johnwroweiv

October 1, 2014 proved to be a BIG day for me.

I wasn't expecting for what happened to happen. I didn't feel it coming, and when it happened my life forever changed for the better. I am eternally grateful.

The morning of October 1, 2014 started no differently than any other morning during the previous 9 months: I awoke in my studio apartment, alone and sweating. I was awakened by nightmares, an urgent need to vomit or both. I can't really remember. I opened my eyes, put my feet on the floor, and once I felt as though I could stand without falling over or dry-heaving, I headed to the freezer. The distance from my bed to the kitchenette is only about 8 feet. It felt like miles.

In my head I was screaming, "Don't drink today, John. You PROMISED YOURSELF you would not drink today." I heard my voice, but my body was not listening. There was a much more powerful voice that seemed to have taken over my body. My addiction was in control. Nothing was going to get between me and the booze. I had lost my ability to stop drinking.

Despite the warning bells clanging in my head to stop and go back to bed - I kept walking. I walked up to the freezer, opened it, grabbed the frosty, cold blue bottle of Skyy vodka and choked down several large gulps. I lunged for the sink - praying that the booze would stay in my stomach long enough to quiet the feeling of terror that was now building up inside me.

I kept it down. "Thank God" I thought to myself.

And as I felt pain shoot from my esophagus, through my bloody and empty stomach back to my terror filled brain I started to cry. The cycle of the day had started again. There was no turning back. It was going to be another terribly normal day.

But as it turned out, October 1, 2014 was not going to be another normal day. Not by a long shot.

As I grabbed the bottle and walked towards the window of my apartment - something happened. A very far removed and unfamiliar feeling suddenly pulsed through my body. It was hope. A glimmer of hope cut through the terror and fear that had become my constant companions. A voice inside my head said, "Get help, John. You can do this. You NEED this." And I listened.

I acted without thinking. My body responded to the voice to get help Just like it did to the demands to get booze. Only this wasn't booze. I was terrified. Trembling. And excited. Soon I was on hold with Blue Shield of California waiting to speak with a representative. My addiction was SCREAMING to abandon ship. It wanted me to put down the phone.

I didn’t. I was on a mission.

I cried tears of relief as I sucked down vodka and spoke to the representative. I was asking for help. I was admitting to another human being that I was an alcoholic. That I couldn’t quit drinking. That I wanted to stop and I simply couldn’t.

I was practically begging. I wanted to be locked up. To be someplace where I couldn’t get booze. I KNEW that if I was on my own I would keep drinking. I needed a moment to breath. I needed a moment without alcohol. I needed to finish the bottle that was in my hand and then walk into a room and have someone shut the door and turn a lock.

I was powerless over alcohol. My life was a disaster.

I had no idea that I had just completed the first step of AA with a kind and caring (and anonymous) human being from the Blue Shield customer care center.

I also didn't know that in my deepest moment of defeat – I had taken the first powerful step towards healing.