Have any of your had an intervention?
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Jul 2008
Posts: 482
Have any of your had an intervention?
When I was drinking this was my absolute worst fear. I couldn't imagine anything worse (um however killing myself from booze?! Silly brain).
I'm curious - do people really hold them, and what are they like? Are they as bad as I'd imagine (I'm thinking I'd be embarassed and pissed off to no-end) and have they actually made a difference?
I'd be interested to hear from people who've been involved in them/been the subject of one or just generally get peoples views on them.
I'm curious - do people really hold them, and what are they like? Are they as bad as I'd imagine (I'm thinking I'd be embarassed and pissed off to no-end) and have they actually made a difference?
I'd be interested to hear from people who've been involved in them/been the subject of one or just generally get peoples views on them.
Member
Join Date: Apr 2010
Location: Singapore
Posts: 737
People tried a few times (half hearted) to intervene with my drinking - spur of the moment kind of thing. Did so by trying to take bottles away from me in the middle of a binge. Let me put it this way, it didn't end well for them, or me. Come to think of it, on every occasion when people tried to intervene with my addiction it either ended in a massive argument or a physical fight. It was definitely relationship ending activity.
Intervention is a TV show IMO. That's it. Thing is, I knew I had a serious problem long before deciding I needed to fix the problem. From my own experience no one was able to stop me until I was capable of seeing my own way past it. Bottom was where I had to end up, full stop. Anyone pointing out the obvious to me before my bottom was just meddling and irritating. Being honest now in retrospect, if someone had told me I needed help back then I'd have thought they were lunatics, because to me there was NO help... My alcoholic mind had me convinced that I was destined to die that way and no one could understand because I was a special sort of messed up. Total nonsense sure, but that's how the booze brain works.
Having said that, I'm sure there are some personalities out there who might benefit from loved ones taking a stand and trying to shed light on their drinking problem. But I've always had an issue with confrontation, in that if I'm confronted my go-to reaction is to get aggressive, and if I'm drunk I can get violent when confronted with anything. Besides, at the end of my drinking 'career' there was no one around who cared enough to try and stop me, since I had drank away all my relationships.
Bloody horrid illness.
Intervention is a TV show IMO. That's it. Thing is, I knew I had a serious problem long before deciding I needed to fix the problem. From my own experience no one was able to stop me until I was capable of seeing my own way past it. Bottom was where I had to end up, full stop. Anyone pointing out the obvious to me before my bottom was just meddling and irritating. Being honest now in retrospect, if someone had told me I needed help back then I'd have thought they were lunatics, because to me there was NO help... My alcoholic mind had me convinced that I was destined to die that way and no one could understand because I was a special sort of messed up. Total nonsense sure, but that's how the booze brain works.
Having said that, I'm sure there are some personalities out there who might benefit from loved ones taking a stand and trying to shed light on their drinking problem. But I've always had an issue with confrontation, in that if I'm confronted my go-to reaction is to get aggressive, and if I'm drunk I can get violent when confronted with anything. Besides, at the end of my drinking 'career' there was no one around who cared enough to try and stop me, since I had drank away all my relationships.
Bloody horrid illness.
Self recovered Self discovered
Join Date: Aug 2011
Location: Toronto Canada
Posts: 5,148
I think I had an intervention. It really started the night before, with my very proud and long suffering wife at the end of her rope, actually calling my parents for their help (I am 54).
I was off work being unsuccessfully treated for depression and anxiety and drinking my @ss off. My drinking had progressed to the point where I was in pass out mode at 8 in the evening. My short term memory was shot since I was blacking most days, and there wasn't much point in trying to engage me in any conversation after lunch because it was a cr@pshoot whether I would remember anything about it the next day.
I answered the bell the next morning to see my parents at my front door, having just driven a couple of hours from their home. Somehow, I knew why they were there, and put another pot of coffee on to brew.
Ma and Pa explained that my wife had phoned the previous evening in tears, unable to continue with me as I was. I understood that swallowing her pride to ask for help in her life, in her marriage, especially from my family, was a bitter, bitter mouthful.
Pa then proceeded to explain things as he saw them to me. I needed to choose between continuing to drink and losing my marriage, any contact with my near adult children, my job, my home, and my life. Or I could choose to stop drinking NOW, by any means I chose. They offered me their home, suggested an inpatient detox centre, AA, anything, but this was Go-Time. My call.
I took a quiet minute to myself, and made my choice.
Next, my wife returned home from her errand and my daughters appeared as well. I needed to tell them about my decision. I also wanted to hear what they had to say about how they felt about their lives with me, as it had been for the previous few months. That was hard for me, for example, to hear my daughters describe how they had emptied my garage of a couple of hundred Smirnoff empties before my wife returned from an extended trip, out of concern for her and her worry.
I haven't had a drink since that day, August 22, 2011. My parents had given me life, and a life full of every opportunity. On that day, they gave it all to me again. I will never again refuse and reject those gifts.
I hope that this pathetic recounting can help someone, anyone, to overcome their fear and self doubt, to put on their big boy pants as I did, and choose what life has to offer them.
I was off work being unsuccessfully treated for depression and anxiety and drinking my @ss off. My drinking had progressed to the point where I was in pass out mode at 8 in the evening. My short term memory was shot since I was blacking most days, and there wasn't much point in trying to engage me in any conversation after lunch because it was a cr@pshoot whether I would remember anything about it the next day.
I answered the bell the next morning to see my parents at my front door, having just driven a couple of hours from their home. Somehow, I knew why they were there, and put another pot of coffee on to brew.
Ma and Pa explained that my wife had phoned the previous evening in tears, unable to continue with me as I was. I understood that swallowing her pride to ask for help in her life, in her marriage, especially from my family, was a bitter, bitter mouthful.
Pa then proceeded to explain things as he saw them to me. I needed to choose between continuing to drink and losing my marriage, any contact with my near adult children, my job, my home, and my life. Or I could choose to stop drinking NOW, by any means I chose. They offered me their home, suggested an inpatient detox centre, AA, anything, but this was Go-Time. My call.
I took a quiet minute to myself, and made my choice.
Next, my wife returned home from her errand and my daughters appeared as well. I needed to tell them about my decision. I also wanted to hear what they had to say about how they felt about their lives with me, as it had been for the previous few months. That was hard for me, for example, to hear my daughters describe how they had emptied my garage of a couple of hundred Smirnoff empties before my wife returned from an extended trip, out of concern for her and her worry.
I haven't had a drink since that day, August 22, 2011. My parents had given me life, and a life full of every opportunity. On that day, they gave it all to me again. I will never again refuse and reject those gifts.
I hope that this pathetic recounting can help someone, anyone, to overcome their fear and self doubt, to put on their big boy pants as I did, and choose what life has to offer them.
Member
Join Date: Dec 2005
Location: Baton Rouge, La.
Posts: 15,237
At 30 yrs old I had no clue as to what an
intervention was. No idea. However, soon
after my intervention took place and I had
some sober time behind me, I eventually
learned about intervention and why it happened
to me.
Feb. 1990 I was involved in an accident on
my way home at 2am from a club. I ran into
some construction less than a mile from my
home. I hit a 2 ft notch cut out in the road
and ran off the rd hitting a concrete culvert
sitting on top the ground. EMS was called and
I spent the next 10 days in the hospital with
removal of a punctured spleen so i wouldnt
bleed to death. Numerous contusion, broken
ribs etc.
I went home with pain meds and recovered
quickly in a few months with no alcohol involved.
As soon as i didnt need the pills any longer the
craving of alcohol became quite strong in which
I gave in to it.
August 1990, the progression of my alcholism
was soooo rapid that i ended up returning home
from the same club to only be confronted my
a spousal arguement. Emmediately on a dare
to end my miserable failure of a life i wanted
to die and downed a hand full of pain pills with
wine thinking this was it with my life.
The next morning my little babies tried to wake
me for their last day of bible school with no
luck. In a distance i could hear my phone ringing
which was rt. next to my bed. I answered in a
slurred voice with my in-law calling for the where
about of my kids for school. In a concerned voice
I heard get up and i did to run to the bathroom
to throw up what i could of the pills i had in my
system.
Fast forward a few hours, all is quiet in my home
as i was left alone by myself. Minutes later my
husband is trying to drag me to the car to take
me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped
to only fight him off with every ounce of my strength.
He left for awhile to return with his dad and 2 officers
ready to take me away somewhere's i had no clue.
I walked passing my husband and in law with daggers
in my eyes and hatred in my voice saying I hate you
both and off i walked out my back door to enter the
back of a police car driven away like a criminal. Loser.
Failure. But totally pissed.
I spent that night in a physciatric ward surrounded
by those mentally ill. shuffling across the floor and
hugging the walls. For my safety i was placed in
my own room by myself which made me feel a tad
safe. the next day i was given numerous test to determine
if i was sane or not. I passed of course with them
telling me i had a drinking problem and that was it.
28 days i stayed in rehab recieving the tools and
knowledge of my alcoholism before being set on
my path of recovery living a day at a time incorperating
these tools and knowledge in my everyday affairs.
That was 21 yrs ago as i continue on my recovery
journey anxiously awaiting for the next exciting thing
to happen in my life. Rewards that im truely grateful
for.
Do i still harbor resentments for what transpired
21 yrs ago. No. Im grateful for family stepping in
to get me help i so desperatly needed at that time
in my life. They were doing for me what I couldnt
do for myself.
Intervention became an important step toward
my recovery and im grateful for it.
intervention was. No idea. However, soon
after my intervention took place and I had
some sober time behind me, I eventually
learned about intervention and why it happened
to me.
Feb. 1990 I was involved in an accident on
my way home at 2am from a club. I ran into
some construction less than a mile from my
home. I hit a 2 ft notch cut out in the road
and ran off the rd hitting a concrete culvert
sitting on top the ground. EMS was called and
I spent the next 10 days in the hospital with
removal of a punctured spleen so i wouldnt
bleed to death. Numerous contusion, broken
ribs etc.
I went home with pain meds and recovered
quickly in a few months with no alcohol involved.
As soon as i didnt need the pills any longer the
craving of alcohol became quite strong in which
I gave in to it.
August 1990, the progression of my alcholism
was soooo rapid that i ended up returning home
from the same club to only be confronted my
a spousal arguement. Emmediately on a dare
to end my miserable failure of a life i wanted
to die and downed a hand full of pain pills with
wine thinking this was it with my life.
The next morning my little babies tried to wake
me for their last day of bible school with no
luck. In a distance i could hear my phone ringing
which was rt. next to my bed. I answered in a
slurred voice with my in-law calling for the where
about of my kids for school. In a concerned voice
I heard get up and i did to run to the bathroom
to throw up what i could of the pills i had in my
system.
Fast forward a few hours, all is quiet in my home
as i was left alone by myself. Minutes later my
husband is trying to drag me to the car to take
me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped
to only fight him off with every ounce of my strength.
He left for awhile to return with his dad and 2 officers
ready to take me away somewhere's i had no clue.
I walked passing my husband and in law with daggers
in my eyes and hatred in my voice saying I hate you
both and off i walked out my back door to enter the
back of a police car driven away like a criminal. Loser.
Failure. But totally pissed.
I spent that night in a physciatric ward surrounded
by those mentally ill. shuffling across the floor and
hugging the walls. For my safety i was placed in
my own room by myself which made me feel a tad
safe. the next day i was given numerous test to determine
if i was sane or not. I passed of course with them
telling me i had a drinking problem and that was it.
28 days i stayed in rehab recieving the tools and
knowledge of my alcoholism before being set on
my path of recovery living a day at a time incorperating
these tools and knowledge in my everyday affairs.
That was 21 yrs ago as i continue on my recovery
journey anxiously awaiting for the next exciting thing
to happen in my life. Rewards that im truely grateful
for.
Do i still harbor resentments for what transpired
21 yrs ago. No. Im grateful for family stepping in
to get me help i so desperatly needed at that time
in my life. They were doing for me what I couldnt
do for myself.
Intervention became an important step toward
my recovery and im grateful for it.
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