Hevyn

Use - to abuse - to addiction. We always search for the day or hour in time when things went out of control, when we stepped over the line - but there is no such time. It happens slowly, without us even realizing it.

My first few drinks at 20 made me feel less shy & self-conscious. I remember that lovely, warm feeling settling over me - how could it be wrong? I had a golden future, with everything to look forward to. I would've laughed if someone had told me - "Keep going, & years from now you'll be a bloated, bleary-eyed blob, with a drink by your side 24/7. You'll come close to losing your life, or spending it in jail."

From my first taste, I loved it & couldn't get enough. Those first few sips began my 30 yr. descent into hell. Soon, my only fun times were those where alcohol was involved. Everyone and everything was boring without it. I never went anywhere ’alone’ - even grocery shopping couldn't be managed without running to the lady's room for a few swigs (to face the lettuce & carrots?).

As the years passed, my tolerance became huge. I didn't bother with mixed drinks anymore. It was 100 proof vodka with a splash of water. There were no more happy highs, just a numbness that I was afraid to let go of. I drove to work loaded, & drank all day. I did that for a long time before anyone had the nerve to confront me. A new low was when my boss blocked the door so I couldn't drive home - he called my husband to come for me. Humiliating - but that didn't stop me. Neither did my 3 DUI's, complete with an 8-day stay in the Women's Correctional Institute. As I was released, I thought...'I'll be more careful from now on.' My family & friends were horrified. I lost my license and car - yet still I insisted I didn’t need to quit all together.

Fast forward to Christmas 2007. After not drinking for a few months I begged my husband to have drinks with me over the holidays, telling him, "Then I’ll stop - I promise.” A month later, I was stumbling out every day to get my stash after he left for work. The evidence was kept hidden in the back of my closet. I was waking up shaking after just 2 hrs. sleep - getting up for my fix, and to pace the floors - crying with fear and shame. So many tears! Tears of remorse and self-pity. Tears of regret for all the wasted time. I couldn’t sleep, my heart would pound - I wasn’t drawing a sober breath, and there was no end in sight. I bargained and pleaded with God to lift me up of hell, just one last time. I was older now, I was badly damaged, and I knew I was looking death in the eye.

By some miracle, I found SR - searching for health problems of heavy drinkers. I read a few posts and I was mesmerized. I stopped crying. I walked away from the wreckage, and began to heal. Most of my healing began here, though I had never intended to stay. In my shakiness, I remember being annoyed at the happiness and cheer among the recovering members. Smilies, jokes and laughter - really? Yet I was hooked - and I’ve never left this treasured oasis I found.

Alcohol is a preservative. You don’t grow or change while in that other world. When I finally sobered up, my friends seemed much older. Everyone had changed, yet I had stayed frozen in my little snowglobe. I had so much maturing to do - I needed to shed so many toxic emotions. My SR friends have been instrumental in helping with that. Anxiety, anger, guilt - I had to close that book. I won’t forget what happened, but I don’t need to rehash it every day. It’s harder and braver to get back in the game and live again. We can’t reach our destination while looking in the rearview mirror.