- Alcohol
- Drugs
submitted by Susanne Johnson
I thought if I could just figure out why I was an alcoholic, I could somehow use that knowledge to fix myself and change my situation and circumstance. I have come to learn that “why” is unimportant to someone in thrall to a permanent, progressive and fatal illness.
My sponsor says, “’Why?’ is not a spiritual question.” That’s not to say the question has no value. Intellectually it may hold all the answers to the age-old riddle of alcoholism. When I was living trapped in the bottle, Why?” only served to keep me locked in the problem with no hope of freedom. For me, “Why?” has always been a question better left to doctors, scientists and three-year-olds. Complete acceptance of my predicament only came when I stopped asking why and just conceded that I was truly an alcoholic. Only then could I begin to live in the solution.
My drinking (and drugging) career lasted 26 years. I didn’t find recovery until I was 40 years old. My story isn’t the worst of the worst, and I was by no means the best of the best. Although I like to think of myself as somehow superior or inferior to everyone else, the more stories I hear, the more I come to realize how average I am. I used drugs and alcohol because I liked to. I lived for the effects they produced. In the beginning it was fun and I enjoyed drugs and alcohol to their fullest potentials.
I could write a novel about what I drank and used, where I did it and who I was with. There are funny stories, happy times, tragic incidents and shocking tales, yet none of the events really accurately define how I drank and used.
When I drank I could not control the amount. I suffered from physical cravings beyond my control that necessitated I drink more. When I first started, I could manage and moderate on occasion, but it was always an endeavor requiring all the willpower I could muster, and it was never the way I wanted it to be. Every time I tried to control my consumption, I was unfulfilled and unhappy because I couldn’t drink how I wanted to. A night of controlled drinking was an unwelcome chore, and as my illness progressed, it became a living nightmare in which I was never satiated or satisfied.
While this sounds horrible, on their own cravings are not so bad. Theoretically if I never put alcohol in my body, I would never crave it. The only problem is that I discovered my illness was twofold. Not only did I have a physical craving beyond my control, I also suffered from a mental obsession with alcohol. Even without putting alcohol in my body, my mind became wrapped around the thought of the next time I could drink. Sometimes it was a loud, easily recognizable call, and other times it was a quiet, nagging pang, but neither could ever be controlled or ignored. I was always drawn toward the next drink, and the craving would kick in. This cycle repeated itself for what seemed like a lifetime. If I was able to-stop, I could not stay away from alcohol. I was the type of alcoholic who had to exhaust everything before I was able to become willing to accept a solution other than myself. Consequences suffered never honestly defined my alcoholism, but they were strong indicators that something was terribly wrong with me.
Visits to doctors, trips to rehabs, stints in jail…hearts broken, children abandoned, wife divorced, home broken, friendships ruined…unemployed; financially, morally and spiritually bankrupt. The true cost of a drink meant I had traded in everything I thought was me.
Completely depleted and hopeless, I found myself in a treatment center for the last time. It was there that I became willing to do things differently. It was there that I completely surrendered and became convinced that I could not beat alcoholism on my own. I began to accept help, follow direction and do all of the things required to recover from the seemingly hopeless state of mind and body I knew to be alcoholism.
The treatment center was an effective timeout, a safe place to eat, rest, and heal, but my recovery began with a 12-step recovery program where speakers would come in and talk about how they lived as happy and productive sober alcoholics. It was through this program that I met my sponsor. He story resonated with me, and I decided if this way of life worked for him, perhaps it could work for me.
My sponsor promised me that if I worked the 12 steps, staying sober while I did it, I would be relieved of the obsession to drink and never have to pick up again. It sounded like a good deal, and I chose to believe that it could work for me. In all truth it wasn’t much of a choice. My only options left were to recover or die, and the slow suicide of drinking seemed unfathomable.
What I did to get sober and what I do to stay sober has not changed since I came into the rooms. I go to meetings regularly, I work steps in all areas of my life, I have a sponsor and a sober support group I remain in constant contact with, I actively participate in service work, and I nurture my spiritual relationship with a power greater than myself on a daily basis. This has yielded six years of sobriety achieved one day at a time. The work has been simple but not always easy. The program isn’t for those who want or those who need it. The program is for those who do it. I have no reservations that if I continue to do the work, I will continue to be rid of the obsession to get loaded. Without the mental obsession, if I don’t put anything in my body, I will never awaken the physical craving.
Sobriety has not stopped life from showing up, but as life presents itself, good or bad, my solution has not been drugs or alcohol. That is the miracle of 12-step recovery: freedom to live life clear and connected to the rest of the universe. Thanks to the program of action, I have watched my world transform and healed relationships I thought were lost forever. I have been blessed with a new design for living, and my solution for dealing with life is no longer drugs and alcohol.
If you drank like me, you may be an alcoholic. If you are an alcoholic, there is hope. Ask for help; my hand will always be there. For that I am responsible.