The Many Day Ones that lead to my last

People’s sobriety stories always fascinate me. I loved to hear the successes, but related so much to the failures. I found connection in these stories. I heard me in them, I saw myself in them and pulled strenth from them. They are so personal, yet there are always so many similarities that run through them. The question that I get asked the most is How did you get sober. Followed by, what did you do, and how did you make it stick? 

My sober story doesn’t start here, and it surely doesn’t end here either (those are entirely different post), but these were the times that I was at my worst. When I no longer knew how to function with or without alcohol. When my addiction had taken over and when I was actively trying how to get out of the Hell that I had created for myself. These are not the day to day struggles I went through, but the birds eye view of the big things that fueled the fire and lead me to my last day one…

Covid Lockdown

I was stressed, my husband was laid off, we became teachers overnight, were in lock down and I drank A LOT.  I had to go into the office every once in a while, so I was still able to sneak copious amounts of alcohol into my car and house.  My 5-year-old was the first one to call me out on my drinking.  She asked my mom why I talked funny at night?  This is when I tried to start moderating a little more and watching my drinking around others because they became more acutely aware of my glassy eyes, me slurring my words, or being a little loopy.  This is also when I started hiding my drinking, so people know how much I was actually consuming.

I pretended I could moderate for a while and blamed my drinking on COVID.  There were many times I blacked out and got called out throughout that year though. 

February 2021

I was taken to the emergency room because my husband couldn’t wake me up.  I was released from the hospital after they had recorded my BAC at .34.  I walked away with a pamphlet on Alcohol Use Disorder and an option to try to get evaluated at a clinic that diagnosed alcohol use disorder.  My drinking had obviously become a problem at this point.  But when I woke up the next morning all I wanted to do was drink away the problems I had created for myself.  My mom drove me to the clinic the next morning.  Walking into that office was one of the most humbling things I have ever had to do.  Another one was peeing in a cup.  Many people that were there were court ordered to be there.  There was no warm welcome.  No good job, no I’m glad you’re here.  It was me in a stale room with doctors asking me all sorts of questions.  Analyzing my drinking habits and (SHOCKER) diagnosing me with Alcohol Use Disorder.  I walked away from there with a prescription for Naltrexone and a weekly counseling appointment.  I felt defeated when I walked out of that office.  I was nowhere near ready to be done drinking though.  I was more mad at myself for drinking too much that time and getting caught and I told myself that if I could just do a better job of hiding it that I would be okay.  I told myself that I would take a month or so off of drinking to get my family off my back and then I could REALLY work on moderating this time.

I hated the counselor that I was assigned to when I was there.  In theory, I should have gone and found another one, but I didn’t.  I just kept going to my sessions and telling her lies about how I was doing.  I knew what she wanted to hear, and I said it.  I felt like I got nothing new out of the counseling sessions and they weren’t cheap, so eventually, I canceled one of my weekly appointments and never rescheduled.

After that, my drinking picked up steam again.  It was like I hadn’t missed a beat.  I was right back to hiding bottles, slurring my words and getting caught.  Except it was worse than before.  I was getting caught more often, I could not be trusted, and I was a shell of a person.  This takes us to the last day I took a drink.

September 25, 2022