I started drinking at 12. It took multiple DUIs, serious health issues, and homelessness for me to quit at 44.

This story is based on an interview with Katie Rosier, 48, who is on disability after leaving her procurement job. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Four years ago, at age 44, I was newly discharged from the hospital with a stent in my heart, and I thought about the five strokes I’d had and the poor state of my health overall.

I looked down at my hands to see myself holding a glass of bourbon. Despite everything I’d been through over the last few years — including a stay at a homeless shelter — I was still drinking.

It was one of many rock bottoms during my past 32 years as an alcoholic. This time, however, I knew it was get sober or die.

I started drinking early

I became Dad’s drinking buddy at the tender age of 12. My 10 older siblings had flown the nest, so it was only him and me after my mother died.

He was an alcoholic, and it was almost inevitable that I’d follow the same path. We drank cheap wine and beer before I graduated to vodka.

It led to my not prioritizing school, constantly missing deadlines, and being written up for behavioral issues, such as getting into fights. I was part of the stereotypical bad crowd.

I got three DUIs within nine years

I went to college while working, including a kitchen job at a casino. The money allowed me to afford more expensive brands of whiskey. I was consuming anything between a fifth and a handle of whiskey on my days off.

Over the years, I got into so much trouble with the law. I got my first DUI at 17, my second at 21 — when I nearly T-boned a police car — and my third at 26. I went to jail twice.

The habit soon crept into my working hours. I had monster hangovers and was barely functional. Eventually, the drinking won, and I left my job.

Then things looked up a bit, and I managed to attend graduate school and earn an MBA in supply chain management. It helped me get my procurement position in 2017.

My alcohol consumption didn’t diminish. I didn’t really care. The constant thought that I was drinking myself to death didn’t stop the urge.

Then, I had an accident at home. It wasn’t related to alcohol, but my declining health had me taking FMLA from work, and then leaving my job completely.

In the summer of 2021, I was homeless and stayed in a Salvation Army shelter for four months. Then I qualified for housing. partly because because I’d been diagnosed with congestive heart failure.

But my drinking continued for the next 12 months. The stent surgery took place in August 2022.

I called several rehabilitation centers

It was a few days later, when I stared at that half-full glass of bourbon in my hand, that I knew enough was enough.

I couldn’t keep going on as I was. Something had to change.

I called several rehabilitation centers before choosing one that fit the bill and accepted my insurance. I checked myself in on September 20, 2022. which marked the beginning of my sobriety.

The detox process wasn’t fun, but I got through it OK. Then I had intensive psychiatrists’ appointments and counseling sessions with other addicts like me.

To help my body stay on track, a doctor suggested I try a Vivitrol injection. The medication treats alcohol dependence by affecting the opioid pathways in the brain.

There’s a school of thought that it takes 21 days of sobriety to gain clarity. For me, it took three days. I no longer craved slamming down a beer or tasting whiskey. It no longer occupied my mind.

I was finally able to focus on my health, eating healthily at last, and getting regular exercise.

People drink around me, but I’m no longer tempted

A nurse gives me the injection in my backside every month. My doctor said I’ll keep having them as long as I need.

In the four years since I got my first shot, I haven’t looked back. My whole world has opened up. I have renewed my interest in pinball, which I’ve loved since I was a child, and joined a league.

Some of the tournaments take place in bars — my former favorite haunts. But it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. People drink around me, but I’ve never been tempted since starting the injections.

I joke that, if I could afford it, I would buy everybody with an alcohol problem a shot — a shot of the medication, not whiskey. It worked for me, and I hope it does the same for others.