Before I was a sober mom of eight living in the suburbs of Seattle, I was a creative dreamer and Evangelical Christian kid growing up in the 1980s (read: pre-Google) in Mountain View, California. I eventually returned to my birthplace of Los Angeles for college, and after graduation, I headed back to Silicon Valley—where I married an Australian airline executive just six weeks later.

 

Grounded by life as a young teacher turned stay-at-home mom to four kids, I watched my husband’s career soar. He gained altitude with promotions that had us relocating often, while I found myself weighed down with excess baggage. Depression, isolation, boredom, and a devastating crisis of faith led to more than a few extra glasses (okay, bottles) of wine and a platinum elite card-carrying membership in the Mommy Wine Club. Eventually, that lifestyle earned me a shiny pair of silver bracelets (not Tiffany, mind you—handcuffs) and a stay at King County’s largest “hotel” with very non-optional exit privileges. Two trips to rehab and the unwavering support of my husband laid the foundation for a new flight path.

 

I’ve learned the hard way what happens when you forget to put your own oxygen mask on first. Some flights are turbulent, and sometimes you have to change altitude—and take bold action—to avoid a crash. Sifting through the wreckage of my past with countless hours of professional help became my personal “black box,” revealing an untreated ADHD diagnosis. Now, I know that if I give my recovery priority boarding, everything else in my life can fly first class.

 

Over a decade and four bonus biological babies later, I’ve written two humor-filled autobiographical books about my experiences with alcoholism and ADHD, co-authored an anthology, and earned my Master’s in Publishing from Western Colorado University. I’m still married to the same Aussie, who continues to support my ever-evolving flight plan. -Amy Liz Harrison, MA, CPC, CLC