An Unfiltered Look at Love, Addiction, and Recovery: An Interview with Melissa Stoeltje

In her raw and compelling memoir, Drunk Love, Melissa Stoeltje takes readers on a deeply personal journey through the insidious grip of high-functioning alcoholism and the profound impact it had on her marriage, family, and sense of self. With wit, vulnerability, and unflinching honesty, she lays bare the moments of chaos, self-deception, and ultimate redemption that shaped her path to sobriety.


By Library Tales Publishing
6 min read

An Unfiltered Look at Love, Addiction, and Recovery: An Interview with Melissa Stoeltje - Library Tales Publishing

In her raw and compelling memoir, Drunk Love, Melissa Stoeltje takes readers on a deeply personal journey through the insidious grip of high-functioning alcoholism and the profound impact it had on her marriage, family, and sense of self. With wit, vulnerability, and unflinching honesty, she lays bare the moments of chaos, self-deception, and ultimate redemption that shaped her path to sobriety.
Stoeltje’s story is about resilience, self-discovery, and the power of storytelling as a means of healing. In this interview, she opens up about what inspired her to write Drunk Love, the challenges of reliving painful moments on the page, and the lessons she hopes readers will take away. Whether you’re someone struggling with addiction, supporting a loved one through recovery, or simply drawn to stories of transformation and perseverance, Stoeltje’s insights offer a beacon of hope.

Let’s dive into our conversation with Melissa Stoeltje

Q. What inspired you to write Drunk Love? Was there a defining moment that made you decide to share your story?

A. I actually got the idea to write this book while I was still in rehab in 2010. I started journaling during my first week of a 28-day stay, hoping to wrest some kind of sense or meaning from the insanity unfolding around me. What? Me? A professional woman who still looked “great on paper” ended up in rehab? What the hell? 
When I left, the idea came to me to document everything that transpired during my first year of sobriety—both as a way to frame the manuscript and to contain its scope. At the time, I had no idea what kind of wild roller coaster ride I was in for. It was truly a year from hell—and heaven.

Q. Your memoir explores high-functioning alcoholism and its impact on relationships. What do you hope readers struggling with similar challenges take away from your book?

A. During the last five years of my drinking, I cycled in and out of a 12-Step program for alcoholics (a program I don’t name in the book for anonymity reasons). In meetings, I’d sit and listen to people talk about weekend-long benders, DUIs, jail stints, titanic blackouts, lost jobs, lost homes, wrecked cars, and morning jitters—and I’d think, Man, I don’t belong here.
But the fact was, I had damn near destroyed my marriage with my drinking, and I had hurt my beloved only child with my drunken behavior. Here’s the deal: You don’t have to take the elevator all the way to the basement to claim your chair in 12-Step recovery (the Big Book, our foundational text, says as much). If my story can help even one high-functioning alcoholic get to recovery faster than I did—and cause less damage to their family in the process—then the pain will have been worth it.
Also, I know as sure as I’m breathing that those dire consequences would have eventually found me. Alcoholism is a progressive disease; it always gets worse. It never gets better.

Q. Writing a memoir requires vulnerability. How did you navigate telling such a personal story while balancing privacy and honesty?

A. Oh boy, that’s a biggie. I knew going in that if I was going to tell my story—and, in tandem, my husband’s story—then I’d have to be willing to put it all out there. Mary Karr (my idol, who wrote a flabbergastingly good recovery memoir) has said that if you’re going to attempt memoir, you have to make a pact with yourself to tell the truth—about yourself, about those close to you, warts and all. If you’re writing to make yourself look good, you might as well hang it up, because that’s not what memoir is about. That’s self-hagiography, and most savvy readers can pick up on the stink of a snow job pretty quickly.
It also helped that I was doing recovery work while writing my manuscript. A huge part of my recovery journey has involved letting go of shame, one of the defining emotions of my life pre-sobriety. Shame is a corrosive emotion, a real dickhead, and I want no part of it. (Guilt is something different, and it has its purposes.)
At the end of the day, this book is about finding remission from a fatal and progressive disease. Pray tell, where’s the shame in that?

Q. Did you discover anything surprising about yourself during the writing process?

A. One of the hardest parts of writing this book—and rewriting it, and rewriting it, and rereading it a gazillion times—was reliving the chapters that capture the moments when my drinking hurt my son, Sam. I recount those episodes in agonizing detail, and with the distance afforded by time, recovery, and the writing process itself, I’m still floored each time I revisit them. Watching from a remove, I see how my twisted alcoholic brain somehow rationalized and denied the damage I was causing. It stuns me even today. But that’s the disease of alcoholism—it tries to convince the sufferer she doesn’t have it. It’s a tricky son of a bitch.

Q. What was the most challenging part of writing this memoir? Were there any chapters that were particularly difficult to put on paper?

A. Other than the parts about my son, the most difficult sections of the memoir, writing-wise, involved capturing my relationship with my husband—both before and after I stopped drinking. Which, of course, is the bulk of the book. We were both so sick for so long. Re-reading those chapters, I want to scream at both of us: Get your shit together!
But we had to go through what we went through to get where we are today—joint participants in a wonderful, joyful marriage that exceeds anything either of us could have ever wished for or imagined. Mind you, it remains a human marriage; there are still moments when neither of us behaves like bright, shining stars. But the difference is that today we have tools (thank you, 12-Step!) to better navigate the sometimes-rocky terrain that comes with two people committed to the long haul.

Q. What role did storytelling play in your recovery journey?

A. For over three decades, I worked as a newspaper journalist, a profession rooted in a style of writing that involves far more “telling” than “showing.” Memoir, like fiction, depends heavily on showing—creating scenes with dialogue and sensory details so the reader can step into the world and derive meaning and emotion on their own, rather than being explicitly told what to feel.
Because of my journalistic training, I was somewhat allergic to this style of writing, and it took real effort—and some pain—to overcome my internal roadblocks to it.
Storytelling is also a huge part of 12-Step recovery. We share our stories in meetings, and that’s how we find healing. With the help of a Higher Power, too, of course.

Q. Do you have any advice for readers who may be facing similar struggles or supporting loved ones through addiction?

A. I think one of the biggest messages in my book is that recovery is possible—even for high-functioning alcoholics steeped in denial, as I was—and that relationships and marriages can be healed, if those involved are willing to do the work.
For me and Mark, that work included attending countless 12-Step meetings (we both continue to attend our respective programs) and seeking the help of a therapist well-versed in 12-Step recovery. (Pro tip: Stay away from therapists who lack a background or experience in addiction; they will be outmatched by your issues.)
I also believe Mark’s long-overdue “tough love” decision to leave me—which, in turn, forced my long-overdue decision to admit I had a problem—speaks volumes about the role enabling plays in keeping people sick for far longer than necessary.

Q. If there’s one message or feeling you want readers to walk away with after finishing your book, what would it be?

A. It’s this: There is hope.


Mark your calendar—Drunk Love releases on May 13, 2025! Be among the first to experience this unforgettable memoir by pre-ordering your copy today. 

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