my Story-debs

[debs]

I done had my 1 year birthdayyyyyy

I didn't make it over here to celebrate on time, so I'm a bit late! (March 24 was my big day!) .. but I just wanted to swing by and let y'all know how WONDERFUL my life is going these days! And I'm still sober! Who'd'a'thunkit!

I was reminiscing earlier today and wrote down some of my thoughts.. thought I'd share that with you.

I love you all so much! ... I pray that those of you still seeking sobriety are blessed beyond measure and delivered from the evil that is alcohol.

Finally I've written down my thoughts about my 1 year milestone which
passed a couple of weeks ago and I'd love to share them with you...

Today at work, one of my supervisors showed up on her day off with a
gift for me. I don’t know her as well as some of the others, but I do
know that she’s also a recovered alcoholic of 23 years. I met her
outside at her vehicle and she pulle out of her pocket her 1 year
sobriety pin she received from AA. Most people have at least a general
idea of how the pins work - and more importantly how special and
important they are to the individual who earned them.

I tried not to accept it because I know just how special that is and I
just didn’t feel right taking it… But she assured me that it was
something she really wanted to do and that she had 10 others just like
it… I found out later that it was the original, very first one she
received. She told me, ‘’If you wet it, you have to return it to me.
And one day, if you remain sober, you have to pass it on to another
recovering alcoholic.”

And I will.

I don’t know why I shared that with you, other than to express, maybe
just to myself, how very, very much that meant to me. Sometimes life
just gets so fast and furious and things that should be considered
monumental in a person’s life get subconsciously somewhat overlooked.
I had a glimpse of that feeling last week – not because I don’t have
an amazing family and group of friends that support me 110%, but just
because … well, life simply goes on.

Knowing that she felt led to share something so cherished with me
brought me back to the building blocks of recovery. We, as alcoholics,
must NEVER, EVER forget the struggles and tears and pain that went
into our recovery process. What we have accomplished is huge. It’s a
phenomenal achievement that each and every one of us should be
monumentally proud of. I’m so grateful that Jackie reminded me of
that.

The past year has been an absolute whirlwind of almost supernatural
events. When I look back at where I was a year ago, it almost takes my
breath away the changes and blessings that have poured out into my
life. I cannot even express in adequate words how astounding the
experience has been. Words are so meaningless sometimes.

I remember laying in my bed suffering in the weeks preceding the best
decision I have ever made in all of my life. Getting on that plane to
Seattle, I remember sweating and shaking and crying myself to near
death. Every trace of life had been sucked out of me. I was a heaping
pile of rotting death. I had given up on hope. I had cried out,
begged, tried, tried, tried...... and I had failed... over... and
over... and over.

AA meetings, counseling, out-patient rehab, church, fervent prayer...
literally dropping to my knees and screaming out in agony... begging,
screaming, just pleading for deliverance.

I COULD. NOT. STOP.

I just couldn’t do it. And I had gotten to the point of surrendering
to the inevitable ending to my short life. I was only 28 years old… I
was just starting my life. Yet I was ending it. I could feel my body
shutting down. The only chance I had at peace of any kind was that
initial drink each time I woke from a drunken blackout. The agonizing
truth was that the peace it provided was so incredulously short-lived:
just a mere flash of relief as I poured the poison down my throat.
Immediately following, it never failed, that all-too-familiar dagger
through the heart, that terrifying realization… The shame, the guilt,
the helplessness, the desperation... arrived in all of its glory,
undefeated. It laughed as it spat upon my face and told me what a
worthless, sick, dying piece of **** I was. I didn’t deserve to live.
I didn’t deserve to breathe. But most of all... I didn’t deserve to
care for my son, my everything, the precious little extension of
myself...

My raison d'être.

I had truly arrived at the darkest, saddest, hopeless rock bottom of
my life. I had resigned myself to death and hell.

Schick Shadel. I’m in tears as I write this because that place... that
remarkable place with such precious, caring, amazing people … TRULY
saved my life. My precious friend, Jim. I owe my very life to that
man. God revealed to him my suffering, through a silly, drunken
Facebook post I'd written one evening. He used him to deliver me. He
doesn’t get near the credit he should for what he did. He made my
recovery possible. He contacted John in Seattle, another angel in my
recovery, with information about 'this girl in Texas he was concerned
for'... The following days resulted in the beginnings of what I now
believe was a profound case of divine intervention. All of the
necessary pieces came together to make the impossible, indeed,
possible. The thousands upon thousands of prayers that had been
offered up were finally being answered. I had no money. I had no
insurance. I had no strength. I had no resources of any kind. Yet,
through hard work and sleepless nights my dad, Jim, John, and a
multitude of other people worked as hard as they could. Through blood,
sweat, and tears … they worked… and it paid off. The money needed to
get me there, an impossible $10,000.00, astoundingly was provided.
Jesus made the way for me – he made it possible for me to NOT die – to
LIVE. My church even donated over two thousand dollars to help me get
there. It was unbelievable. Within days I was on a plane.

The flight there was horrendous… Pouring drink after drink down my
throat, my body finally screamed out....

‘ENOUGH!’

I heaved and vomited and sobbed into the airplane toilet for three of
the four hours it took to fly to Seattle. A stewardess held my hair up
and lamely attempted to tell me how important getting sober was. It
ANGERED me at the time. Who was she to give ME advice about
alcoholism? Who the hell did she think she WAS? I was DYING. I KNEW it
had to end. I was losing my BABY. It infuriated me that she felt as if
I didn’t know what I HAD to do.

Bless her. She didn’t know… how could she? She was desperately trying
to make what appeared to be a hopeless situation somehow hopeful. She
didn’t know the miracles that were about to unfold in front of my very
eyes. I was escorted off the plane by paramedics; every eye was on me.
Impatient travelers gawked at this tired, exhausted, fat, disgusting
DRUNK. They didn’t see the little girl scared, the broken heart, the
agony, the suffering, the guilt, the shame, the pain; no, all they saw
was a sloppy drunk interfering with their plans, forcing them to wait
that much longer to get off of the plane.

I continued the agonizing heaving, vomiting nothing but bile. The
nurses and doctors at the ER were disgusted with me. They turned their
noses up and labeled me a pathetic drunk: the scum of the planet. I
was so very, very defeated. I single-handedly defined the phrase 'rock
bottom'. Despair? I know all about it.

When I walked through the doors of Schick Shadel hospital, something
changed in me. I was no longer a worthless, shunned scumbag of
humanity. I had PURPOSE. I was a very ill young woman who was viewed
as someone who was BRAVE, not disgusting. I was someone who had HOPE,
not disparity. I, for the first time since I’d resigned to death, when
I looked into Sam’s eyes, discovered that I was going to be OK.

I was going to live.

I was going to be my parents’ daughter again.

My brothers’ sister.

My uncles’ and aunts’ niece.

My son’s mother.....

I was going to be the intelligent, beautiful, career driven, hard
working woman that God had planned for me to be.

I was going………. To LIVE.

It was a profound moment in my life and I’ll never forget Sam’s caring
gaze. I’ll never forget the warmness the place offered to me. I’ll
never forget the love and compassion that permeated the halls of the
hospital. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and laid down my burdens.
As I lay in bed that night, the hallucinations came and went, the
seizing, the D.T.s- all very unpleasant experiences- showed their ugly
faces… but it was somehow peaceful. I knew, in spite of all of the
physical anguish of detox, that this was the start of a new beginning.
This was my salvation. I was being delivered, not for merely another
failed attempt. No, this was different.

I was being healed.

I walked into the doors of that hospital defeated, broken, everything
BUT dead… I left Schick Shadel a confident, happy, beautiful young
woman with a bright future and an amazing recovery to look forward to.
I was never going to look back… the days of darkness were over...
never to be revisited again.

The next weeks and months were amazing... blessing after blessing
poured into my life. Pounds fell off of me with little effort, what
had started as a part time job became a full time one- with benefits,
in spite of my bout with surreptitious imbibing while on the job. Life
sprung back into my eyes. I was back. My baby had his mommy back.

My precious little-me held me tight just a couple weeks ago and in his
own, 10 year old way, void of verbal expression, told me how happy he
was to have his mommy back. Tears fell down my face as he held me- so
wise beyond his years. He knew how bad it was. He undoubtedly prayed
fervently with the rest of my family and loved ones for my
deliverance... and he was grateful. Bless his precious, young heart.
Bless him. One day he’ll realize just how paramount he was and is to
my very existence.

I immediately found an apartment and moved into my new home within
DAYS of returning from treatment. The blessings showered over me, day
after day, month after month… I registered, once again at the college;
I joined the gym. Everything in my life was falling effortlessly and
exquisitely into place.

And I’m happy to report that today my life is happier and more full of
joy than ever before. I have an amazing job, amazing friends, amazing
family, a precious aunt living with me in my home. She moved in with
the mindset that she was receiving help from me, but has turned into
quite the opposite. She has been such a profound blessing to my life.
She’s provided companionship and fellowship with a fellow believer in
Christ. I cherish her so much and while I've never really known her
all of my life, we've become more like best friends than aunt and
niece. She and I are so much alike, it's hard to believe. I adore her
so very much.

I’m two weeks from graduating with my Bachelor's degree... My one year
mark of sobriety is celebrated with the earning of that degree, a feat
I’d previously accepted failure towards. I have dropped, are you ready
for this? 70 pounds, in a single year- SEVENTY pounds! … I’m in better
shape now than I’ve ever been in my life.

I'm unable express adequately the level of gratitude I have in my
heart for all of the people who prayed for me along my journey, for
all of the people who made my recovery possible, for all of the people
who LOVED me, in SPITE of me, allowing me to prove, once and for
all... that I was going to live my life to its fullest potential.

Today is a new day, a gift - and I am truly, genuinely, and humbly
grateful... to have in my permanent grasp, my most prized possession:
my untouchable sobriety.

March 24, 2010: never again will this day be just another day. It is
the day that marks the beautiful beginning of the rest of my life.

And for that…… I am unequivocally grateful.