Alcoholism: the Quiet Desperation

My thoughts in this story may be difficult to believe for people who have not witnessed or been influenced by alcoholism in a relative, friend or colleague. No one questions or needs to understand life when times are good on the road to happiness, but my message is not that simple. I have opened the dark side of my life to see where I went wrong, what happened and why I was unable cope with life on life's terms. Why did I choose a road through life, which caused me to struggle each step of the way, leaving a trail of pain and destruction wherever I passed? Since I wasn't the only person on the highway to hell, you may see parallels in your life, as I chronicle my self destruction.

I am a recovering alcoholic and drug addict born in the baby boomer generation of overachievers, driven by a material world where happiness is achieved through monetary wealth and possessions. These descriptions of my feelings reveal the out of control behavior that plagued me throughout my adult years and my secret existence that revolved around a mental and physical compulsion to use alcohol and drugs, as a way to live. How could a kid from a small town, get so lost in life that alcohol and drugs became the solution to daily living? I don't have the answer, but I know this disease has no have physical boundaries or human profiles.

I suffered the disgrace, humiliation, fear and emotional pain that are the symptoms of this life threatening disease. My friends were functional alcoholics and addicts content with a lifestyle that was unmanageable, so I felt unique wanting to get control my life. My buddies accepted the consequences associated with our lifestyles, but didn't seem to notice our mental and physical health, as we got progressively worse.

Within my circle of people, I never knew anyone who got clean and sober or even tried recovery. The solution to restoring and maintaining my sanity was the notion that I could control my drinking and drugging any time. My health concerns were more curious than sincere, as I used alcohol and drugs for pain killers to medicate my physical conditions.

I was unaware of any solution, or sober people who would help me find a program of recovery. Instead, I continued the downward spiral to my bottom, as I nursed my disease for a lifetime to hide my feelings of fear, doubt, and insecurity.

Alcohol and drugs invaded my soul, as I floated into a world of addictions that dragged me from human nature, to a person controlled by chemicals, taking the path of least resistance. On the surface my family had a slice of the American dream, but beneath the façade I had acquired the traits that define an alcoholic and drug addict.

I jeopardized my career and rejected fast track opportunities, fearing my private life would expose me, as the decadent person I had become. I dodged people in my professional life to conceal my secrets, but I couldn't say "no" to people associated with alcohol and drugs. Consequently my hell seeped into my business career and social events, damaging my reputation beyond my efforts to control the present and correct the past.

The progression of my disease shows a history of fear based decisions and the anxiety that influenced critical choices, as alcohol poisoned my being and drugs ruled my actions. There were times I was high and emotionally unavailable, when my family or job needed me to be responsible and take care of business.

I need to purge the shame I feel in a way that people suffering from this disease can see my poor judgment, the resulting pain I endured, and impact on those who crossed my trail. Since my past can not be changed, I try to forgive myself and accept that "I needed to do what I did, to get to where I am."

Everyone who loved me sincerely worried about my health, but I pushed them away, knowing insanity was my core problem, not the visual displays of conduct that characterize alcoholics and addicts. Most people who cared about me and wanted to help, stayed in denial of my problems, and were self conscience of the social stigma associated with people who lived like me.

I lost all hope of restoring my health or regaining respectability from this insidious disease that left me isolated, to live in misery and quiet desperation. I believed I would die, as I lived, alone in my head with fear in my gut.

I was spiritually disabled without a soul or a god, so I felt alone as I struggled through life without asking people for help or finding the courage to change. I continued to medicate myself with alcohol and drugs to block the fear that paralyzed me. The only god I knew was from the religion that was jammed down my throat as a kid. That god punished sinners, but I needed a higher power with unconditional forgiveness, peace, and love.

Since my late 20's I woke every morning with a hangover, but it was all I knew, so I learned to start my days physically sick and mentally exhausted. Alcohol, like most street drugs, pulls the user into a cycle of getting high to medicate the pain, suffering, and problems created by the alcohol and drugs. For me, this rotation lasted over 33 years, as I often applied drugs to feel better from alcohol hangovers and drank to control the effects of drugs.

My psychiatrist and doctor monitored my suicidal mind and body functions for the final 3 years of my disease, always looking for signs that my drinking and drugging days had gotten the best of me. In the final stages of my alcoholism, I was just going through the motions of life. We all knew the end was near, but I couldn't stop until death was my only alternative.

The alcohol and drug withdrawal left me paranoid with a short attention span, daily panic attacks, and the fears I had been hiding throughout my life. Once again I was nervous, edgy, spacey and short tempered with enough anxiety to bite my fingernails. Even my drug induced self esteem, began to sink and my confidence was disappearing. I worked with a psychiatrist and his drugs to get clean and sober.

I began crying, as I released a life time of deep emotional pain. Within a couple months I was committed to a psychiatric ward, after which I entered an alcohol and drug detoxification and rehabilitation facility.

My recovery hasn't been easy, but I keep it simple, living one day at a time and believing that a power greater than myself has restored me to sanity. Today I have serenity and freedom to be at peace with who I am. I feel humble, content with what I have, and grateful for a life of real relationships based on honesty. My recovery is a miracle.

I have been clean and sober since December 17, 2001. In sobriety I live life on life's terms. I try to understand a lifetime of feelings I hid behind alcohol and drugs, and I experience new feelings which confuse me. I have difficulty receiving love and cling to the idea that I was a bad person, when all the time I was very sick. I know I can return to the misery of my past life with just one drink.

The fear that consumed me for years has been replaced with faith that everything is exactly as it should be and I will be OK. I know I am not alone because I meet people in different stages of recovery who share what works for them and listen to what works for me. I take suggestions from those who survive, but the disease was all about me and so is my recovery.