I’m an author, podcaster, and motivational speaker.

Instagram: @amandamckoyflanagan

Website: amandamckoyflanagan.com

Book on Amazon: Trust Yourself to Be All In: Safe to Love and Let Go

Facebook Group: Amanda McCoy Flanagan and Castle Rock Clubhouse

Podcast: Instagram: @solrisingpodcast YouTube: @thesolrisingpodcast Spotify: Sol Rising Apple: Sol Rising

What’s your name and drug of choice? 

My name is Amanda McKoy Flanagan, and my drug of choice is alcohol. Other drugs were always on the table, but alcohol was there in the beginning, middle, and end. It was my best friend. 

What’s your sobriety date? 

July 30, 2006

Give us a little background information. (Where are you from or grew up? What do you do for a living? What are your passions?) 

I grew up in Oceanside, New York, on the south shore of Long Island. I went to SUNY Albany for my undergraduate degree. After college I lived in Long Beach, NY, then Brooklyn, NY. I moved back to Merrick, Long Island 6 months before I got sober. Two years sober, at 28 years old, I went back to school and graduated from Stony Brook University with a master’s degree in social work. At 38, my husband and two small children moved to Castle Rock, Colorado, where we currently reside. 

I’m an author, podcaster, and motivational speaker. I also write a blog on my website. The focus of my work is on emotions and how they affect the experience of grief/loss, trauma, addiction/recovery, relationships, and spirituality, with the central theme of connection v. disconnection. I am passionate about healing emotional wounds because I believe healing personal pain (energy) has the power to heal the world. I’m also a co-founder of the Castle Rock Clubhouse, a nonprofit organization that provides meeting space for 12-step meetings. I’m a runner, a drummer, a vegan who is adamant about slowing down climate change, a die-hard Pearl Jam fan, and a lover of all things nature. 

Describe your experience as an addict. 

I started drinking at 13 years old, and it got worse from there. Low self-worth and traumatic experiences throughout childhood forced me to create a façade. It was extremely painful living with a mask on, hiding my true self from the world; I didn’t think you’d like me. Essentially, I drank to face the pain I couldn’t reach when I was sober. Contrary to the masses who drank to numb out, I drank to feel. Ultimately, there were lots of poor choices made, many nights where I put myself in harm’s way. I’m lucky to be alive. 

When did you realize your life had become unmanageable? 

Lying in bed, after a 28-hour drinking binge (no drugs), I heard the lyrics from a Pearl Jam song called “Unemployable” ring through my head: “I've seen the light, scared of life, here to die.” I experienced a moment of divine intervention and went to a meeting two days later. I have not had a drink since. I still had a car, my own apartment, a great job, and friends. I didn’t have to lose it all to ‘see the light.’ I knew that if I didn’t stop drinking when I did, it would get worse, and I’d eventually lose everything. I also knew I might kill someone (or myself) driving in a blackout. I felt these things in my core. 

What did your recovery look like? 

I jumped in with both feet and did whatever I was told to do; I had a healthy fear of relapse. I trusted what people who relapsed told me would happen if I drank again. At 8 months sober, my boyfriend in recovery died from the disease. I was taken down but didn’t drink. My sponsor had recently lost her husband and I asked her what I should do. She told me to keep going with my steps. I was on step 8. Four months later, I completed all 12 steps and began sponsoring women. 

I met my husband, we got married, had 2 children, and moved west. A year later I suffered my second emotional breakdown in recovery due to a loss of identity. I didn’t drink. Instead, I got involved with someone talking about opening a clubhouse and led the charge with gusto. 

Within 3 years of our move, 5 close family members died, 4 were sudden and unexpected deaths. My brother Jeremy was the last of the procession. He died from an overdose. That's when I experienced my third breakdown in recovery. I didn’t drink. Shortly after, I decided I didn’t love my husband. Marriage counseling revealed that I was in fear that he would be the next to die, and this unconscious but powerful fear forced me to push him away. (He’s 12 years older than me and a 9/11 first responder with chronic respiratory illness.) 

My recovery looks like working the program harder and engaging in more service when all seems lost. It looks like showing up for myself and seeking a deeper spiritual experience when the rubber meets the road. It looks like unconditional self-love and self-compassion. 

How are you doing these days? 

Eh…2024 is off to a rocky start, but I have never been so grounded in who I am and my purpose on Earth (in this life anyway!). I know myself on every level because I am rigorously honest about my attributes and my shortcomings. At 17 years sober, I still haven’t drank or taken a drug because I ask God/Higher Power/Universe for clarity—to see myself clearly—so that I can keep growing into the woman I am meant to be. 

What do you do to maintain sobriety? 

I live a life of service, in and out of the rooms. I also go to 12-step meetings regularly, where I find newcomers who give me the opportunity to pass on what was given to me. I spend hours focusing on and enlarging my spiritual condition through prayer, meditation, reading spiritual literature, and talking intimately and vulnerably with people traveling a similar path. I tap into my purpose on a daily basis and remind myself that I could not do the work I am intended to do if I were drinking. I keep the bigger picture (service to others and the world) at the forefront of my mind and it serves as motivation. 

What are you grateful for? 

I’m grateful to be alive. I do not believe I am “supposed to be dead,” like we often hear from sober people. If I am supposed to be dead, I’d be dead. But I’m not. I’m supposed to be alive to share my experience, strength, and hope with anyone who needs healing, including sick and suffering alcohols and addicts. I survived all the times I could have died because I am supposed to be a vessel for hope.

I’m also grateful for the person I have become. I am grateful to be open to whatever spirit wants to do with me and that I’m willing to do it. I love myself today; I have grit accompanied by a soft heart; determination coupled with self-compassion; a belief in the goodness of humanity blended with pragmatism. I’m grateful to like myself today. 

Any advice you would give to newly sober folks? 

Face your pain now. If you don’t, it will take you out only to return you right back to where you are now, and with more consequences. Your pain will not kill you. Not looking at it will.