As I started to write this, nearing my 1 year anniversary of sobriety, I wasn't really sure what I wanted to
share with you.
I just knew it was time to come clean. God keeps telling me to begin to tell my story. And it
would be really long if I were to go through my entire drinking history,
especially since I started at 18.
It’s still going to be long.
This is just one tiny part of the story of
where I was a year ago, August 6th, 2015.
I guess what I want you to know as you read this, is that
I AM WHAT AN ALCOHOLIC LOOKS LIKE.
We are all around you. And we don’t fit any one mold.
I'm the one in the middle... my amazing supportive family are surrounding me.
Before I got sober, I had a very different picture in my mind of what
an alcoholic was. I pictured
someone who was grubby, unshaven, really rough around the edges and perhaps
lived under a bridge. Smoked a
lot. Had a lot of tattoos. Ripped jeans, torn clothes. You get the picture. The women I pictured had really
bad hair (bad dye jobs, lots of peroxide), major bags under their eyes, and
kind of looked ridden hard and hung up wet. And they wore stained tank tops and smoked and drank stale
beer or whiskey in a dimly lit bar.
God I feel awful putting that on paper, but it’s true.
I certainly didn’t picture myself as an alcoholic. I mean, come on… I’m an upper middle
class, 43 year old woman who went to boarding school. I have a college degree, a master’s
degree, two kids, a wonderful husband, a great job and career, no debt and a
house with picket fence (albeit not white). Only thing missing from that picture is a dog. I don’t have many problems in my life
at all. In fact, I am incredibly
blessed. But my drinking was
quickly becoming a real problem for my life. What I thought was normal drinking, I would soon find out was NOT
NORMAL AT ALL.
My normal? My normal had become 1 to 2 bottles of wine a night. Every
night. Drinking while doing house
chores? Yup. And for a while, we had someone clean
for us – it was easier to drink that way. Less to do = more time to drink.
Any excuse for a cocktail… at any time of the day? Mimosas on a Saturday morning anyone? Neighbors are in the cul-de-sac? The Eagles lost?
The Eagles won? I could find
a reason to drink. I started to buy the
mini-4 packs because I could hide and sneak them more easily. I would plan my strategy at
non-drinking events around when I could figure out how to get a drink. Thinking about when I could get my
glass(es) of wine from the minute I woke up until I that said-glass in my hand? Yup. Getting really furious inside if
unexpected company would show up because I had to share my wine? Yes. There were many nights I swore the next morning that I’d
stop drinking. But that would
change by 5pm. “I’ll start next
week…” or “I’ll cut back”… were regular mantras. After drinking too much, I would
pray as I laid down at night, “God, if you take away my spins / make me throw up / don’t let me throw up
/ get me sober (you get the picture)… I promise I’ll stop”. I prayed that prayer many more nights
that I cared to admit. Yeah… that
was me. God had an answer for me but I didn't have ears to hear him at that point in my life.
Thankfully when I did hit my bottom, it wasn’t a very hard
one compared to some others I've had the privilege of meeting. I
praise God every day that I was able to get the help I needed when I did, and
before any “yet's” happened that I would have regretted even more… "Yet's?"!?!?! Here is what I mean.
- I hadn’t gotten a DUI – yet.
- I hadn’t made too much of a fool of myself from getting too
drunk – yet
- I hadn’t lost major relationships in my life because of my drinking
– yet.
- I hadn’t lost a job because of my drinking – yet.
- I hadn’t hurt my children due to my drinking – yet.
- I hadn't ruined my marriage - yet.
You begin to get the "yet" picture...
(I might choose to switch those words instead, to "Honor the space between my not yet's and my no longer")
And let me tell you honestly – I should have had any/all of
those "yet's" happen. I drove after I drank. I got
pretty drunk at various functions.
I wasn’t the nicest verbally to my kids or my husband. I said things I regretted (when I remembered them). There
were days I went to work pretty darn hung over. I'm not proud to admit any of this, and it is by God’s grace and my guardian angels that I
avoided anything terrible happening.
The first day I was in rehab, I very quickly realized I was “one
of them”.
The picture in my head of
what an alcoholic “looked like” that I illustrated above? Well, it quickly started to wash away
as I heard other addicts and alcoholics share their stories.
Ashamedly, as I listened to the rest of
the folks around me, I realized that their stories were my stories.
I was one of them.
It didn’t matter that they were
recovering from other drugs.
That snotty, uneducated picture in my
head?
Welcome to reality
Sarah.
Welcome to the club. I was angry and sad, confused and bewildered. And I didn't belong there, did I? Nothing bad had happened.
Yet.
And now?
I
couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else. While being at this point in my life was never on
my life's bucket list, and I certainly don’t wish to have this dubious title,
I am so glad that I’ve found this tribe and community of other recovering
alcoholics and addicts who understand me and really get what I am feeling and
where I am coming from. I've found them in anonymous meetings. I've found them in Rehab. I work with them, I pray with them... they are on Facebook. They understand my anger.
They understand my grief.
They understand how funny some of the memories of drinking
are (that really shouldn’t be funny).
They get it.
THEY GET IT.
And more importantly? The ones who have long term sobriety? THEY HAVE WHAT I WANT. A peace and understanding that I hope to be blessed enough to get to some day. Money doesn't buy that. Staying sober one day at a time does though.
I could go on and on about my journey.
In fact, I started to write out my
first few weeks, but I’ll save that for another time and another post. If you want to know about
it in more detail, call me. I'm happy to share.
What I remember about
a year ago though, is how scared, lonely, sad, angry, confused and overwhelmed
I was. Now?
I still have those
feelings but they are a lot fewer.
Thanks to rehab and meetings, I’m learning who sober Sarah is … and so far I like
her a lot more than I used to like myself.
I can’t thank my family,
friends and co-workers enough for loving and supporting me through this.
Especially my family. The unconditional love and support of everyone as blown me
away.
And I’ve beat myself up
enough for the mistakes I made.
Regret only accomplishes so much. I
am choosing to celebrate making the right (but not easy) choice for where I was in my life 1 year ago. I'm choosing to accept some grace now, because so many people have already offered it to me.
What I want you to know is that addiction is very, very
real. You know us, whether you
think you do or not. You might be
one. You might be married to
one. You might have one as a child
or parent, brother or sister. You might live next
door to one. I might be your
Pastor, your child’s teacher, Boy/Girl Scout Leader, Sunday School teacher or Mailman. Maybe your Doctor or Lawyer or your Assistant Director
of Human Resources. We might hide our illness really well. We might not. We do not
choose this. Believe it or not, we can't "just stop" drinking. We've tried. We don't want to be like this.
Alcoholism is a disease. A cunning, baffling, terrible disease
that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
And while I hope you don’t ever have to join my tribe, please know that if you do? I’ll be there
with open arms and no judgement to welcome you.
“My
name is Sarah and I’m an alcoholic. Welcome. I'm glad you're here."
SaveSave
