Recovery 365 - August 4 - The Biggest Competition...

THE BIGGEST COMPETITION OF MY LIFE

How did I wind up here? How in the hell does an athletic woman who was brought up in a perfectly loving family of moderate to upper-income status and who has a very public, successful career end up an alcoholic?
Hi. My name is Jill, and I’m an alcoholic. The first time I said those words 6 months ago, I was petrified. I was certain by speaking those words out loud, I would lose all my friends, all my family, my husband -- the whole shooting match. Alcoholism is for losers, right? Only low-lifes and scum “allow” themselves to become alcoholics.
My God, what I have learned in these 7 months to prove all of the above statements to be absolutely and utterly false.
How did this all start? I’m not quite sure. I did all the normal experimental drinking in high school on special occasions like the prom, graduation, etc. When I got out of high school, the drinking intensified as I turned legal drinking age. It’s what all my friends were doing, and I didn’t want to be left out of all the fun. Girl’s just want to have fun, right? I was all about having fun.
I guess nearly every sporting event I participated in after high school involved alcohol. Beer at the softball game, beer at the outdoor sand volleyball court, alcohol available at the baseball, football and basketball games I loved to attend. As I think about it, not many aspects of my life involved non-drinking activities. I love to camp, which also always involves sitting around the fire and – you guessed it – drinking. Let’s go skiing and then have a few drinks afterwards. Let’s go diving in some tropical climate and drink fruity rum drinks.
When I was 38, I got married and soon after moved west to California with my husband where we had no family or friends. But what the heck! We are adventurous and love skiing and the mountains and camping and hiking and the ocean. It was a perfect place for us – so we thought. Then I discovered wine country and grew a deep love and affection for wine.
About 18 months ago, I began to have the feeling something was wrong with me and my drinking. I wasn’t very much “fun” anymore, I was incredibly moody, and I was constantly walking around in a fog. I had helped myself become emotionally numb so that I wouldn’t miss the company of my family and my friends I had left behind.
My normal routine had become coming home, opening a bottle of wine, and pouring glass after glass until my husband got home. Well, he never gets home from work until about 7:30 or 8 p.m., so a lot of drinking can be accomplished in those 2 or 2.5 hours. He’d get home, I’d be moody or half in the bag, eat a little dinner and then pass out on the couch. That has been my life pretty much for the last year. What fun, huh?
My total wake-up call which happened two weeks ago was about as ugly as I can imagine. I don’t remember much, but I will share with you what I do remember. My husband was out of town for the week, and it was Memorial Day weekend. I took a nice long run that Saturday morning with the dog, and then came back and entertained the neighbor kids at the pool, where I decided to have a couple of beers. When I went back home a couple hours later, I decided to crack open a bottle of wine and watch a movie. I don’t remember the end of that movie. I also don’t remember anything else that happened until I “came to” about 2:30 a.m. on the couch with a bottle in my hand that had spilled all over me and the couch. Not only that, but the right side of my head was killing me. Not a hangover kind of pain, but physical pain. I went to the mirror to discover that I had a huge lump on my forehead and a black eye.
This is what I have pieced together of what happened that night. At some point in the evening, I went outside with the dog and started yelling at some woman who was mad at me for having the dog off-leash. During the fiasco, my little neighbor friend, Tina (who is 13 years old)heard me yelling and came out and saw all this and I guess had to help me back in the house. Not, however, before I fell flat on my face and nearly killed myself from the impact. At some point, I must have been in the hot tub, because I left the cover open. How I didn’t drown, I have no idea.
The next morning, I was horrified. I couldn’t piece anything together, and when Tina was talking to me about the previous nights events, I wanted to cry right there in front of her. I tried to take a nap, but the horror and fear of what had happened the night before gripped me so badly I could not rest. I had to stop drinking. I didn’t really care that I had nearly killed myself, I cared that I had made a total ass of myself in front of a young girl who idolizes me. My heart was broken and I had to admit my problem. Without my husband there, I promptly walked over to Tina’s Mom, Robin, who is a dear friend of mine, and admitted through my tears that I was an alcoholic.
To my shock, she hugged and told me she loved me and would help me in any way she could to help me get better.
The next hurdle was telling my husband. I picked him up at midnight at the airport that same Monday night, and though it was late and the timing less than perfect, I had to get it off my chest then and there, and I did. I told the one person I love most that I was an alcoholic. He held my hand, and told me he loved me and that he was proud of me for coming to this realization. He would be by my side every step of the way.
The next major hurdle was going to my first AA meeting. Oh my God, I had to sit in a room full of drunks and losers and admit I was just like them. I think that day I had talked myself in and out of going to that first meeting 50 or more times. Even 15 minutes before the meeting was to begin, I was calling one of my friends so that she would talk me into going. I finally just jumped in the car and plowed ahead. When I arrived, there were several questionable looking men standing outside of the door. One guy said to me, “Are you looking for a bunch of drunks?” I smiled and said yes. From that moment on, I was o.k. The group setting was a bit scary and there were a lot of AA rituals I was unfamiliar with, but the speaker that night was awesome. The speaker, Ron, talked about his long battle with alcoholism, and how he struggled and struggled for his sobriety. Today, he has been sober 28 years! He talked about his drinking, and how it totally ruined his career, but that he drank so that he would “feel comfortable in his own skin.” Oh, how I could totally relate to that statement.
While I didn’t lose my job, I didn’t lose my husband, I didn’t kill someone in a car accident, I didn’t have to take a drink in every morning to get through the day, I still truly believe all of that would have happened if I continued to drink. Blackouts had become all too common of an occurrence when I drank, and the thought that I could have gotten in my car and killed someone frightens the hell out of me. I could never live with myself if I harmed another person.
I have just begun my road to sobriety, but I am happy. I’m not saying it is easy, but I love what I am learning to become – a person who can look in the mirror and love myself for having the guts to face my problem head on.
I would be remiss to say I will be able to do this on my own. It is the love of God, the AA program, and my family and friends that have guided me and supported me thus far, and will guide me until the day I die. Today it is my greatest hope that one day I will be able to help someone else fight their way back to a sober life full of love, laughter and happiness.