A Sober Life Begins...
In the days following my conversation with my older sister, several events unfolded.
My Dad quit drinking...
I discovered that my father, who enjoyed a nightcap every day, had quit drinking to demonstrate that a life without alcohol is possible. Although he never drank to excess, he had a drink or two each night for over sixty years. He stopped for my sake without telling me.
I discover a new therapist...
My mother, after discussing my situation with a friend, provided the contact information for a therapist who could help without judgment. Though not an addiction specialist, Mom encouraged to call and schedule an appointment. I asked Mom to call on my behalf; she told me that Peggy (the therapist) told her I had to make the initial call. Somehow, I managed to do so.
A mentor jumps in...
A close friend of my parents entered my life at the right time. Having faced similar challenges thirty years earlier, he became a mentor and offered support when I needed it most. His temperament, a gentle blend of wisdom and understanding, allowed us to get along incredibly well. He checked on me daily, listened without judgment, and drove me to AA meetings near and far to find a couple groups I connected with. Despite not having attended an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting in many years, he once again set foot in those rooms, solely for my benefit. His steadfast support felt like a lighthouse in the tumultuous sea of my struggle. If our paths had crossed earlier, during my denial, there's no way I would have accepted his offer of help. But in that hour, his presence was a gift I deeply appreciated.
As I mentioned earlier, I initially tried several AA groups but disliked the atmosphere, so I stopped attending. However, as I'll explain, I committed to 90 meetings in 90 days, and I fulfilled that promise.
If you try AA and aren't satisfied, I urge you to explore other groups, as each has a distinct personality. AA has been transformative for countless individuals and may be your key to recovery – it's completely free, so you have nothing to lose.
Turning Point...
I visited my ex-wife on Mother's Day, 2005 (18 months after her grandfather died, and a year after the divorce was final). We were not seeing each other at all by this time, yet I would have still done anything to win her back. Although I had run out of options and had absolutely no plan, I told her I was finally going to get help. Real help. She held my shaking hands, looked deep into my eyes, and replied "I've always loved you, you'll always be a part of me, and I know you'd do anything for me. Except for what you can't."
I haven't had a drop of alcohol since that moment. Not one.
The following morning my primary care physician squeezed me into his schedule. I’d changed physicians after the encounter mentioned previously - and although my new doctor did his best to get me to stop drinking, he didn’t make me feel insignificant during my visits. When I called his office Monday morning and said it was important that I see him, that day, he personally called me back a few minutes later and said “come in, right now - I’ll make time to see you.”
The First Weeks...
Shortly after arriving in my doctor's office, we talked about Peggy, my therapist, who had reached out to him a few day earlier. She had informed him of a medication, proven successful in Europe for aiding individuals in quitting alcohol, that had just recently obtained approval in the United States. He had never prescribed it before, but he agreed to try it with me under certain conditions.
To make a long story short, I promised him that I would attend 90 AA meetings in 90 days if he prescribed the medication. He agreed on the condition that I would continue to see Peggy regularly and visit his office weekly. Over the next six weeks, I saw the therapist twice a week and my doctor every Friday, and I began attending AA meetings as promised, often twice a day.
During that first week, my doctor checked in with my parents to make sure I didn't need to be hospitalized for withdrawal symptoms. My hands shook terribly, but I wasn't hospitalized. The desire to drink to calm my nerves was overwhelming, but I managed to resist.
My shaking was so severe that my mother insisted I sleep on the main floor, forbidding me from using stairs. I vividly remember the hallucinations I experienced and the conversations I had with people who weren't actually there. As I began to recover, I bought a large container of talcum powder and sprinkled it in my bed each night to help absorb the sweat.
A New Start...
A few weeks later, my former boss offered me a summer job. With the exception of him, virtually nobody at the company knew anything about my history. He knew I had hit a low point and was trying to recover. I was grateful for a second chance he had given me months earlier (after that contract ended, I resumed drinking heavily). Now, I'm freshly sober again, and he's calling with a job for the summer - I knew that if I messed up, I'd lose the job and possibly my life. I was no longer reeking of alcohol or shaking, and my mind was clearing up. I had a regular job with a steady paycheck.
In early June, I started flying to Phoenix for work each week, returning home on Fridays. I stayed sober, saw the therapist on Saturdays, took the medication consistently, and attended AA meetings in Phoenix and Atlanta. Upon receiving the monthly child support, my ex-wife appeared gratified, acknowledging my efforts to abstain from alcohol. Yet, she maintained a non-committal stance, reflecting a sense of wariness.
As she ventured back into the dating scene, I found myself wrestling with the dual challenge of maintaining my sobriety singlehandedly and coming to terms with her moving forward.
I stayed sober throughout the summer.
My Drinking Days Are Over...
The first time I knew I could live without alcohol was Labor Day weekend, just a little over four months after my last drink. After four months of sobriety, I knew I could do this indefinitely. There was something different this time around. I knew it wouldn't be easy; there were times I really wanted a drink, but I managed to resist the cravings. I remember the year mainly because Hurricane Katrina was hitting New Orleans as I headed to Phoenix for the last week of my summer job.
As with every other week that summer, I spent five days working. Then, I went on a solo nine-day vacation exploring northern Arizona, New Mexico, southern Colorado, Utah, and Nevada. While staying in a dumpy motel in Durango, Colorado, with a view of the Animas River, I realized I no longer needed a drink. I wanted one. I really wanted one - and if I had one, nobody but me would ever know. I was 1,500 miles from home, and my plane ticket out of Albuquerque was a week away.
But, I didn't need one.
Instead, I walked over to the Animas River, sat on the bank, and watched the Durango & Silverton train roll by. I waved at the kids who were waving at me while tears streamed down my face. I knew at that moment I was done with drinking, and I was euphoric.
As I looked out of the window on the plane ride home a week later, I could see the devastation below from Hurricane Katrina. I thought of the good people whose lives had been turned upside down or ended due to no fault of their own. And I thought to myself...
I’m lucky to be alive. I mean, I'm really lucky to still be alive. I know my drinking days are over. And, I am happy. I am so very, very happy. No matter what happens on a personal level going forward, I know I'll be ok. I haven't felt this way in a long, long time.
Rebuilding...
Upon returning from my vacation, I received a call from my boss. He was pleased with my work over the summer and had secured a long-term contract for me, along with a pay raise, health insurance, and no traveling. I accepted immediately.
My ex-wife let me spend Christmas morning with the family, marking my seven and a half months without a drink. I arrived at our old home before sunrise to be there when the boys woke up. She was genuinely surprised and happy to see that I was sober and content. This marked the first time since our divorce that we spent time together. She could see the sincerity in my eyes. Over the course of 2006, we slowly began to spend more time around each other. Trust is hard to rebuild once lost, and I had let her down many times. She was cautious not to enable me again.
In March 2007, my father passed away from cancer. By then, my ex-wife and I had started to reconcile. We had taken our boys to Disney World in February, and they witnessed my sobriety first-hand. A few days before my father's passing, I promised him that alcohol would no longer be part of my life, regardless of whether we got back together. He died knowing I had been sober for almost two years and that we might remarry, both brought him immense joy.
In September 2007, two and a half years after my last drink, we remarried—officiated by the same priest who had once encouraged my wife to divorce me. Our families were genuinely happy for us. Her father, who had seen me at my worst, was delighted for his daughter, our three children, and for me.
My mother passed away in 2015 after spending her last years living in an in-law suite with us. She couldn't have been prouder of both of us: me for leaving alcohol behind and my wife for forgiving and moving forward.
Forgiving is not forgetting. My wife has not forgotten - but she also never ever uses my past as a weapon…it doesn’t come up. But, again - forgiving is not the same as forgetting, nor should it be.
I Know What You're Going Through