LeAnne's Story
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Join Date: Jun 2004
Location: Washington
Posts: 5,093
LeAnne's Story
My name is LeAnne and I am an alcoholic. It has been a little over 1 year since I googled AA recovery board and Sober Recovery popped up. I had never been a member of any message board before. This was a new experience for me and it has been a wonderful one. SR has been a pivotal part in my recovery and I plan on keeping it that way. I remember reading other people's recovery stories and wishing I could have one year of sobriety under my own belt. It seemed like such a challenging accomplishment, so far away and unattainable. Now, here I am telling My Story. I never thought it possible to achieve 365 days of sobriety in concession. It is possible. With patience and living One Day at a Time, it can be achieved through the help of others who understand and have shared the same pain as I. Understanding the pain, the insanity, makes us the same in many ways. I have come to truly feel for and care about my fellow recovery friends who have helped me along my way. You mean a great deal to me. Words cannot express this enough.
This is my story of what it was like, what happened and what it is like now.
The first time I got drunk I was 14 years old. After attending an underage beer bash, I stole (borrowed) my parents avacado green, country sedan Ford station wagon, circa 1972 and drove it through the neighbors fence. Bad idea and I continued on with many more bad ideas following an uncontrollable bout of drinking. Thinking back, I must have been around 9 when I was given my first Sloe Gin fizz at Christmas time. I thought it was a fabulous concoction. How does a cocktail end up in the hands of a 9 year old in the first place? Something tells me it doesn't really matter. I would have discovered it on my own eventually. I feel I was destined to encounter a love/hate relationship with my predisposed disease. Alcohol was a major component growing up in my family household. It still is. I just no longer partake in drinking it. I have given up on the notion that I can have just one. I cannot.
I married the bad boy, the party guy at age 21. After 2 children and 13 years of marriage, our relationship was destined to fail from the very beginning. We got married for all the wrong reasons. We were simply young and ignorant. Our relationship revolved around drinking and partying and I had a hard time keeping up with his fast pace. I was a trooper however and always gave it my all. Seldom was my attempt favorable. Alcohol contributed to many painful experiences. Our marriage was riddled with dysfunction and abuse causing me alot of pain and resentment that has take me years to sort through. After separating, I got a job working at the local bank and enjoyed my newfound independent lifestyle. I drank on a regular basis, but remained a functioning alcoholic. At that time, associating the word alcoholic with myself never crossed my mind. I was merely a drinker. I liked to drink. After about 2 years, I crossed the line. The invisible line that nobody realizes but recognizes in retrospect. I was experiencing many difficulties in my life and I chose alcohol as my escape and coping mechanism. That would be the beginning of my decline. The introduction to my ism in its beginning phases. Not being able to recognize how severe the problem was at that time, I found out the hard way where my drinking would lead and how low I would sink into the depths of alcoholism. My denial ran deep giving me free reign to continue the insane cycle of drinking for a solution only to have it exasperate the situation. My drinking was bad, but unbeknownst to me, it had the ability to become much worse and it would within a relatively short time. The progression of the disease is astonishing to me.
Needless to say, I got fired from my job and the two that followed. Towards the end of my second job, my father died suddenly of a heart attack and all the chaos fueled my reasoning and excuses to drink. This allowed me to wallow in my own self-pity. Something we alcoholics like to do and do it well. I spent the days after my father's death drunk. In fact, I was drunk when the phone call came to inform me of his death. The sad fact is, I would always find a reason to drink whether concocted or substantial in my mind. It didn't really matter. My father's death was a valid reason. I was grieving therefore I drank, wouldn't you? I focused on the injustice of my life. The poor me and if you lived my life you would drink too nonsense. My ex-husband was an ass, my coworkers didn't appreciate me. My family didn't understand me or know my pain. I was a pathetic mess and it's a wonder that people didn't run when they saw me coming. Lord have mercy on the poor soul that had the courage to ask me how was I doing not knowing they would get the full version whether they wanted to hear it or not. I was clueless and remained so for a long time to follow. I was not a very cheery or pleasant person to be around. I exuded negativity and couldn't or wouldn't see the good in anything. It isn't a wonder that good things weren't happening in my life.
Being unemployed and unemployable, I had to much time to drink. Not having a job, I supported myself on cash advances from credit cards. I did that for over a year and unfortunatly today, I reap the consequences. I went from denying I had a drinking problem to not caring. I liked to drink and that was that. If somebody didn't like it, tough. I didn't care what anyone thought, but of course I really did. I knew people were noticing my decline and I was ashamed and embarrassed by it. I knew I was better than what I had become. I knew I had much more to offer than a drunken slurr and a broken promise. My defensive attitude covered the fear of what I was really trying to hide. Deep down, I knew I was in trouble and didn't know what to do or how to do it. If I want to get truly honest, I probably wasn't really ready to do much about it anyway. I may have been somewhat concerned, but I had much more drinking to do. More pain to experience. I am an alcoholic. Drinking is what we do.
My drinking was taking its toll on my health. There were many trips to the Dr.'s office seeking answers to what was wrong with me? Tremors, high blood pressure, stomach problems, bladder infections, vitamin deficiencies were a few of my physical ailments. Then there were the emotional ailments. These were the worst. Anxiety, fear, feelings of discontent, loss of self-esteem and confidence, anger, loss of ambition and compassion, depression. What was my purpose in life other than to drink and be miserable? I was drinking night into day, day into night. Hating every second of it. It was no longer pleasurable, but a necessity. It had been for a long time. If I were to stop, I would experience alcohol withdrawals. That is a reality that hits hard. No one wants to be an alcoholic. No one aspires to that. Looking into the mirror and facing the alcoholic looking back is an ugly and scary experience. I remember trembling and feeling in a state of panic. The reflection in the mirror mouthed the words, "Oh my God, I'm an alcoholic". The truth hurts. I was horrified by the notion and the realization . It was the first time I was willing to acknowledge the truth in its entirety. I had been pushing the truth aside for some time. It was indeed a fact. There was no denying it. The face staring back in the mirror confirmed the truth. What had I become and how had I allowed it to happen? It wasn't supposed to be this way.
I had a solution. I would go to the Doctor and confess my sins. Somewhat. I would never really reveal how out of control my drinking had become. I would hide the shame. I would merely tell him I drank to much and wanted to quit. He would then give me a miracle drug that makes it easy to quit. I'd swallow a pill and all cravings for alcohol would subside. Life would be good. That was my plan. I held onto that notion because I knew I couldn't quit on my own. I tried many times before and couldn't make it more than a few days. Try as I might, I would always sucumb to the powers of alcoholism. It called to me. My Doctor didn't seem shocked when I told him about my drinking problem. He didn't even bat an eye in shock or amazement. He only suggested I go to AA meetings. No way, I wasn't going to go there. I wanted no part of AA without even knowing anything about it or how it works. It wasn't for me. I had my own preconceived notions of the program. I knew I wouldn't like it.
The miracle pill fell through. My insurance company wouldn't cover its cost and I was devastated. I reeked of alcohol when the pharmacist told me the news. I saw the empathy or perhaps pity in his eyes. He patted me on the shoulder and told me that there was help out there. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I walked away in dismay and went home to drink. After all, I had just gotten some disheartening news. I had been denied my solution to my drinking problem. So I dealt with it in my own way. I Drank more and continued to do so. Insanity.
I lay in a stupor for days only rallying long enough to drive to the store to buy more booze. I was pathetic. Anxiety would take over towards the end of my supply. I had to keep the continuous flow going or I'd be hurting. The thought of withdrawals scared me. The anxiety attacks were brutal. It took everything I had to plan my drinking and to follow through on my plan. The planning and drinking filled my entire day. At this point my family stepped in to try to help. They were petrified I was going to die from alcohol poisoning. I was beat. I was ready for help. I had been for sometime. I didn't know what to do. I only knew how to continue with my daily routine of drinking. I know it seems simple to pick up the phone and make a simple call, but I was pretty much incapable of simple tasks at that point. I was ready to admit defeat and accept that I had to go to AA meetings because I was a hopeless drunk who needed help and needed it right away or I may die. I felt like I was already dead inside. My soul had become overshadowed by booze. No light could enter in.
A phone call was made and I met and talked with a member from our local AA group. We discussed the organization and made arrangements for me to get to a meeting. I was given a Big Book. We talked for hours over breakfast. It was the first real meal I had had in along time. After eating, I grew antsy and had to leave. The calming effects of the bottle of wine I drank before our meeting was starting to ware off and the jitters were starting to set in. I needed more to drink. I made my excuse to leave and went to buy more booze. After all, I had made progress. I had made arrangements to go to a meeting. I was making progress in getting the help I needed. Time for another drink.
My first impression of my AA meeting wasn't a good one. I thought it was very strange indeed. Judging from my first AA meeting, there wasn't much I liked about it at all. It wasn't long until I drifted away from meetings and avoided everyone that was involved. I white knuckled it for about 30 days then relapsed. After I relapsed, I felt horribly guilty and felt as if I let everyone down. I had let everyone down, including myself. I was going to do things differently this time. I was going to actually get a sponsor and work the steps. I drove to a woman's meeting in our neighboring city 1 hour away. I confessed my relapse and asked a woman to sponsor me. She said she would be honored to. After that initial meeting, we didn't talk about sponsorship again. We would still see one another at meetings and exchange hellos, but the subject never came up. It was strange. She was waiting for me to bring it up and I for her. Neither one of us made any attempt. I still find it puzzIing why she didn't initiate the exchange of words. I know I was just as capable of the subject as she, but felt ackward and inexperienced in the situation. I lasted about 60 days after that. I then had the relapse that has changed my life to this day. I hope I never experience anything like that ever again. The results of that relapse has put the fear of drinking into me. Time has passed and the images have faded somewhat. Although not enough to put it behind me forever. I will draw upon the memories to help keep me sober today. My last drinking experience was a futile attempt at drinking like a normal person. It was a hard lesson learned from the crazy lull of alcohol.
It started innocent enough. I was stressed out by the stress de jour. I was going to have just a few glasses of wine. I deserved it after all. I had worked hard and a few glasses of wine would be a fine calming reward for my efforts. I was better aware this time around. I had better tools to cope with my drinking. I could handle it. I had certainly drank more in the past. I had the situation under control. So I thought. I didn't use any of my newfound tools at all. I uncorked the chosen bottle and had it gone in seconds flat. I swigged straight from the bottle forgoing the glass and didn't stop until every last drop was gone. I don't know why I didn't sip it like a normal person would. I contribute my actions to my obsession. Afterwards, I walked over to my neighbors. They were having a BBQ. I tried to hide my guilt and my drunkeness. My best friend was at that party. I chit chatted and made small talk the whole time knowing I had just unleased a monster and was trying to cover it up. I felt as if I had betrayed everyone. I was living a lie again and had just broken a commitment I had made to myself and others. Within a few minutes, the guilt didn't matter anymore. Easily forgotten. What really mattered was drinking more. Off I went to the store to buy more. A bigger bottle this go around. Incidently, no messing around with corkscrews from that point on. It only slows you down. I moved straight to the twist off caps. Nothing but the finest for this alkie.
Nine days later, I was physically beaten by my obsession. As hard as I tried, I was no match for its prowess. It had kicked my ass and kicked it hard. I put up a good fight though, but once again, I was defeated by its strength. I threw in the towel and finally made that call for help. Better late than never. I had to ask for help. That I knew. I knew I was in deep trouble and I would never stop if someone didn't intervene. I would continue on until something terrible would happen. I don't remember much of anything about those nine days or few days that followed after. It probably is a blessing that I don't. What little I do remember, I'm trying to forget. When I was finally able to function and acknowledge my surroundings, I was greeted by about 25 or more empty wine bottles, the large ones, and one empty bottle of vodka. Ugh...not my favorite poison, but somehow I justified that bottle into my binge. I think it about killed me. It was cheap vodka and I swigged it straight from a shot glass. I never swigged vodka form a shot glass before, but this time around it seemed like a good idea. More insanity.
During that binge, I wanted a drink and that I did. I drank until I had had enough. I think we have to do that to ourselves before we can truly understand how much we need sobriety. You really have to want it. We have to beat ourselves up enough until we are finally ready to surrender. I surrendered to the fact that I am powerless over alcohol. I have proven that over and over again. I no longer crave alcohol or want it to be a part of my life. I prefer life sober. The thought of drinking makes me shudder with disgust. Mainly from what it represents to me. To me it represents nothing but pain and misery, certain defeat. To drink will only bring me pain. Alcohol is never a solution to any problem. It is only a contributing ill factor. It has taken me many years to finally come to that conclusion. I no longer wish to argue that fact. It is pointless in doing so. It is what it is. I can live with that. I have to. I really have no choice in that matter. My disease is a part of who I am and I can re-build my life around it.
There is a solution. Many people before me have changed there lives and I can learn from them. Others can learn from me. Together we can share our victories, our defeats and go on to live fulfilling lives. Something I hadn't been able to accomplish for a very long time. My life was nothing more than a miserable existence. All joy had been sucked from my world. I had banished myself to a self imposed misery created by my own alcohol consumption. It's that simple. No more pointing of fingers. I am responisble for my own actions. Time to rid myself from the darkness and negativity. Life doesn't have to be that way. We have choices. We need to make choices to fit our needs. For me, that is going to AA. If that didn't work, it would be my responsibilty to find a solution that did.
I continue to go to AA and work the program. I'm not always thrilled with the program or the people. There I said it. I don't think there is any perfect program. Bottom line, AA has saved my life. I will learn to tolerate the negative aspects I've crossed in the program. I will do whatever it takes to stay sober. Any differences I have with the program are my own problem, no one elses. I need to adjust accordingly. I am responsible for my own outcome. It will be an ever changing process. As time goes by, I get a better understanding of the program and its process. It is quite clear to me that it works if you work it. Thank goodness there is a solution for people like me, the hopeless alcoholic.
In the beginning of the program, I was inpatient and wanted instant results. Within time, I've come to understand that we need time to heal spiritually, physically and emotionally. The emotioanl roller coaster was a difficult adjustment to get through, but it does pass and get easier. Learning to feel again without stuffing my feelings was also a real eye opener, but I lived though that as well becoming all the more stronger in doing so. We all grow stronger if we give it the proper chance.
My life has changed tremendously since the day I drank my last drink. Of course, I'm much happier for obvious reasons. No big suprise. You eliminate the problem, things are bound to get better. I'm able to appreciate the little things in life. Things that had no importance before bring me new meaning and joy. I never wanted to take the time or make the efforts to enjoy little things such as a sunrise or the birds singing to welcome the start of a new day. Infact, I dreaded the start of a new day. If you allow it to, alcohol overlooks any joy and casts a dark shadow on our souls. Thank God, I finally got it. Drinking has sucked the joy from my life for the last time. I am taking back control by not allowing it to consume me.
My HP continues to work in my life. Six months ago, the phone rang and I was asked to come to work at the job I'm working now. It came to me after a long drawn out search for employment. The strange thing is, as the phone was ringing, I instantly knew why it was ringing and what the call was about. I knew that everything was going to be alright. My job search had come to an end and I could breathe a big sigh of relief. Finding viable employment was my biggest hurdle to cross in reentering sober society. I've come along way in the last year. Everything I had hoped for and more is coming true. Not always easy by any means, but much better than they have been in a long time and much easier than my drinking days. Drinking was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. It is a tough regimen to uphold.
The promises are true. I can finally say that. What a relief. I have a job I enjoy, I'm working on a solution to my financial problems. There is light at the end of the tunnel on the financial horizon. I feel much more at ease and can handle stressful situations better than before. I know a sense of calmness and serenity. I no longer find myself wrapped up in drama and negativity. I'm able to think things through with a reasonable outcome. My anxiety has all but disappeared and I'm able to face my fears head on. I've found my self-esteem and my self-confidence once again. In doing so, I've found myself. Someone who was lost for a very long time. I've been getting reaquainted with myself for the last year. I'm not as bad as I had made myself out to be. I can live with myself these days. I can sleep well at night and wake up to the challenges and promises of a new day, not the feelings of dread and remorse. Life is good again. Things seem to work out in a favorable way almost in an eerie sense. Just when I least expect it, something exciting pops into my life out of leftfield.
The end of my drinking days were ugly and undignified. It is nice to be able to share my joys and difficulties with others who can be supporting and understanding and not judge me for my past. Things seem to fall into place when you are ready to handle them. I'm at a good place in my life. Probably the most grounded I've ever been. I think I'll be okay as long as I continue to work on myself and my recovery. Complacency is my worst enemy now.
With the help from my HP, I can get through any given situation sober. I've come to depend on my faith. I am weak without it. I stick with my own kind. I share with people who can relate and understand my ways for they have walked a mile in my shoes. My life depends on my sobriety. I don't know what tomorrow may bring, but with each new passing day, I need to work on staying sober. Sobriety is truly a gift. Life is full of surprises and tomorrow remains a mystery. With sobriety, I have a better chance of surviving the mysteries. If you are reading this and think you are a hopeless drunk and can't get sober, I'm here to tell you that you can. I have had 365 daily reprieves. The fact that I have been able to abstain from drinking for any given amount of time still amazes me. My life revolved and depended on that next drink. Now, the thought of drinking just seems like a really bad idea, unappealing and without promise. Drinking isn't a solution, living through another day sober is.
Thank God for change and the willingness to do so. As I sat in my Homegroup meeting the other night, I heard a sound that made my skin crawl. It brought me back to a horrible and hopeless time in my life. The sound is meant to be joyous and represent good times. Not for me. It may sound silly, but I have a terrible association with drinking when hearing the sound of an ice cream truck. It was making the rounds in the neighborhood where we hold our AA meetings. The owners of the truck are neighbors of mine. When they first got the truck, I would be lying in a drunken stupor and be awaken from the chimes of its musical approach. I would gain enough awarness to be reminded of my terrible drinking cycle and feeling the pain from its results. While most people were out enjoying and living life, I was hiding in a back bedroom trying to escape and dull my pain. I hated that sound for reminding me of how bad my life had become and how out of control I really was. I had given up on living and resorted to just existing. That haunting sound was a reminder that nothing had changed even though I really hated what I was doing to myself. At the meeting, I associated that sound to something bad, but in truth, I couldn't have been in a safer place at the time. Sitting around the tables listening and sharing is keeping me strong and establishing firm ground for me to stand on. I plan to remain standing on firm ground. I have changed my life and I'm finally happy. Why would I risk losing that? Drinking isn't worth it. Thank God for change, hope, faith, determination and the drive for a better way of life. My name is LeAnne and I am a grateful alcoholic. This is my recovery story. Even though you have come to the end of my story, for me, it is just the beginning.
LeAnne
This is my story of what it was like, what happened and what it is like now.
The first time I got drunk I was 14 years old. After attending an underage beer bash, I stole (borrowed) my parents avacado green, country sedan Ford station wagon, circa 1972 and drove it through the neighbors fence. Bad idea and I continued on with many more bad ideas following an uncontrollable bout of drinking. Thinking back, I must have been around 9 when I was given my first Sloe Gin fizz at Christmas time. I thought it was a fabulous concoction. How does a cocktail end up in the hands of a 9 year old in the first place? Something tells me it doesn't really matter. I would have discovered it on my own eventually. I feel I was destined to encounter a love/hate relationship with my predisposed disease. Alcohol was a major component growing up in my family household. It still is. I just no longer partake in drinking it. I have given up on the notion that I can have just one. I cannot.
I married the bad boy, the party guy at age 21. After 2 children and 13 years of marriage, our relationship was destined to fail from the very beginning. We got married for all the wrong reasons. We were simply young and ignorant. Our relationship revolved around drinking and partying and I had a hard time keeping up with his fast pace. I was a trooper however and always gave it my all. Seldom was my attempt favorable. Alcohol contributed to many painful experiences. Our marriage was riddled with dysfunction and abuse causing me alot of pain and resentment that has take me years to sort through. After separating, I got a job working at the local bank and enjoyed my newfound independent lifestyle. I drank on a regular basis, but remained a functioning alcoholic. At that time, associating the word alcoholic with myself never crossed my mind. I was merely a drinker. I liked to drink. After about 2 years, I crossed the line. The invisible line that nobody realizes but recognizes in retrospect. I was experiencing many difficulties in my life and I chose alcohol as my escape and coping mechanism. That would be the beginning of my decline. The introduction to my ism in its beginning phases. Not being able to recognize how severe the problem was at that time, I found out the hard way where my drinking would lead and how low I would sink into the depths of alcoholism. My denial ran deep giving me free reign to continue the insane cycle of drinking for a solution only to have it exasperate the situation. My drinking was bad, but unbeknownst to me, it had the ability to become much worse and it would within a relatively short time. The progression of the disease is astonishing to me.
Needless to say, I got fired from my job and the two that followed. Towards the end of my second job, my father died suddenly of a heart attack and all the chaos fueled my reasoning and excuses to drink. This allowed me to wallow in my own self-pity. Something we alcoholics like to do and do it well. I spent the days after my father's death drunk. In fact, I was drunk when the phone call came to inform me of his death. The sad fact is, I would always find a reason to drink whether concocted or substantial in my mind. It didn't really matter. My father's death was a valid reason. I was grieving therefore I drank, wouldn't you? I focused on the injustice of my life. The poor me and if you lived my life you would drink too nonsense. My ex-husband was an ass, my coworkers didn't appreciate me. My family didn't understand me or know my pain. I was a pathetic mess and it's a wonder that people didn't run when they saw me coming. Lord have mercy on the poor soul that had the courage to ask me how was I doing not knowing they would get the full version whether they wanted to hear it or not. I was clueless and remained so for a long time to follow. I was not a very cheery or pleasant person to be around. I exuded negativity and couldn't or wouldn't see the good in anything. It isn't a wonder that good things weren't happening in my life.
Being unemployed and unemployable, I had to much time to drink. Not having a job, I supported myself on cash advances from credit cards. I did that for over a year and unfortunatly today, I reap the consequences. I went from denying I had a drinking problem to not caring. I liked to drink and that was that. If somebody didn't like it, tough. I didn't care what anyone thought, but of course I really did. I knew people were noticing my decline and I was ashamed and embarrassed by it. I knew I was better than what I had become. I knew I had much more to offer than a drunken slurr and a broken promise. My defensive attitude covered the fear of what I was really trying to hide. Deep down, I knew I was in trouble and didn't know what to do or how to do it. If I want to get truly honest, I probably wasn't really ready to do much about it anyway. I may have been somewhat concerned, but I had much more drinking to do. More pain to experience. I am an alcoholic. Drinking is what we do.
My drinking was taking its toll on my health. There were many trips to the Dr.'s office seeking answers to what was wrong with me? Tremors, high blood pressure, stomach problems, bladder infections, vitamin deficiencies were a few of my physical ailments. Then there were the emotional ailments. These were the worst. Anxiety, fear, feelings of discontent, loss of self-esteem and confidence, anger, loss of ambition and compassion, depression. What was my purpose in life other than to drink and be miserable? I was drinking night into day, day into night. Hating every second of it. It was no longer pleasurable, but a necessity. It had been for a long time. If I were to stop, I would experience alcohol withdrawals. That is a reality that hits hard. No one wants to be an alcoholic. No one aspires to that. Looking into the mirror and facing the alcoholic looking back is an ugly and scary experience. I remember trembling and feeling in a state of panic. The reflection in the mirror mouthed the words, "Oh my God, I'm an alcoholic". The truth hurts. I was horrified by the notion and the realization . It was the first time I was willing to acknowledge the truth in its entirety. I had been pushing the truth aside for some time. It was indeed a fact. There was no denying it. The face staring back in the mirror confirmed the truth. What had I become and how had I allowed it to happen? It wasn't supposed to be this way.
I had a solution. I would go to the Doctor and confess my sins. Somewhat. I would never really reveal how out of control my drinking had become. I would hide the shame. I would merely tell him I drank to much and wanted to quit. He would then give me a miracle drug that makes it easy to quit. I'd swallow a pill and all cravings for alcohol would subside. Life would be good. That was my plan. I held onto that notion because I knew I couldn't quit on my own. I tried many times before and couldn't make it more than a few days. Try as I might, I would always sucumb to the powers of alcoholism. It called to me. My Doctor didn't seem shocked when I told him about my drinking problem. He didn't even bat an eye in shock or amazement. He only suggested I go to AA meetings. No way, I wasn't going to go there. I wanted no part of AA without even knowing anything about it or how it works. It wasn't for me. I had my own preconceived notions of the program. I knew I wouldn't like it.
The miracle pill fell through. My insurance company wouldn't cover its cost and I was devastated. I reeked of alcohol when the pharmacist told me the news. I saw the empathy or perhaps pity in his eyes. He patted me on the shoulder and told me that there was help out there. That wasn't what I wanted to hear. I walked away in dismay and went home to drink. After all, I had just gotten some disheartening news. I had been denied my solution to my drinking problem. So I dealt with it in my own way. I Drank more and continued to do so. Insanity.
I lay in a stupor for days only rallying long enough to drive to the store to buy more booze. I was pathetic. Anxiety would take over towards the end of my supply. I had to keep the continuous flow going or I'd be hurting. The thought of withdrawals scared me. The anxiety attacks were brutal. It took everything I had to plan my drinking and to follow through on my plan. The planning and drinking filled my entire day. At this point my family stepped in to try to help. They were petrified I was going to die from alcohol poisoning. I was beat. I was ready for help. I had been for sometime. I didn't know what to do. I only knew how to continue with my daily routine of drinking. I know it seems simple to pick up the phone and make a simple call, but I was pretty much incapable of simple tasks at that point. I was ready to admit defeat and accept that I had to go to AA meetings because I was a hopeless drunk who needed help and needed it right away or I may die. I felt like I was already dead inside. My soul had become overshadowed by booze. No light could enter in.
A phone call was made and I met and talked with a member from our local AA group. We discussed the organization and made arrangements for me to get to a meeting. I was given a Big Book. We talked for hours over breakfast. It was the first real meal I had had in along time. After eating, I grew antsy and had to leave. The calming effects of the bottle of wine I drank before our meeting was starting to ware off and the jitters were starting to set in. I needed more to drink. I made my excuse to leave and went to buy more booze. After all, I had made progress. I had made arrangements to go to a meeting. I was making progress in getting the help I needed. Time for another drink.
My first impression of my AA meeting wasn't a good one. I thought it was very strange indeed. Judging from my first AA meeting, there wasn't much I liked about it at all. It wasn't long until I drifted away from meetings and avoided everyone that was involved. I white knuckled it for about 30 days then relapsed. After I relapsed, I felt horribly guilty and felt as if I let everyone down. I had let everyone down, including myself. I was going to do things differently this time. I was going to actually get a sponsor and work the steps. I drove to a woman's meeting in our neighboring city 1 hour away. I confessed my relapse and asked a woman to sponsor me. She said she would be honored to. After that initial meeting, we didn't talk about sponsorship again. We would still see one another at meetings and exchange hellos, but the subject never came up. It was strange. She was waiting for me to bring it up and I for her. Neither one of us made any attempt. I still find it puzzIing why she didn't initiate the exchange of words. I know I was just as capable of the subject as she, but felt ackward and inexperienced in the situation. I lasted about 60 days after that. I then had the relapse that has changed my life to this day. I hope I never experience anything like that ever again. The results of that relapse has put the fear of drinking into me. Time has passed and the images have faded somewhat. Although not enough to put it behind me forever. I will draw upon the memories to help keep me sober today. My last drinking experience was a futile attempt at drinking like a normal person. It was a hard lesson learned from the crazy lull of alcohol.
It started innocent enough. I was stressed out by the stress de jour. I was going to have just a few glasses of wine. I deserved it after all. I had worked hard and a few glasses of wine would be a fine calming reward for my efforts. I was better aware this time around. I had better tools to cope with my drinking. I could handle it. I had certainly drank more in the past. I had the situation under control. So I thought. I didn't use any of my newfound tools at all. I uncorked the chosen bottle and had it gone in seconds flat. I swigged straight from the bottle forgoing the glass and didn't stop until every last drop was gone. I don't know why I didn't sip it like a normal person would. I contribute my actions to my obsession. Afterwards, I walked over to my neighbors. They were having a BBQ. I tried to hide my guilt and my drunkeness. My best friend was at that party. I chit chatted and made small talk the whole time knowing I had just unleased a monster and was trying to cover it up. I felt as if I had betrayed everyone. I was living a lie again and had just broken a commitment I had made to myself and others. Within a few minutes, the guilt didn't matter anymore. Easily forgotten. What really mattered was drinking more. Off I went to the store to buy more. A bigger bottle this go around. Incidently, no messing around with corkscrews from that point on. It only slows you down. I moved straight to the twist off caps. Nothing but the finest for this alkie.
Nine days later, I was physically beaten by my obsession. As hard as I tried, I was no match for its prowess. It had kicked my ass and kicked it hard. I put up a good fight though, but once again, I was defeated by its strength. I threw in the towel and finally made that call for help. Better late than never. I had to ask for help. That I knew. I knew I was in deep trouble and I would never stop if someone didn't intervene. I would continue on until something terrible would happen. I don't remember much of anything about those nine days or few days that followed after. It probably is a blessing that I don't. What little I do remember, I'm trying to forget. When I was finally able to function and acknowledge my surroundings, I was greeted by about 25 or more empty wine bottles, the large ones, and one empty bottle of vodka. Ugh...not my favorite poison, but somehow I justified that bottle into my binge. I think it about killed me. It was cheap vodka and I swigged it straight from a shot glass. I never swigged vodka form a shot glass before, but this time around it seemed like a good idea. More insanity.
During that binge, I wanted a drink and that I did. I drank until I had had enough. I think we have to do that to ourselves before we can truly understand how much we need sobriety. You really have to want it. We have to beat ourselves up enough until we are finally ready to surrender. I surrendered to the fact that I am powerless over alcohol. I have proven that over and over again. I no longer crave alcohol or want it to be a part of my life. I prefer life sober. The thought of drinking makes me shudder with disgust. Mainly from what it represents to me. To me it represents nothing but pain and misery, certain defeat. To drink will only bring me pain. Alcohol is never a solution to any problem. It is only a contributing ill factor. It has taken me many years to finally come to that conclusion. I no longer wish to argue that fact. It is pointless in doing so. It is what it is. I can live with that. I have to. I really have no choice in that matter. My disease is a part of who I am and I can re-build my life around it.
There is a solution. Many people before me have changed there lives and I can learn from them. Others can learn from me. Together we can share our victories, our defeats and go on to live fulfilling lives. Something I hadn't been able to accomplish for a very long time. My life was nothing more than a miserable existence. All joy had been sucked from my world. I had banished myself to a self imposed misery created by my own alcohol consumption. It's that simple. No more pointing of fingers. I am responisble for my own actions. Time to rid myself from the darkness and negativity. Life doesn't have to be that way. We have choices. We need to make choices to fit our needs. For me, that is going to AA. If that didn't work, it would be my responsibilty to find a solution that did.
I continue to go to AA and work the program. I'm not always thrilled with the program or the people. There I said it. I don't think there is any perfect program. Bottom line, AA has saved my life. I will learn to tolerate the negative aspects I've crossed in the program. I will do whatever it takes to stay sober. Any differences I have with the program are my own problem, no one elses. I need to adjust accordingly. I am responsible for my own outcome. It will be an ever changing process. As time goes by, I get a better understanding of the program and its process. It is quite clear to me that it works if you work it. Thank goodness there is a solution for people like me, the hopeless alcoholic.
In the beginning of the program, I was inpatient and wanted instant results. Within time, I've come to understand that we need time to heal spiritually, physically and emotionally. The emotioanl roller coaster was a difficult adjustment to get through, but it does pass and get easier. Learning to feel again without stuffing my feelings was also a real eye opener, but I lived though that as well becoming all the more stronger in doing so. We all grow stronger if we give it the proper chance.
My life has changed tremendously since the day I drank my last drink. Of course, I'm much happier for obvious reasons. No big suprise. You eliminate the problem, things are bound to get better. I'm able to appreciate the little things in life. Things that had no importance before bring me new meaning and joy. I never wanted to take the time or make the efforts to enjoy little things such as a sunrise or the birds singing to welcome the start of a new day. Infact, I dreaded the start of a new day. If you allow it to, alcohol overlooks any joy and casts a dark shadow on our souls. Thank God, I finally got it. Drinking has sucked the joy from my life for the last time. I am taking back control by not allowing it to consume me.
My HP continues to work in my life. Six months ago, the phone rang and I was asked to come to work at the job I'm working now. It came to me after a long drawn out search for employment. The strange thing is, as the phone was ringing, I instantly knew why it was ringing and what the call was about. I knew that everything was going to be alright. My job search had come to an end and I could breathe a big sigh of relief. Finding viable employment was my biggest hurdle to cross in reentering sober society. I've come along way in the last year. Everything I had hoped for and more is coming true. Not always easy by any means, but much better than they have been in a long time and much easier than my drinking days. Drinking was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. It is a tough regimen to uphold.
The promises are true. I can finally say that. What a relief. I have a job I enjoy, I'm working on a solution to my financial problems. There is light at the end of the tunnel on the financial horizon. I feel much more at ease and can handle stressful situations better than before. I know a sense of calmness and serenity. I no longer find myself wrapped up in drama and negativity. I'm able to think things through with a reasonable outcome. My anxiety has all but disappeared and I'm able to face my fears head on. I've found my self-esteem and my self-confidence once again. In doing so, I've found myself. Someone who was lost for a very long time. I've been getting reaquainted with myself for the last year. I'm not as bad as I had made myself out to be. I can live with myself these days. I can sleep well at night and wake up to the challenges and promises of a new day, not the feelings of dread and remorse. Life is good again. Things seem to work out in a favorable way almost in an eerie sense. Just when I least expect it, something exciting pops into my life out of leftfield.
The end of my drinking days were ugly and undignified. It is nice to be able to share my joys and difficulties with others who can be supporting and understanding and not judge me for my past. Things seem to fall into place when you are ready to handle them. I'm at a good place in my life. Probably the most grounded I've ever been. I think I'll be okay as long as I continue to work on myself and my recovery. Complacency is my worst enemy now.
With the help from my HP, I can get through any given situation sober. I've come to depend on my faith. I am weak without it. I stick with my own kind. I share with people who can relate and understand my ways for they have walked a mile in my shoes. My life depends on my sobriety. I don't know what tomorrow may bring, but with each new passing day, I need to work on staying sober. Sobriety is truly a gift. Life is full of surprises and tomorrow remains a mystery. With sobriety, I have a better chance of surviving the mysteries. If you are reading this and think you are a hopeless drunk and can't get sober, I'm here to tell you that you can. I have had 365 daily reprieves. The fact that I have been able to abstain from drinking for any given amount of time still amazes me. My life revolved and depended on that next drink. Now, the thought of drinking just seems like a really bad idea, unappealing and without promise. Drinking isn't a solution, living through another day sober is.
Thank God for change and the willingness to do so. As I sat in my Homegroup meeting the other night, I heard a sound that made my skin crawl. It brought me back to a horrible and hopeless time in my life. The sound is meant to be joyous and represent good times. Not for me. It may sound silly, but I have a terrible association with drinking when hearing the sound of an ice cream truck. It was making the rounds in the neighborhood where we hold our AA meetings. The owners of the truck are neighbors of mine. When they first got the truck, I would be lying in a drunken stupor and be awaken from the chimes of its musical approach. I would gain enough awarness to be reminded of my terrible drinking cycle and feeling the pain from its results. While most people were out enjoying and living life, I was hiding in a back bedroom trying to escape and dull my pain. I hated that sound for reminding me of how bad my life had become and how out of control I really was. I had given up on living and resorted to just existing. That haunting sound was a reminder that nothing had changed even though I really hated what I was doing to myself. At the meeting, I associated that sound to something bad, but in truth, I couldn't have been in a safer place at the time. Sitting around the tables listening and sharing is keeping me strong and establishing firm ground for me to stand on. I plan to remain standing on firm ground. I have changed my life and I'm finally happy. Why would I risk losing that? Drinking isn't worth it. Thank God for change, hope, faith, determination and the drive for a better way of life. My name is LeAnne and I am a grateful alcoholic. This is my recovery story. Even though you have come to the end of my story, for me, it is just the beginning.
LeAnne
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