By Stephanie S.
I was not a “one hit wonder”, the term used for those who stop drinking after their first AA meeting. My road to recovery was more aptly summed up by the expression, “If at first you don’t succeed, try try again”.
My drinking became problematic only in my late 40’s. Up until then, I loved alcohol, but hadn’t crossed that line from wanting a drink to needing a drink, which to me is the definition of addiction. So, it took me a while to realize I NEEDED to drink every evening. I couldn’t imagine ending my work day without that magical potion to lighten my mood, lessen my irritability, and allow me to walk through the door of my home with a smile on my face and not feel that making dinner was burdensome or that the world was coming to an end if my kids left their dishes in the sink. I couldn’t imagine any social event, celebration, or vacation without it. It insidiously became my go to when feeling bored, frustrated, angry, tired, unmotivated, happy, relaxed. Just about everything.
After a while though, other effects became more apparent. I would be more impulsive, saying things I would have censored when sober, overreacting, sending off unedited, rambling emails, forgetting conversations I had the night before. I had trouble sleeping, felt tired most days, increasingly anxious.
That was bad, but the worst part was when I started trying to stop. It was the rare occasion that I appeared noticeably intoxicated, so my kids and my friends never picked up on it. Only my husband did and he was getting increasingly concerned. When I very reluctantly started going to AA meetings, I told my family and friends of my problem. No one seemed shocked. Everyone was supportive. Instead of the disappointment I was expecting, I received praise for facing my problem. It was a huge relief. But, when it turned out that I wasn’t able to stay sober for more than a few weeks or months at a time, I found myself drinking secretively. I could no longer drink in front of the people I had told.
The hiding and lying that resulted, became as much of a problem as the drinking. I had never known this part of myself or imagined I could behave this way. It created a split in my mind. It was as if their were two TV channels – the AM channel that announced emphatically every morning that I was no longer going to drink, and the PM channel that said equally emphatically-screw it, go ahead! I felt out of control and increasingly disconnected from myself. Every day, the same 2 channels would come on the air, and never at the same time. It was crazy making.
Only after many, many attempts to stop did something finally click. Now, each time I thought of drinking, I was able to access the voice that said, “Who are you kidding? You can’t just have one! And, not only that, the moment you do, you will fall into the same quicksand you have fallen into each time you thought you could. And, remember how hard it is to come out.” Only after many, many attempts to stop did it click that it was no longer worth it.
The experience of having piece of mind, clarity of mind, room to think about other things now that the constant obsessing was gone, being unburdened by the shame that comes with lying and hiding-it all felt so wonderful! To think of jeopardizing this no longer made sobriety all about willpower and deprivation. Instead, it felt like a precious gift I never wanted to lose.
A number of years ago, I wrote a song about my road to recovery. My voice and piano playing are not robust, so I asked my son who is an aspiring hip hop producer to sing it and embellish the music a bit. He said he would, but being busy with his own projects and not feeling comfortable singing outside of his genre, it never happened. Last month was my birthday, and his gift to me was his making of my song. It was another precious gift.
Here are the lyrics and the song, Until You Try:
