Friday, March 5, 2010

The Path

**Submitted by Anonymous

So, who am I? I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, and a friend. I am educated and professional. I live in the suburbs in a nice house, even have the picket fence. But I am also lonely, isolated and desperate. I sometimes can’t stand being in my own skin. I despise myself most days. I want to scream and I want to cry.

Five days ago, I finally admitted I was an alcoholic.

I don’t really get it yet. All I get is the anger so far. Anger for letting it get to this point. Anger for letting this “thing” screw up my marriage. Anger for not being able to have a drink. Ever. Again. And this surrendering thing, who or what am I supposed to be surrendering to anyway?

It is hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel right now. All I feel is pain and sadness. I feel lost in a way too. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to fill the time. I know that it will get better, or at least I have to believe that right now. It can’t get any worse. If it does I will be dead or even more alone without a family.

I am scared but hopeful. I want to be happy again. I want to enjoy every minute with my beautiful children. I want to laugh with my husband again. I want to giggle with my kids and dance with them and be there with them. All the time.

I want my life back.

I am starting on a difficult path. I am giving up something that has always been so comforting to me. My escape, my refuge, my “ahhhh” at the end of the day (or the middle of the day).

My tears are hitting the keyboard right now. I want to beat this thing. But I am scared, so scared. I don’t want to lose my family.

I don’t want to lose myself anymore.

So, who am I?

I am you and you are me.


  1. I am you, and you are me. I have been there, where you are. I didn't possess half the bravery and eloquence you have. You are so brave. Thank you for your honesty.

    And from one who has been there? It does get better.

    It does.

  2. You can do this.
    It gets better. I promise you that. The first few weeks are so hard. I'm not even two months in... but it's better now than at 5 days. 5 days sucked - I'm not going to lie to you.
    You can find yourself. It takes time, this thing has had a hold over you, so much so that it's hard to recognize yourself without it. It doesn't want you to. But you will.
    And life is good.
    Thinking of you, sending up a prayer.

  3. And you are brave. I felt the exact same way, word for word. All I can say, is what everyone is going to does get better. Even when it is so shitty you question why you decided to do this, just know you are better off than you were before.

    Sigh. I'm thinking of you. Sending thoughts of love and strength.

  4. I was just like you - I bet we allll were - I wanted to better NOW, I wanted to have it all figured out NOW - what the heck and how the heck do I turn "it" over - do I just sit back on the couch and wait for God to tell me weather I go to work or not - because I dont really want to go??? What the heck are they talking about???? Well, IN TIME - you will know and you will know how - but it is a constant work in progress - my sponsor told me all the time - repeatedly, so much so..... that I wanted to jump through the phone - "IT TAKES TIME - IT TAKES TIME" - If I heard it one more time I thought I'd scream - actually - I did scream. But guess what???? Yes, of course, she was right. Although you feel so unsettled, confused - and would lOVE to quell it all with a drink - YOU ARE EXACTLY WHERE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE. I was the same way - and that is what people told me and again .... guess what - they were right. If I was like that they said they would be concerned. There were the "gung ho" newbies - over the top about all this - well, there not here anymore.... You are exactly where you're supposed to be. And although it doesnt feel good and there are lots of peaks and valleys - its a roller coaster ride that first year - and the gripping fear and confusion of the first few - more than few weeks - the fog is clearing day by day by you not picking up a drink - like a veil being ever so slightly lifted each day -and little bits of you peaking out here and there - and believe it or not - you will start to like yourself - even just a little bit - and then you'll hate yourself again - but then the next time - you;ll like yourself even just a little bit more - you have arrived at the mountain of Serenity but you are staring at the tippity glorious top - stare straight ahead at the bottom where you are - much too overwhelming to stare at the summit - but the glory is that you have arrived at the mountain - but staring straight ahead is the part about ONE DAY AT A TIME. There is where you are today. And...... most all - it does get better. You will have beautiful "living in the moments" with your family - and it will be an indescribable - its not fireworks because you might just be sitting on the front steps with them - listening to crickets and chickadees but your heart swells and your floating. In those moments in themselves are often what compelled me to "keep coming" - the intrigue - of whats in store for me tomorrow and I want more of those fluttery moments.... and the farther along in recovery I go - the I have of those - and Im still getting to know myself and I was pleasantly surprised Im not so bad - and I bet you're not either - God Bless ~Faye

  5. Well, sorry about the grossly incorrect spelling, typo's and poor grammar - but hopefully I conveyed something...... next time I'll be sure to hit preview before I post!~Faye

  6. The surrendering, for me, meant I wasn't gonna fight for my true love alcohol anymore. I just let her go. I quit. I put down all my weapons I had no idea I was carrying, and I practically floated off the ground from the weight of it. You don't have to understand or believe or embrace anything yet. All you have to do is not drink today. That's it. Be gentle with yourself.

  7. You can do this. Just take it day by day. Hour by hour or minute by minute if you have to. Don't beat yourself up, the thing you need to focus on is not why, its just not taking a drink. The rest will come.

    ((Hugs))) you are so strong and brave and you can kick this.

  8. Ugh! That damn question. Who am I? I was asked that over and over in treatment. I thought I gave great answers. I'm a wife. A mother. A teacher. They kept shaking their head no. Seriously? Who are these people? Didn't my husband research this treatment program AT ALL before he abandoned me here? Slowly, I started to find the answers. I am a sober woman who loves to lose herself in a book. Who likes to lie on the couch and watch tv much more than she would like to admit and waaay more than she ever gets to. Who likes to keep a bag of chocolate chips in the refrigerator (they are so much better cold) and eat a few handfuls at night. Who finds museums boring and is finally ok with that. What I finally figured out is that my definition of myself could not include anyone else because when and if they were ever gone, my husband, my kids, my students, where would "I" be? Today I would be lying on the couch with a book in my hand, watching tv, and eating chocolate chips. Not in a museum. I was right where you were. You can do this!

  9. You are doing so well! Hang in there.

    Be honest and be well.


  10. I am you. I'm angry too. But very much like you I just want things to be better and the only way things will get better is if we don't drink today. Just think about today. Every hour without a drink is an hour closer to what you're reaching for. And that's as fast as it needs to go to work.

  11. I just recently took my 9 month say that it gets better is an understatement! Life becomes more clear, more joyful, more meaningful. I was one of those hard liquor alcoholics...from morning until night and even waking up during the night. I almost died, I should have died. All of the promises that are spoken of in sobriety do come true. Have patience, be true to yourself, and remember your are worth it! Those days of dreaming and romancing the drink will become less frequent, and severe. Keep the faith...