Wade doesn’t sugar-coat what his drinking looked like. “I was a raging alcoholic,” he says. Alcohol wasn’t something to enjoy in moderation; it was the centre of his life for decades.

In his youth, he stole whiskey from his parents’ kitchen to drink with friends, replacing it with apple juice to avoid getting caught. By high school, things had escalated quickly. “I was drinking six-packs, twelve-packs on break,” he recalls. From the outside, he was young, athletic, and the life of the party. Inside, alcohol was already quietly taking control.

As he got older, Wade chased bigger experiences: travel, hard work, and big money. He worked internationally in environments where, as he puts it, “any time of the day was 5:00.” The culture blurred work and drinking, and alcohol remained constant.

His bottom came far from home, when a vacation to Guatemala turned into three years of avoidance. He stayed, drank heavily, and “burned all the bridges,” he says, as addiction took over completely. “I was in the darkest place imaginable,” he recalls, “and in my total despair I did some unimaginable, disgusting things.”

Eventually, something shifted. Wade lost days he still can’t explain and fell, hitting his head. A security guard brought him to the hospital, where no one knew who to call and an acquaintance told him plainly to get home before he died.

However, returning to Canada brought more pain. Wade’s father passed away unexpectedly, and Wade felt disconnected and unstable. He couldn’t hold jobs and blamed everyone else. “Everyone was always at fault but me,” he reflects, noting that on top of everything else, his health was failing. At the time, he weighed over 300 pounds and was living with serious liver and heart issues. After a particularly difficult episode, he spent 30 days in intensive care, followed by more than a month in inpatient psychiatric care.  During this time, he suffered extreme withdrawal delirium as his body recalibrated from years of alcohol abuse.

When Wade arrived at Renascent, however, he felt something he hadn’t felt in years: welcome. “From the moment I walked in, everyone was welcoming,” he says. He connected with a counsellor who gave him a book on PTSD, which helped Wade name what he’d been carrying. The daily routine created structure: regular meetings, steady support, nurses checking vitals without judgment, and meals that made him feel cared for. “No one asked you what your ‘issue’ was,” he recalls. “Regardless of what brought you there, you were accepted.”

Over two years into his recovery, Wade’s life couldn’t be more different. He’s lost over 100 pounds, rebuilt his health, and is re-examining his relationship with a higher power. He continues to attend meetings, stays connected with others in recovery, and focuses on strength, both physical and emotional.

What grounds him most, however, is the support that never wavered.

“My brother is my unsung hero,” he says, “and through it all, my mom’s always been my mom. No matter how many times I tried to con her, she never gave up on me. She’s my great angel.

She’s taught me the biggest thing I’ve learned: people love you. Help is there. Don’t give up.”