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Margaret had been through more than most. You could sense that early on — not just in what she said, but in what she didn’t. And yet, there was this gentleness in her, even before the layers started to peel back. She never tried to impress anyone. Just being in the room with her made things feel steadier. At least for me, it did.
A Long Road Behind Her
She came to Siam Rehab at 55. And she carried a long road with her.
Three decades of drinking, benzodiazepines, relapses, detoxes, estrangements… all of it. You name it, she’d probably been through it. But what stayed with me wasn’t the list of what happened. It was the way she once described it:
Addiction didn’t just ruin things — it erased her. Slowly, quietly. Like she’d been fading out without realizing.
She didn’t come here looking for a breakthrough. Honestly, I think she came because she didn’t know where else to go. Her voice was low. Her eyes rarely met yours. And when someone asked what she wanted from the program, she said:
“Maybe I can figure out who I am without all this.”
There was no big emotion in her voice. But there was something — a kind of quiet willingness. And sometimes, that’s more honest than hope.
Slowly Stepping In
The first week was rough. Her body was shaky. Her mind even more so. But she didn’t quit. She showed up. Always early. Always listening. In group, she didn’t jump in — just watched. Not with judgment, but caution. Like someone scanning for signs: is it safe here?
Eventually, she started to speak. A few words at first. Then a bit more. Some of it was messy. Some of it was hard to hear. And then one day, she said something that stayed with all of us:
“If I can make it through this, maybe I can help someone else one day.”
That sentence shifted something. Not just in her, but around her.
Remembering Herself
She began leaning into the process — slowly, yes, but deliberately. She stayed behind after group to check on others. Asked real questions. Wrote in her journal constantly. Not to craft a new version of herself, but to remember the one who’d been buried.
By the sixth week, Margaret felt different. Not in some big, visible way — she was still herself. But her voice was stronger. Her posture had changed. Her face was more open. She didn’t talk about “letting go of the past.” That’s not how she saw it. What she did was pick it up — hold it, look at it, carry it with more choice than before.
Life After Rehab
Now, back in Australia, her life is quieter. But not small.
She speaks at meetings. Checks in on others. Especially women who think they’ve missed their chance. She’s not trying to inspire anyone. But she does — just by being honest. About the bad days. About the guilt. About the relief of finally not hiding.
She still has hard moments. She still gets overwhelmed. But she’s here for it now. Fully. And she’s learned to use her story, not escape it.
Sometimes people ask her how she knows if it’s too late.
She usually just says:
“If you’re still breathing, you’ve still got time.”
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