Oar Health Member Stories: ADHD and AUD

Interventions, Alcoholics Anonymous, and rigid recovery rules never resonated with me.

For someone just starting to examine their relationship with alcohol, traditional recovery messaging can be a turn-off. It’s shame-based instead of encouraging introspection. Having this awareness, when I started examining alcohol’s role in my life, I went to sober-curious sites instead. The approach was less black and white than other recovery modalities and nonjudgmental. Through these interactions, Oar Health popped up on Instagram . I clicked it…

Alcohol Informed My Early Life

From childhood to my teen years, I watched my dad struggle with substance abuse. My mom would try to stage interventions. I felt very immersed in the sober community, which later made it more challenging in my journey—I knew I didn't want to be involved in alcoholics anonymous (AA).

But my drinking problems didn’t emerge until my 30s. I had my first child at 17, my next at 22, and two others before 30. I didn’t attend many parties in college or grad school—I pushed through my responsibilities and requirements to graduate. There wasn’t time or room to experiment with substances. I started drinking at 16 but stopped after having kids. I also didn’t have a lot of money or free time then, so I wasn’t spending excess on alcohol.

Putting Two And Two Together: ADHD & Alcohol Use

My second child was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in middle school. Since then, much has changed in ADHD research. We now know about impulse control and substance abuse rates among people with ADHD. Through my son’s diagnosis, I started to consider the similarities—it sounded a lot like me. Those with ADHD may be drawn to substances that induce calm feelings. Though it took another ten years, I finally received the same diagnosis, and it put my substance abuse into perspective. 

I started to reflect on how my relationship with alcohol was different than other’s. It was a struggle only to have one drink and stop. After a drink, I wanted another. It felt more challenging than for other people. Exploring my ADHD diagnosis, it makes all the sense why my brain was wired to want more. Bridging my insight about drinking and ADHD, I hold a lot of empathy for my dad’s story, who eventually got sober. He was also likely neurodivergent and predisposed to substance abuse. 

Alcohol serves as an instant dopamine hit for a dopamine-deficient brain, which many people with ADHD experience. My tolerance was different than those in my friend group. So was my preoccupation—I could derail a social plan if I saw a bar along the way to a restaurant. I drank more in my mid-late thirties than ever before in my life. It’s socially acceptable to drink more during that time—you have a career and a higher income, and people view drinking wine as a sophisticated outing. 

My ADHD diagnosis was in 2020, which was right around the time the world shut down because of COVID-19. Without the distraction of leaving for work, I was more aware of the effects of alcohol on my life and emotions. It was like I was in a glass box. 

A Series Of Paper Cuts

I have a career as an educator, and I run half marathons. It can be easy to fool ourselves into thinking everything is okay when it’s not. But how often did I wake up feeling lousy and unable to finish projects I’d start?

I wasn’t a “rock bottom” person, but through self-inquiry, I realized how many parts of my life alcohol was negatively affecting. It became harder for my body to process alcohol and follow through with my goals, like accomplishing a project on the weekend. I was less patient with my kids. Even after a glass of wine or two, I’d say things to my husband that I wouldn’t if I were sober. Everything was functioning but felt strained.

Alcohol in my life was like a series of paper cuts as opposed to a gaping injury.

Breaking A Habit With Naltrexone

There’s a lot of stigma around taking a pill for a problem. But I wasn’t at all opposed to that part. Through my research on ADHD and neurodivergence, I shifted my views of medication as potentially helpful rather than always harmful. 

My goal in starting naltrexone was to break a habit. I was curious if I could sustain the change after taking it for six months. In the first month, I decided not to be fully abstinent. But toward the end of the first month, I sustained not drinking as I didn’t have the urge. I started feeling the effects within the first week. At dinner, I could leave an unfinished beer right in front of me—that was a first. 

I noticed a big difference in being able to go to a friend’s birthday party without drinking. In the past, that wouldn’t have happened. In the six months, I did take breaks from abstinence, allowing myself two glasses of wine a week as a maximum. Throughout that time, my husband was very supportive.

I started naltrexone in 2023 and stopped in 2024. After stopping, reduced drinking has been easier to maintain than I imagined. I also have a lot of self-care practices in my life—physical activity, CBT therapy, and online sober-curious communities. 

With Oar Health, having the online community to pop into as needed was helpful. It’s non-judgmental and nuanced—people have different recovery stories, and I can tap into the community whenever I want to instead of having inflexible rules requiring daily or in-person attendance. 

There’s so much stigma in recovery; people think naltrexone is a cheat or that if they use it for reduction instead of stopping completely, other recovery communities may look down upon it. I don't see any downside if it’s helping someone reduce their intake.

In The Future

I wish more people knew there are treatments like naltrexone without only black-or-white recovery options. I have no interest in going back to what my alcohol intake was before. There are too many benefits for me: health, exercise, money, and finishing house projects. I have no plan to return to life before naltrexone. 

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