- Alcohol
- Faith
- Mental Health
HI – my name is Bethany and I’m a grateful Christian in recovery from alcohol and I struggle with depression, anxiety, food and nicotine. Jesus doesn’t make bad people good; He makes dead people come alive. He did it for me, and he can do the same for you!
I was born March 30, 1965 in Columbus, OH. When I was 4, my parents moved to a Perrysburg, OH (a suburb of Toledo) and they still live there today! That’s 45 years in the same house, married for 50! My dad sold malpractice insurance and my mom stayed home with us. I have 2 younger sisters. So, that makes me a first born and an Aries, which means I don’t like to fail and like to get my way! We went to Sunday school every weekend and I believed in God, just didn’t know how to have a relationship with him.
Growing up, I was told I could be anything I wanted to be. So at about 6, I got a football helmet that I often sported it with my ballet outfit! I also got an easy bake oven and the play kitchen. I still bake to this day, but never played football for Ohio State. I took gymnastics and piano lessons, was on the swim team and dive team. In high school, I was on student council, a cheerleader, in choir and was in the National Honor Society. I was a lifeguard, taught swimming lessons and coached the diving team and became the Assistant Manager of the pool.
This is where my drinking started. Occasionally we would call the city to let them know we were staying late, and have a pool party. Yes, drunken swimming and diving included – smart huh? When it rained and we got the day off, we would head to someone’s house – usually the basement- and play drinking games. I excelled at binge drinking. Although I went to concerts and parties where people were doing a lot more than drinking, I never really did. I smoked once however after my senior prom, but when leaves blew across the road on the drive home, I freaked out because I thought we were running over chipmunks!
When I graduated high school, I attended Miami University – which is in Ohio. There was always a frat party to go to on the weekends where I could perfect my binge drinking – one time I passed out in the middle of a field while walking home and luckily a sorority sister found me and got me home.
After graduation, my dad gave some of his best advice – to get a job related to health care. I got a job in the IT department at St. Anns Hospital in Columbus. One dreary February day, I interviewed for a job in Orlando, and 3 weeks later I lived in Florida. I then moved to Ft. Lauderdale which was a great place to spend your 20’s!
When I was 29 I met my ex-husband and moved to Ft. Myers. We lived the yuppie lifestyle with a big house, with a pool, country club membership, rental condo, cottage on the beach, cabin in the mountains, and a BMW. After my first daughter was born, I didn’t want to travel anymore and got a job as a drug pusher – pharmaceutical rep! 23 months later, my second daughter was born. Soon after, we added the requisite dog to the picture. Then my downward spiral started!
My ex-husband was an avid golfer, so I was often left with the girls on my own, a golf widow. He also started living by the saying ‘it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission’. He often was out golfing with his buddies, not coming home or even calling. He would miss events as well. I did not realized I was being verbally abused, which I call non-verbal abuse, because he could go weeks without speaking to me, until I took a class in order to volunteer at the ACT shelter.
I stayed busy raising two girls during the day, and started drinking to relax in the evening. That glass of wine in the evening quickly became 2 then the whole bottle, then two bottles! I had to get drunk to sleep, but still was up and running the next day. 10 years into the marriage we divorced. I just told my step study that you have to be careful what you wish for because I told him I’d rather live in a cardboard box than have all of this stuff and be miserable! I had failed at marriage and the depression was setting in.
I downsized the house and although I wouldn’t drink during the week until the evening, I was starting earlier on the weekends, especially when the girls were with their dad. It killed the pain. I was put on probation with the pharmaceutical company after being drunk at a dinner meeting with a bunch of doctors. My house flooded a couple of years later and that started the dive into deep depression. While my entire house was ripped up, my router taped to a ceiling fan, I was still expected to work. I ended up on short term disability for depression, and in the end of that never went back.
I spent the following year, spending my 401K, sleeping a lot during the day, getting the kids from school and drinking myself to sleep. My car was repossessed and my mom gave me hers. I had a mistake on my taxes to the tune of 8000 dollars, had my debit card number stolen, I also would have sex with about anyone I met on the internet trying to fill the empty place in my soul with love. I lost the house to foreclosure and stepped down again to a rental townhouse. I was doing a good job of going down. I gave up saying that things couldn’t get any worse, because every time I did, I was shown that it could!
I was working for Xerox by now and always stressed about money. I was still good at being a single parent during the day, but switched to vodka at night when wine wasn’t cutting it. I missed a few deadlines for my kids and even called the police once because my oldest didn’t come home on the bus. She was at dance tryouts and I’d forgotten.
I was miserable inside! I prayed for a job that was fulfilling. Along came Lifelink. I got a job working in organ donation. My co-worker Patti really helped me start to smell the roses again. She actually saw the blue sky and flowers blooming. Things were going great, or so I was told. I thought this was finally the job I would have till I retired. But the day after my birthday, which was the last day of my temporary contract, I got a call on a Saturday morning telling me that they were not going to hire me and they did not have to give me a reason. It just wasn’t a good fit.
I was crushed! It was a good thing that my girls were with their dad that weekend, because I got drunk for the whole two days. I managed to sell a few things to pay the majority of my bills, but money was running out. I still managed to buy vodka though to block the fact that I wasn’t finding a job and wasn’t sure what I was going to do for money day to day. I sent the girls to live with their dad until I got my act together. That was two years ago and they are still there. I spent a lot of time at the beach watching the sunset, listening to the band and watching people fish on the pier. I started staying later and later, or I should say earlier and earlier. I figured after so many years of being a single mom, I deserved a break.
I met a guy down there and after running into him a couple of nights in a row, took him to breakfast around 3am one day. He moved in, we drank a lot and the police were called a lot for disturbing the peace. I was very angry, yelled a lot and threw a lot of things. After a night of heavy drinking and sex fantasies gone horribly wrong, I said blank you and put a knife in his thigh. A call to 911 brought not just an ambulance, but two fire trucks and a half a dozen sheriff cars and a couple unmarked ones, in a gated community. Rumor had it that I had hit him over the head with a wine bottle and set him on fire. After taking one look at the crime scene, strewn wall to wall with ‘paraphernalia’, the detectives literally ran to their cars. I really don’t know why I did, but I then went and picked him up from the hospital. We continued to drink, fight and throw things. I often asked myself ‘who is this person’ I had become. We also ended up behind the wheel and are very lucky that we didn’t kill anyone else, let alone each other. It didn’t take long till one day, we were drunk and arguing, and he took off with my car, wrecked it, it got impounded and he went to jail. I got kicked out of my townhouse and had nowhere to go but to his moms house. From jail he told me about a Christian support group.
I went a few Fridays and attended church a couple of times on Sundays and really enjoyed it here. It was when I was most relaxed and to prove it, my stomach would growl. There was a Labor Day picnic that year for the group and although I hate going to things like that by myself, especially when I don’t know anyone, I made myself go. I prayed that God direct me to a table with someone who I could talk to and be of help to me. I ended up sitting next to Michelle, and soon Eugene, Scott from the band and Greg, the director. I didn’t really know them at the time, but they were all the ‘right’ people!
When my mom came to visit and had to stay in a hotel I was completely embarrassed and ashamed. I was the high achiever that had everything, and now I had nothing. My girls visited briefly, but it was just awkward and weird. After she left, I basically spent a week in bed. Yes, a week, not a day. I knew something was wrong. With the advice of my ex, my mom flew back down, I packed what little I could fit in my mustang along with my golden retriever and we drove to Ohio. I did not even see the girls before I left. I just knew I had to get out of there.
The day after we arrived at my childhood home, my dad had me in for an evaluation. Everyone thought I would need in house treatment, but they put me in an intensive outpatient program. I did that 3 days a week, attended 3 12-step meetings a week and church on Sat night. Other than that I lay on the couch and watched TV. I was in a deep depression – what kind of mom was I? Who leaves her kids? Who picks alcohol over their children? I was also very anxious about everything! It made me nervous to even text my girls let alone call. Just before Christmas I got a letter from my ex’s attorney explaining that he had taken full custody of my girls. I was devastated! They were my world! He said I had abandoned them. So when my 3 months were up of IOP, I decided to go back to Florida. I have always hated the cold weather, it was January, and my friend was out of jail, and I wanted to see my kids!
A day or two after getting back to Florida, to the same house I ran from, I went to the Wednesday service at church. That night, I went to the altar and rededicated my life to Christ. Jepson prayed with me. I can’t tell you a single word he said, I just know it was right on! I joined the step group on Tuesdays and took my friend to 12-step meetings twice a week. I found my sponsor here on a Friday night and started working the steps with her as well. That’s all I did for about a year!!
Throughout the year, I had this face with scrunched eyebrows, or this one with eyebrows up. I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to do my homework, I didn’t want to call my prayer partner but knew I had to or I’d be right back to drinking and die! The ladies talked about going to the Bible when they were sad or troubled, calling it a self-help book, and I was doubtful. I did however, hear someone say that she had a normal childhood and had no one to blame for her drinking but herself – me too I thought. I managed to hear a least one little something that I could ‘use’.
Still, I prayed for God to remove me from the whole situation. I prayed for a do-over. I prayed to win Publisher’s Clearinghouse. Some nights I prayed to just wake up dead! I did not want to kill myself; I simply wanted to be dead. I felt empty, lonely, afraid, angry, horrible, etc. None of those prayers were answered overnight like I wanted, but something (or someone) kept me coming back to the church’s support group. Mark 2:17 says, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor – sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.” My group was where I needed to be – I wanted what they had.
I was anxious, depressed and isolated. I had no idea who I was. I merely existed. I totally related to Psalm 6:2-3, “Pity me, O Lord, for I am weak. Heal me, for my body is sick and I am upset and disturbed. My mind is filled with apprehension and with gloom.” And with Job 30:27, “My heart is troubled and restless. Waves of affliction have come upon me.” I was a dead person walking. I would wake up each morning with a tight chest, and panicked about what I had to face that day, which was not usually much more than going to a meeting or blocking everything out by playing games on the computer or watching movies and things on TV. Everything made me nervous! It was especially bad when I had to interact with others. The worst was when I was going to see my girls. I was ashamed, embarrassed, a failure, bad mother, loser, etc.
My Swiss cheese looking brain had trouble focusing on anything. My mantra became “I don’t care.” That was the only way I could deal with what was happening – to pretend I didn’t care. I avoided everything I could! I shoved all feelings deep down and buried them with food! I used to imagine a statue of Jesus that I saw of him sitting cross legged and would picture myself crawling in his arms so he would hold me like a baby. The one thing I wasn’t was drunk! I used to drown my feelings in alcohol and now I was actually feeling them. But I had a little faith – about the size of a mustard seed. Mark 9: 24, “I do believe, but help me overcome my unbelief!”
Around August, I finally went to get help with my depression and anxiety. I worked the steps not only with my step study group, but with my sponsor. I was really uptight about the 4th and 5th step. I managed to write the 4th step and then tell her everything! A lot of what I had done she could relate to because she had been through the same thing, or something similar. If she hadn’t done it herself, she knew someone who had, or at least was very understanding. Although it was a huge relief to get that over with, I did not have the instant ah-ha moment others had talked about. I’m more of a dimmer switch. But I kept at it. I realized that God had forgiven me, but how could I possibly forgive myself?
At some point I mentioned in my Friday small group that I wanted to volunteer and next thing I knew I was working the literature table. I went to a couple of Christmas get-togethers and actually had fun without drinking.
I even managed to send out a couple of resumes for jobs I thought I could tolerate. But instead of hoping they would call for an interview, I was terrified that they would! I didn’t want them to call, and they didn’t. I didn’t care!
When my mom came to visit in early December, I wasn’t looking forward to this! I kept hoping something would come up in her life so that she couldn’t come. But she did. The girls came to the hotel and we baked. And we baked and baked. I remember at one point the tension easing up a bit. This was actually going ok! All in all, I survived the weekend! And the dimmer switch turned up a bit more.
I now look back on the year 2013 not as the year I merely existed, but as the year Jesus carried me just like the poem Footprints in the sand. I crawled into his arms and he carried me through the year.
The end of 2013 also meant the end of my step study. I knew as soon as another step study started, I was going to do it again to work on all the other issues I had uncovered besides alcohol. Greg called me couple of weeks before it was to start to let me know that one of the facilitators had to step down and he thought of me to fill the spot. What? I’m still messed up. I’m going to be in the class. Pray about it he told me. So, I took the next couple of days to pray, but also tried to call anyone who would agree with me that it was too soon, no way could I do that just yet. I never managed to actually talk with anyone ‘live’. So, I said OK to Greg, the whole time inside thinking I was crazy!
In 2014 things started to happen. I was actually enjoying things! I now notice and appreciate the little things in life. I look at things with a smile instead of regret. I call people. I don’t mind going to the grocery. I really enjoy my step study group and have made a whole bunch of new friends! Against my internal voice telling me not to, I became a sponsor. One Thursday night at Rated R for Recovery, a live radio show, I took a huge step. I didn’t just have John introduce me to Leslie from Street Chicks in Recovery, but I asked for a job! I found something to be passionate about. The dimmer is hitting high gear!
To this day, I still wake up anxious about the day. The difference is, I read my devotionals as soon as I’m up and give my day to God. I also look up Bible verses that go with the devotionals and with the step we are on in group. I don’t cry during the praise and worship songs any more, I sing them at the top of my lungs. The giant hole in my soul that I tried to fill all kinds of ways is filling in with the Holy Spirit
I’m still scared that I’m going to fail or not be good enough for a lot of things, but try my best to let go and let God. With his help, I’m getting stronger every day! I am also going to start another small group, the one for food! After that, I’ll consider stopping smoking, but one habit at a time!! I would not be 1 ½ years sober without God or my support group.
One of my devotionals recently said ‘So, if you really want something to boast about, boast about Jesus and what He’s done for you. Look for opportunities to turn the spotlight on Him.’ and that’s what I hope I am now doing.
Don’t give up before the miracle happens!
Thank you, God bless and go God!