Today I learned the difference between "sobriety" and "not drinking"
Member
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2012
Posts: 25
Today I learned the difference between "sobriety" and "not drinking"
Some of you may recognize my handle from the fact that I've made 3-5 posts on these forums indicating false starts, riddled with doubts, and mostly consisting of veiled, fearful questions seeking medical advice even though I'm fully aware of this board's policy against such things.
This will not be one of those posts. It will, however, by slightly long, though I make no apologies for that; I'm typing this for my own peace of mind more than for any spectator or a desire for feedback.
I went to my first real AA meeting today. It was my third meeting overall, but from now on I'll think of it as my first, because it's the first one where I introduced myself, took a white chip, took phone numbers, and listened with more than just my ears.
Pause. Rewind.
Four weeks ago I visited a new psychiatrist for the first time in over a decade. I indicated a desperate desire to quit drinking. To my relief, she seemed to be the first mental health professional in a line of more than a dozen to hear my desperation and take action. She prescribed me antabuse compounded with librium (the librium owing to the fact that I've been on clonazepam--cleaving to the prescription, never abusing it, thank God--steadily for years, predating my addiction to alcohol in fact.)
I left her office armed and elated. My life was about to change. I would take some pills and all of my problems would disappear.
I won't bother providing an account of the three weeks that followed. They were mostly dull, with the odd craving here and (more significantly) me muddling my way through half-assed explanations to friends and family as to why I wasn't imbibing any more when they asked. Never did I confidently or contentedly proclaim to anyone "I have stopped drinking because I'm powerless over alcohol."
On this day last week, three weeks into "not drinking" (note I do not say sobriety) and one week after my last dose of librium, I had a manic episode that lasted roughly four hours. I have never had a manic episode in my life. It was the scariest experience of my life, resoundingly. My fiance and future in-laws were present for the entirety of it. Fortunately, I did not harm myself or any of them, though the nature of the episode was such that the risk seemed very real.
The episode concluded with an involuntary commitment to a treatment center. I spent two full days completely "out of contact" with reality on a unit for severe behavioral disorders. I was paranoid, aggressive, and 100% out of touch with reality. The medical professionals (my new psychiatrist among them) concluded that--physiologically--the explanation for the episode was a massive build-up of dopamine in my system caused by the antabuse. After two days on the aforementioned unit, I was transferred to a unit for chemical dependency in the same facility where I became wholly lucid again and began to see the glimmer of a light at the end of a tunnel.
I saw the rest of that light today at my first real AA meeting. I've never felt community or fellowship like what I felt today. I've never sat in a room where every single word spoken by a slew of complete strangers resonated so fully with the torment in my own soul. I have no idea what my understanding of a higher power is these days, but I haven't felt as close to such a thing in my life as I did today.
I'm thirsty for more. On my way out of the parking lot, the first gentleman I met when I arrived early chased down my car and handed me a copy of the Big Book through my driver window.
I know AA isn't for everyone. But I learned today that it's for me. And I learned that even though a "build up of dopamine due to antabuse" is the textbook, physiological reason I landed myself in a treatment center with three weeks of "not drinking" under my belt, I'll probably just end up right back in the bottle--or right back in a manic episode, or right back in a treatment center--if I settle for "not drinking" rather than seeking Sobriety.
Thanks for reading.
This will not be one of those posts. It will, however, by slightly long, though I make no apologies for that; I'm typing this for my own peace of mind more than for any spectator or a desire for feedback.
I went to my first real AA meeting today. It was my third meeting overall, but from now on I'll think of it as my first, because it's the first one where I introduced myself, took a white chip, took phone numbers, and listened with more than just my ears.
Pause. Rewind.
Four weeks ago I visited a new psychiatrist for the first time in over a decade. I indicated a desperate desire to quit drinking. To my relief, she seemed to be the first mental health professional in a line of more than a dozen to hear my desperation and take action. She prescribed me antabuse compounded with librium (the librium owing to the fact that I've been on clonazepam--cleaving to the prescription, never abusing it, thank God--steadily for years, predating my addiction to alcohol in fact.)
I left her office armed and elated. My life was about to change. I would take some pills and all of my problems would disappear.
I won't bother providing an account of the three weeks that followed. They were mostly dull, with the odd craving here and (more significantly) me muddling my way through half-assed explanations to friends and family as to why I wasn't imbibing any more when they asked. Never did I confidently or contentedly proclaim to anyone "I have stopped drinking because I'm powerless over alcohol."
On this day last week, three weeks into "not drinking" (note I do not say sobriety) and one week after my last dose of librium, I had a manic episode that lasted roughly four hours. I have never had a manic episode in my life. It was the scariest experience of my life, resoundingly. My fiance and future in-laws were present for the entirety of it. Fortunately, I did not harm myself or any of them, though the nature of the episode was such that the risk seemed very real.
The episode concluded with an involuntary commitment to a treatment center. I spent two full days completely "out of contact" with reality on a unit for severe behavioral disorders. I was paranoid, aggressive, and 100% out of touch with reality. The medical professionals (my new psychiatrist among them) concluded that--physiologically--the explanation for the episode was a massive build-up of dopamine in my system caused by the antabuse. After two days on the aforementioned unit, I was transferred to a unit for chemical dependency in the same facility where I became wholly lucid again and began to see the glimmer of a light at the end of a tunnel.
I saw the rest of that light today at my first real AA meeting. I've never felt community or fellowship like what I felt today. I've never sat in a room where every single word spoken by a slew of complete strangers resonated so fully with the torment in my own soul. I have no idea what my understanding of a higher power is these days, but I haven't felt as close to such a thing in my life as I did today.
I'm thirsty for more. On my way out of the parking lot, the first gentleman I met when I arrived early chased down my car and handed me a copy of the Big Book through my driver window.
I know AA isn't for everyone. But I learned today that it's for me. And I learned that even though a "build up of dopamine due to antabuse" is the textbook, physiological reason I landed myself in a treatment center with three weeks of "not drinking" under my belt, I'll probably just end up right back in the bottle--or right back in a manic episode, or right back in a treatment center--if I settle for "not drinking" rather than seeking Sobriety.
Thanks for reading.
learning to live
Join Date: Apr 2014
Posts: 1,665
Kool post Ben! Just hang in there. I hear it gets better and better. Removing alcohol is just the starting point.
We realize there is a problem then move to acceptance of that problem...then growth and in my mind literally learning to live again. Learning to feel things. Learning to live life on it's terms.
Good stuff. Thanks for the post. And by all means if AA made you feel this great...keep going back
We realize there is a problem then move to acceptance of that problem...then growth and in my mind literally learning to live again. Learning to feel things. Learning to live life on it's terms.
Good stuff. Thanks for the post. And by all means if AA made you feel this great...keep going back
Member
Join Date: Jan 2011
Posts: 1,243
Thanks for sharing your story about antabuse... I hadn't heard about that side effect but I googled it and there are many stories like yours.
What you are learning is so very important to your future! Abstinence (white knuckling kind) is not authentic recovery (true freedom, peace and joy while living a life alcohol free).
My dad was sentenced to antabuse many years ago and he drank while on it... he was never interested in quiting the booze and he died in his alcoholism.
What you are learning is so very important to your future! Abstinence (white knuckling kind) is not authentic recovery (true freedom, peace and joy while living a life alcohol free).
My dad was sentenced to antabuse many years ago and he drank while on it... he was never interested in quiting the booze and he died in his alcoholism.
Member
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: West Tn
Posts: 3,043
We are really glad you have made such a wise choice, Ben.
I agree with Lexie in that now we have freedom.
I don't plan to give my freedom back to alcohol and the stupidity that usually accompanied my drinking.
Your story is powerful.
I agree with Lexie in that now we have freedom.
I don't plan to give my freedom back to alcohol and the stupidity that usually accompanied my drinking.
Your story is powerful.
Currently Active Users Viewing this Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
