- Alcohol
I am the youngest of five children. My parents divorced when I was 10 years old. My father was an alcoholic of the worst kind, and my mother was and is plagued with depression. I have been around alcohol my entire life. I remember drinking it when I was maybe five years old. It was “normal” for me.
I grew up in a small town where everyone knew everyone. I was a part of the dysfunctional family in the town. My brothers smoked weed, drank a lot of booze and usually were breaking into some building they shouldn’t be. My friends were not allowed to spend the night at my house. It broke my heart when I had a birthday party in sixth grade and only one person showed up. My dad came home drunk as usual, but my one friend liked to drink so it didn’t matter to her.
I began running with the wrong crowd at a very young age. My mother worked nights as a registered nurse, and it gave my siblings and I all the freedom we wanted. I was drinking a few days a week and smoking weed and cigarettes by the time I was 12. In my small town, it was the thing to do. My weed-smoking career was cut short when I had a panic attack while getting high. I never smoked after that. I didn’t know what a panic attack was at the time, and I didn’t know that it and others would eventually lead to agoraphobia and many other fears.
My mother and I didn’t get along. I hated her. She had her favorite child, and it was not me. She was never nice to me. I wasn’t a kid who was causing trouble. My mother despised me for reasons I can only assume, and she claimed I was unruly and put me in juvenile detention for a couple of weeks. I was beyond angry at her. I decided to live with my father. He was still drinking, and I loved it. I was permitted to smoke cigarettes whenever I wanted and drink beer in the middle of the day. I could miss school and swear all I want. However, all of this freedom was not worth it when my father’s drunken fits would scare me to death. All of the freedom in the world was not worth losing sleep wondering what he would do to me. I went home to my mom, and she was proud to learn I wasn’t happy there. I guess that was my lesson about consequences for smoking cigarettes and being out after the street lights turned on
I was pregnant at 17, and I dropped out of high school. I was devastated. I wanted so much to be the only one in the family to “make it.” You know, go to college and be something other than drunk or on drugs. I quickly accepted my fate, and when my daughter was born, I was amazed. She was and still is the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to my life. Her father and I tried to make things work, but we were just too young. He was never in her life.
I was a “going to the bar” drinker, and I rarely drank in the house. I always worked and had plans of being and doing something. I wanted a house, a good job and a decent car. My daughter and I accomplished this by the time she was 10. I had my ups and downs with alcohol and being a complete selfish ass. I met a married man and had a lengthy affair. I was 18; he was 33. My affair with him changed my life in many ways. He was a businessman and had high expectations of me, and at the same time, I was his toy. He was mentally abusive and unfaithful, and he crushed my young heart many, many times. I dated him for five or more years. I destroyed his marriage by being sure the wife found out. I did this while drunk of course. I also terminated three pregnancies. It was a messy few years. He wouldn’t let me go. I did not know I had a problem with drinking. I drank a lot but not around my daughter. I thought that meant I was not dependent on alcohol.
I met a man who wasn’t married, and he married me when I was 28. He was everything I wanted in a person. He didn’t drink or do drugs. He was loyal, a Christian and from a tight family and had two kids of his own. He seemed to worship me. As soon as we got comfortable, the panic attacks returned, and I was home-bound. I couldn’t leave the house without extreme anxiety. I figured out that alcohol would take this fear away, and before I knew it, alcohol was taking over my identity. My husband and I did some really crazy, stupid things while drinking, many of which I regret wholeheartedly and am ashamed of. He was a lot of good things, but one thing he was not good at was working. My credit was gone, my household furnishings were gone and my self-worth was gone. I was drinking every day, and I was miserable. My daughter was hidden from most of it. She was a shining star, and I encouraged her to spend a lot of time with friends, know what I mean?
I went to outpatient treatment in 2006, and I got divorced sober in 2007. I was so far in debt I couldn’t see, and my house was about to be foreclosed. I called up that married man I used to date, and he bailed me out of my financial trouble. I am extremely independent and don’t like to borrow, so I worked for his businesses for free to pay off the debt. I went back to school and moved my mom into my house when she had nowhere to go.
I moved in with the formerly married man who was now a widower, and it didn’t take long for us to return to old behaviors. We were drunk and fighting four nights a week. He was the same old man I used to know, and I was the same old girl I used to know. I relapsed after 1.5 years. I was divorced, my daughter was off to college, my step-kids wouldn’t talk to me. I was a drunk. I was broke and with “him” again. I put myself into a 90-day inpatient program of which I completed 50 days. I felt brand new. My mother was still living in my house rent free, and getting empathy from her was like pulling teeth. My life was insane.
I stayed sober for about a year before I relapsed again. My boyfriend, the married man, was still actively drinking and didn’t seem to care if I was sober or not. My debt to him was paid off, and I could leave at any time, but I couldn’t seem to do it. I had no purpose. He was my purpose. He and his business.
It wasn’t long before I relapsed again. This time I overdosed on Ativan, Prozac and lots of alcohol. My daughter, bless her heart, came to my rescue and witnessed it all. I woke up at her house, and I was so ashamed of who I was. I had grandchildren now, and they really, really loved me. I had more of a purpose, but I didn’t recognize it. I was too interested in alcohol and dealing with the panic, fears and shame of a life gone wrong by my own hands.
I put myself into rehab again in Florida. It was a 30-day program, and I completed 28 days. I drove 13 hours to Florida, drunk. The treatment center was fantastic. I learned so much. I met so many great people, and I took it seriously although not seriously enough. After returning home I went back to two full-time jobs, caring for everyone I knew except myself, not working any planned recovery and dating the boyfriend who was still drinking. I relapsed three months later. I returned to Florida with the help of my brother in November 2013. This time was different. This time I surrendered.
I walked into the treatment center raw. I was spent. I was done. I was drinking 24 hours a day. I never spent a moment of the day without alcohol in my bloodstream. I didn’t want to live, and I was too afraid to die. I went on my first “binge” and don’t really remember those three days of my life. I couldn’t play anymore. My BAC was so high that I blew a .25 after not drinking for 8 hours. Before I stopped drinking that morning, I was .40. I was 5’1″ and 105 pounds, malnourished, dehydrated, depressed and at the end of my road, so it’s a miracle I’m still alive. I had no more fight left.
They took me into detox where I had major DTs and spent seven lonely, frightened and extremely sick days there. I went on to stay over 45 days in rehab, and I did everything they told me to do. I didn’t care what it was. I knew what I had been doing was not working. I was reborn there.
I’m four months and a few days sober today. I try not to keep track. It’s not the quantity, it’s the quality. What have I done differently after my fourth treatment for alcohol addiction? Glad you asked. I have a huge support system including my boyfriend who is also four months sober. I attend an IOP program, I have a therapist and I do online volunteer work that keeps me active in a recovery program for more than two hours each day. I have made many friends, something I never did before, and I’m honest with myself and others. I’m learning everything again. I’m a child learning to walk at the age of 43. I discarded the old me altogether. I couldn’t fix her. She was too broken. I started over again. I live for my sobriety right now. I do things I don’t want to do, but I am always glad I’ve done them. This is building strength I never had before. I’m enjoying things now that I never thought I would, and I’ve only just begun.
This is a long trip, and I’m only a few months in. I never let my guard down. I discard the negative in my life and replace it with something positive which is a lot of work. I say no sometimes, and my people-pleasing days are over. I’m still very codependent, but that’s getting better with therapy. I’m on a path of self-awareness, mindfulness and self-love. I never forget that I’m in recovery and will be for a long time. I take nothing lightly, because it’s my life on the line. Next time I won’t make it. Next time will be the end. Today it’s important for me to be here and to stay here. I love my daughter and her family, and they love me. That’s enough for me today. My new friendships are producing new love as well, and that’s very healthy for me. I continue to work two jobs but have a schedule for work and a schedule for me. I’m focused and determined, yet exhausted.
“The unexamined life is not worth living,” so I intend to examine each and every piece of it. I’m a new person today, and it feels good. It feels very good.
Thanks for reading.
Peace and love.