Sobriety, Leadership, and the Courage to Ask for Help

Editor’s Note: Addiction is a problem that can affect anyone in our Army. If you have a substance abuse problem, be like this author and reach out to the organizations that can help. No judgment.

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by “Jesse”

My name is Jesse,* and I am an alcoholic who happens to be an active duty Army officer. I struggled with alcoholism for over 25 years, but I have now been sober for two and a half years. I want to share my thoughts on how leadership and sobriety can go hand-in-hand—and how you can become a better leader and person by asking for help. Even if sharing my thoughts results in one person reaching out for help or learning more about themselves—mission accomplished.

You Will Fail

Failing sucks! But the thing about failure is that it’s one of the few ways leaders truly learn and grow. Failing is not the end; it’s really the beginning. Failure gives you the opportunity to reflect on what happened, ask a mentor for advice, and move forward as a more experienced, improved leader.

I thought I had cracked the code on the Army and on life, but I hadn’t—not even close. From the outside, it looked like I rarely failed and excelled in everything I did. But I had a serious drinking problem. Internally, I saw myself as a failure every day, and no one knew. Once I realized that I wasn’t a failure—but rather someone who was failing—I asked a mentor for help. That was the turning point. I reflected on my problem and began navigating life to become a better person. I continue to fail today, but now I have the tools to deal with it—through my family, friends, and the fellowship.

Perspective Is Paramount

Remember that at some point, you dreamed of being where you are now. In today’s society, we constantly strive for more—money, sex, friends, attention—and often feel like we never arrive. But if we pause for a few moments each day to gain perspective, we can appreciate how far we’ve come and what we’re blessed with.

This doesn’t mean we settle or accept mediocrity. One way I keep perspective is by writing a daily gratitude list. It takes less than five minutes. I jot down three things I’m grateful for—coffee, my wife, a warm bed, my daughters, a cardinal at the feeder, my sobriety. This practice grounds me.

Your Health Matters

At the height of my alcoholism, I drank every day. Still, I maxed the PT test, ran faster than most, passed Ranger School, and looked physically fit. But the truth is, I wasn’t taking care of myself mentally, emotionally, spiritually, or even physically—not really. Being fit doesn’t mean the damage isn’t accumulating, especially when you’re pouring poison into your body daily.

Military culture doesn’t necessarily promote alcohol, but it doesn’t discourage it either. I used to brag that drinking was a professional sport, and if you couldn’t hang, get out of the way. I was immature, delusional, and sick. I wish I had taken my health seriously sooner. But the best part? It’s never too late—whether you’re 25 or 55. At 45, I’m the healthiest I’ve ever been.

“Work/Life Balance” Is Crap

We often envision a perfectly balanced scale between “work” and “life.” My experience says otherwise. Each chapter of life requires its own version of balance—and it’s never a perfect 50/50.

Have a deliberate conversation with your spouse or family about each role you take on. As a brand-new platoon leader, you might be 65% work, 35% life. During the Captain’s Career Course, maybe it flips to 60% life. Life becomes easier when your loved ones understand this before each assignment—expectation management is key.

Be Present

Play where your feet are. Bloom where you’re planted. Love the one you’re with. I’ve excelled at this professionally—but failed as a father. It ties back to balance. We’ll never perfect it, but we can strive to be fully present.

Dinner should not include my work phone or texting the boss. That can wait. Being 100% present for 30 minutes is better than being distracted for three hours. When I thought I was present while drinking, I wasn’t. I regret that. Your spouse and kids deserve your time and your full attention. Quality trumps quantity.

Emotions Are a Good Thing

For 25 years, I numbed every emotion with alcohol. Feeling anything seemed unbearable. But with time in sobriety, I became a better dad, leader, and person. I developed empathy. I learned vulnerability didn’t make me weak. I could express feelings honestly. For me, feeling emotions was a breakthrough. Now I can tell my wife and daughters what they mean to me—and share openly with others like me.

Stigma Prevents Progress

Since high school, I knew I didn’t have a healthy relationship with alcohol. It took over 25 years—and a crumbling marriage and career—before I asked for help. I didn’t know where to turn. I was a lieutenant colonel with a top-secret clearance, hoping to command a battalion. How could I get help?

I reached out to someone in a 12-step program. It was terrifying—for about two minutes. Then came relief. I called Military OneSource and got a counselor. The beauty? Neither appears in your medical record. I got the triage I needed without risking my career. The tourniquet stopped the bleeding, and I could start healing.

Actions, Not Words

In the military, we’re experts at briefing missions. I used that same skill to explain away my drinking to family and friends. And it worked—until it didn’t. Addicts are master manipulators. I lied, deceived, and spun my way into staying drunk.

Eventually, I got sick and tired of being sick and tired. Help was my only option. I had to be quiet, pray, listen, learn—and act. My advice? Shut up. Pray. Reflect. Then act. You don’t need to broadcast it. Your actions will speak.

You Can Only Control Yourself

I love being in control—but I was out of control. Through the 12 steps, I learned I’m a control freak. In the Army, we live under the illusion that we command and control. Truth is, we don’t control others—we influence them. The only true control we have is over ourselves: our emotions, our words, our reactions, how we show up. Life gets easier when you focus on the one thing you can control—you.

When in Doubt, Do the Next Right Thing

This is my daily mantra. When I’m overwhelmed or tempted, I ask myself: What’s the next right thing?

Once, someone said something awful about me. My gut reaction (always wrong) was to strike back. But the next right thing? Keep quiet. Let it pass. Let my actions speak. Living this way helps me show up for my family, my friends—and myself.

Conclusion

The first step to breaking the stigma around substance abuse in the Army is honest conversation. Real conversations with people who’ve lived through it and are willing to help. These must happen at the grassroots level—not left to DoD or VA systems.

From conversation comes action. Once people see they can get help without risking careers, they’ll be more willing to ask. These actions and conversations can drive long-term change for future leaders. Are you willing to have the conversation—or ask for help?

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*“Jesse” is an active-duty Armor officer with 26 years of service and currently serves as a Professor of Military Science within Cadet Command. He is a recovered alcoholic and actively works with veterans and non-veterans who suffer from alcohol and drug addiction.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.