing.

Shingles on my eye may have knocked me down, but it hasn’t taken my sobriety. And it won’t. Because I’ve fought too long and too hard to get here.

This is just one chapter, not the whole story.

So I’m choosing faith over fear. Prayer over panic. Sobriety over suffering.

And if you’re walking through pain too—physical, emotional, spiritual—I’m walking right beside you.

We don’t have to hide our hard days.
We don’t have to keep secrets anymore.
We heal out loud.
We stay sober—even in the storm.

With love and honesty,