My Story, partially.
Post first published March 18, 2013
My story is a work in progress. I was told today that I am getting sober for the wrong reasons. This caused me to look inward to see what my motives were. And after doing that, going to a meeting, I realized that I whole heartedly disagree with this person.
I am in recovery because I don’t like myself when I’m all f*cked up on pills or booze. I am in recovery because I WANT to be different. To me that’s the most important thing, that I want to change.
I started drinking when I was 16 because I found out that it numbed the pain. It numbed the pain of knowing that my father left me when I was one year old. It numbed the pain of my mother taking me away from my grandparents, the only security I had known since my father had left. It numbed the pain of having a mother show back up in my life, when I didn’t know who she was. It numbed the pain of living with her and her new husband, in a household with such different rules and ways, that I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. It numbed the pain of being told that I was a spoiled rotten brat and that I should be ashamed of myself for loving my grandparents. It numbed the pain of moving away when I was 14, to Kansas, away from my grandparents, the only parents I had ever bonded with. Drinking killed all that pain, and allowed me to not hurt all the time. It allowed me to come out of my walls I had built up as a defense mechanism. It numbed the pain when my grandfather died, a pain that to this day is just as real, and hurts just as much, as it did in 1995, when he died. Drinking numbed the pain from everything…Because of whatever reason, I found that booze made life bearable.
So I floated on, went through marriages, had two of the most awesome kids in the world, and continued to drink, every time I got hurt. It seemed like when I would trust, it would hurt, and so I drank. Then in 2007, I had a stalker with a subsequent home invasion, and wow, now I could REALLY drink to forget. Following that joyful occurence, came a DUI…nope, you guessed it. I kept on. Going to jail was nothing, it was just another piece of pain for me to drown with more booze.
Then in 2011 I had a really cool doctor prescribe me hydrocodone for my joint pain…how cool is that! I had an unlimited supply of pills and booze. I could really get the numbing going on now.
I drove by an addiction treatment center everyday on the way to work. Because I am in the medical field, I subconsciously knew that I was in trouble when it dawned on me that I couldn’t go a minute with out my pills. So, what did I do..nothing. Until 7 January 2012 at 1730. That day I decided I was going to go out and work on some horses that I was training. I had finally gotten a day off, and it was nice out, so why not. I had my bottle of pills, and stopped by the liquor store on the way to the barn. Worked the horses all day, got the sh*t kicked out of me, and decided to call it quits and go home. Luckily, I made it home. But not until after this….
After drinking an entire bottle of 100 proof liquor, and popping a zillion pills, I decided to drive, and this is what happened. I do not remember how it happened, just that it did, and that I woke up pinned in my car. I guessed how it happened…by the process of elimination, but the truth is I was so f*cked up, that I nearly killed myself. I’m glad it was only trees I hit, and not another human being.
Do you think that stopped me? No. It took almost six more weeks for me to check myself into treatment. I finally realized that I was headed to jail, or a dirt nap.
Went to treatment, which was one of the most awesome experiences of my life, and got out. Only to come home to an outreached hand with pills and booze in it. So, what did I do. Take them, of course. The tirade of verbal bashing I got because of going to treatment was just enough for me to CHOOSE to relapse almost immediately to kill that pain as well. Notice I said choose. It was my choice.
I subsequently left that relationship because it was doing me no good. Moved home, and started to settle down. Then I lost my job, my apartment, and popped a bunch more pills and ended up in the hospital drinking some charcoal cr*p that made me puke. Then I passed out during a blood gas test, which supposedly hurts, but I had no clue. Where in the f*ck was my booze when I needed it. It just went with the pills.
Moved to an apartment for a month, then moved back to “home”. At this point I was not taking any more pills. December 2012 was the last time I took any prescription pain pills, psychotropic pills, or sleeping pills. I found a little house, and with my tax return and unemployment, moved in.
Did I stop drinking, no. I drank one last time. The next day I went to a meeting, hungover. (I had started seeing a great man, who is also in recovery. Someone who I was sure would understand where I came from, and I finally started to go to meetings, and found that I enjoyed them.) Then I started doing some self bashing. What in the hell was I doing. I knew deep inside that I was STILL trying to numb those pains. It was time to stop. And I’ve been doing good…but you know what I’ve noticed…is that all those feelings that I’ve been numbing for so long, are REALLY fresh at this point. I know my skin will get thicker with time. But right now, WOW…it’s all coming back like a freakin banshee…42 years of pain. That’s a lot for me to handle.
This morning, as I said, I was told I was staying sober for the wrong reasons. I disagree…I’m staying sober for me, because I WANT to be sober, deal with all the pain, accept it and let it go. All my pain that I have shoved away, and numbed with drugs, are going to be let go. But I have to feel them first…and wow, that’s a big one.
Now is when I really am searching for that support through others that have been where I have been. I understand the process logically, but emotionally it’s going to be work. This I know. I just hope that those that I love, and those that love me, will at least understand that this is my battle, and I will win it. And Lord please be patient with me…I am only human.
Here’s a Story 