I was addicted to alcohol and didn't realize I had a problem. To quit, I had to work through my past trauma.

• After being sexually assaulted in 2015, I began drinking heavily to cope with the trauma.
• I started having persistent nightmares and was frequently sick but I didn't know why.

My story begins on Valentine's Day 2015. We started talking on Grindr, although I'd seen him around. After hitting it off on the app, we arranged to meet. He asked to meet the following Saturday, and I agreed; the only problem was that Saturday was February 14. When I arrived in the city, I bought an emergency Valentine's Day card just in case.

As I walked toward the water fountain — a romantic meeting spot I'd suggested — I saw his silhouette in the distance. For a moment, I was so nervous I thought about aborting the date and going back home, but I told myself, "No, just go for it, Sam," as I rarely ever went on proper dates. When I came closer, I saw his slim frame, blonde hair, and blue eyes. There was no denying my attraction.

There were red flags immediately on our date

Once we got to the bar, one of the first red flags should have been his frequent bathroom visits; the bar we were in was notorious for revelers taking party drugs unchecked. Every time he returned, he seemed more energetic. He commanded the attention of the room and he knew it. I loved his energy, too.

I went back to his apartment with him, where the vibe quickly changed; his mood shifted erratically. But after a while, he seemed to calm down and suggested we go to his room for "Netflix and chill."

What happened next could only be described as horrific. And though it's not necessary to go into detail here about my sexual assault, it would ultimately change my life forever.

In spite of the traumatic events that had occurred, I stayed over at his place. I didn't see a way to escape or safely get home. He was out like a light and woke up in the morning like a completely different person — it felt very "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde." To my surprise, it seemed he had no recollection of the night before. Maybe if he couldn't remember what had happened, I could forget about it, too, I thought. But that would prove difficult.

I started drinking heavily to forget and became ill frequently

In the following months, I went from drinking two or three glasses of wine a night to two or three bottles, sometimes more. In July 2016, I decided to stop drinking, but about 36 hours after my last drink, I became seriously unwell. I was shaking severely, had a fever, and was intensely sweating. Unbeknownst to me, I was experiencing severe alcohol withdrawal.

The following month, I experienced my second episode of illness and didn't know why. I went to the doctor.

"Do you know your HIV status?" the doctor asked. "No," I replied. At this point, I'd convinced myself that HIV caused my illness; my perpetrator and I were connected on social media, and he had spoken out about his own diagnosis.

When my results were negative, I asked for a retest. I found it bewildering that I had no answers about the cause of my poor health, and I still had a gut feeling my illness was linked to the events of that awful night. I was constantly having nightmares, a horrific loop of events I wanted to forget; they felt like a clue to a puzzle the doctor couldn't solve.

The trauma reemerged when I saw him again

In September 2016, I was still feeling unwell frequently and didn't know why. My best friend invited me to join him for a few days in Budapest and I didn't hesitate to take time off and buy a plane ticket.

On the train to the airport, I saw a young guy a few seats in front of me wearing a pink cap. About halfway there, he got up and walked toward me — presumably to use the toilet — but by the time I looked up again, he had already returned to his seat. When I headed to the doors as the train approached the airport, I saw the guy looking straight at me further down the car — it was him.

As the train doors opened, scores of commuters rushed to catch their connections. I could see my perpetrator's pink cap bobbing among the crowd; it looked like he was stumbling. In a moment of panic, I ran in the opposite direction from where I assumed he was headed.

"SAAAMMM!!!" I heard a songlike voice from behind. I turned around to see if it was him, though I knew it was before my eyes confirmed. Seeing him again was triggering, especially in the state he was in. For someone who had always been so naturally beautiful, he looked a total mess. His body was withered, and his face was gaunt.

This would be the last time I saw him. But from that day on, I thought he was everywhere — especially if I saw anyone wearing a pink cap. In many ways, our chance encounter was almost as traumatizing as the original event.

At the airport, I went through security and headed straight to the bar. For the first time, I started drinking during the day, and I can't remember boarding the plane or much of my time in Budapest.

I was having constant nightmares

Though I tried to forget what had happened, I was still having persistent nightmares and reliving the trauma. Alcohol was the only thing that anesthetized my anguish and despair.

By that November, I finally hit rock bottom and ended up in the hospital in a mental-health crisis. I was finally diagnosed as alcohol dependent, and my past health episodes were recognized as severe alcohol withdrawal (at the peak of which I experienced both audio and visual hallucinations). I checked myself into a residential detox center in March 2017 for 10 days, though I relapsed immediately after discharge.

Following many suicide attempts, emergency-room visits, and four psychiatric-hospital admissions where I detoxed, I was eventually able to fully embrace recovery on my last detox in November 2019. By then, I'd realized that the only way to give recovery the best possible chance was to start trauma therapy for male survivors of sexual violence.

Sobriety and therapy helped me reckon with my trauma

When I started therapy in spring 2020, I was four months sober. During this "honeymoon period," I'd been on holiday twice on my own to Gran Canaria. If I were to relapse anywhere it would have been on vacation, but I didn't; I took this as a good sign I was in recovery for the long haul.

My understanding of my life completely changed in the 10 months I underwent intensive therapy. Realizing that my sexual assault was a "tipping point" rather than a starting point in my story helped me further understand earlier traumas, including child abuse, parental neglect, and homophobic bullying I endured at school.

During summer 2021, I spoke to a psychiatrist about my persistent nightmares. After exploring my symptoms and history of trauma, he diagnosed me with complex PTSD. Initially, I didn't think my symptoms were serious enough for such a diagnosis, but I realize I wasn't allowing myself to see the full scope of my illness.

A massive part of my recovery has been letting go of resentment. I didn't go to rehab or Alcoholics Anonymous — or any other recovery program, for that matter — but I found that dealing with my resentment in therapy helped enormously. Holding onto anger is like stabbing ourselves in the chest and expecting the other person to die.

Personally, I couldn't engage in forgiveness to let go and move forward — not with this. I didn't need to, or want to, absolve him to get to a place of peace. I prefer the term acceptance because I know that it's necessary for my recovery to acknowledge the events of the past. I had to find my own way to find peace in order to move on — and that's exactly what I've done.