Dr. Susan Abboud Facebook ad: “It's not willpower. It's a loop.”

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Meta Ad Library ID

1090383910016855

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Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network and Threads

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0

EU reach

1,652

Niche

Coaching & Personal Growth

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Ad text

I was so drunk that night I don't remember hanging up on my husband mid-sentence. He told me the next morning what I'd said before the line went dead: that I wished he'd just stay on the road forever so I could drink in peace. 2 days later, he found 11 empty bottles rinsed and stacked under the cardboard in our recycling bin. I don't remember hiding them either. It just happened. After 3 years of practice. I'm a functioning alcoholic. I go to work. I stay sober there. I run HR for a small company. I take care of my kids. And every night, alone on the terrace, I drank until I stopped feeling anything. I never missed a shift. Never got pulled over. People like me don't have a problem. That was the story I lived in for 3 years. I rinsed bottles. Layered cardboard. Timed trash day. Told myself it was tidiness. Nobody rinses bottles like that for tidiness. My husband drives long-haul. He's never home. So it was just me, the terrace, and a glass that became a bottle, every night. I stopped calling friends back. Gained close to 30 pounds. Stopped caring, which was the scariest part. My older son asked once why I always got quiet after dinner. I told him mommy was tired from work. True. Not the answer. A few days after the bottles, my husband got back from a long haul. We sat on the terrace and I said it out loud for the first time. I have a problem. I need to stop. He didn't look surprised. He said he'd noticed the recycling, the terrace light staying on. He'd just been waiting for me to say it. I thought I'd been hiding it. I hadn't hidden anything. So I tried everything. Naltrexone made me sick every time I drank. I quit after 5 weeks, couldn't run a payroll meeting like that. Dry January, then double in February. AA, twice to the parking lot and back home without going in. A tracking app, deleted after 11 days. Rules that lasted 2 weeks, tops. Here's what nobody tells you: almost everything I tried needed me to fail first. I started believing I was the problem. Weak. Undisciplined. Then there was Denise from benefits, who used to bring a thermos of "iced tea" to Friday happy hours everyone knew wasn't iced tea, until she just quietly stopped. No countdown app, no badge. Ordered a soda, left early, looked better than anyone in the room. I asked her how. She said 1 word that made me want to roll my eyes. Hypnotherapy. An app. 15 minutes a night, headphones on. I downloaded Hypnozio to prove her wrong and get my money back. Week 1, nothing. I still poured a glass every night. But I was too tired to keep looking for the next thing, so I kept going. Then one evening I made tea instead, and didn't realize until the kids were in bed that I hadn't thought about the gin all night. I didn't fight it. I forgot to want it. By week 3, the pull that ran my evenings for 3 years had gone quiet. Not white-knuckled, just quiet. By month 4, I'd lost 24 of the 30 pounds. Slept through the night. Someone at work asked if I'd been on a retreat. The part of you that pours the glass at 6 o'clock isn't the part that makes decisions. It's the part underneath, the same part that drives you home without choosing a single turn. Naltrexone never touched that part. Dry January never touched it. They just held the door shut. Hypnozio talked straight to it. That's why I could follow every rule for 6 days and break on the 7th, alone, hating myself. I never lacked willpower. The wiring underneath had just never been touched. A few months ago my son mentioned, offhand, that he used to know how bad a week was by how heavy the recycling bin got. He'd known. My kids had known. I was never hiding anything. It's been 7 months since I've had a drink. Zero. No pills, no meetings, no white-knuckling. I sleep through the night. I call my friends again. I sit on the terrace with tea and watch the sunset instead of drinking through it. When my husband calls from the road now, I remember every conversation. The cheapest, strangest thing I tried was the only one that worked, because it was the only one that touched the actual problem. It was never about the gin. It was about the wiring underneath. If you've tried everything and you're still stuck: you're not broken. It's not your fault. Fix the wiring first. Everything else follows. I used this program: https://hypnozio.com/landing-alc?psc=checkout-148a-alc&l=en&vndr=hypfbalcch3nocoreen

Where the ad sends people

hypnozio.com

It's not willpower. It's a loop.

No meetings. No counting. Just headphones.