464 Days
Today I am grateful for exercise and endorphins. I am also grateful for the smell of a good meal being prepared.
In early May of 1985, I made my first serious attempt to quit drinking. I had tried to quit before, after a particularly rough night or time or after I cut through my own denial enough to realize what shape I was in. Those attempts lasted usually only days or weeks, sometimes only hours. This time, thanks in part to the concerns expressed by my friends, as I spoke about in yesterday's post, the length I quit ended up being over a year. 464 days. But who is counting, right?
The fog cleared a bit and I felt good about being sober. At least I wasn't accumulating more hangovers, blackouts, unhealthy choices, and risky behaviors to add to my guilt and shame. Only years later did I realize trying to quit on my own was itself unhealthy and risky.
I confided in a few close friends during this time, but didn't talk to my family about it. I went to see a peer counselor at the university I was then attending. I stayed involved in softball, I maintained good grades, and held a part-time job. My mistake was thinking all I needed to do was quit drinking. That is just the start. Alcoholism is a disease that reaches across all aspects of a person's being-physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual.
Being physically sober may help in some ways, but if the other three areas are ignored, not given due diligence, that is known as "a dry drunk" or "white-knuckling it." And it isn't fun or pretty. Consider this: alcohol was my escape and gave me a few hours here and there where I could turn my brain off long enough to stop beating myself up. Take away the alcohol and I had no escape. I was wound tight and full of sharp edges.
Months before I drank again I had started thinking about it. I convinced myself I was doing better and that I was strong enough now to just drink normally. (What a joke! I never drank "normally.") 464 days into my dry experiment I had a beer from my parent's basement refrigerator. Just one beer. Sitting alone at the kitchen table. To prove I could just drink one and be fine.
Trouble is, I wasn't fine. I was sick and had gotten sicker since I had quit drinking in May of 1985. Within a few weeks my drinking was as bad as it had ever been. I drank for three more years and somehow survived it. When I finally started learning about the disease of alcoholism I found out that it is a progressive disease. Untreated alcoholism gets worse, with or without alcohol. My 464 dry drunk days had shown me that. It was a valuable lesson on my path to recovery, very valuable.
It is a lesson I look back on as crucial in my life and recovery. I am thankful for such lessons, even if I only realized the lesson in hindsight. Many of life's most important lessons are like that, aren't they?
What life lessons are you grateful for today?
In early May of 1985, I made my first serious attempt to quit drinking. I had tried to quit before, after a particularly rough night or time or after I cut through my own denial enough to realize what shape I was in. Those attempts lasted usually only days or weeks, sometimes only hours. This time, thanks in part to the concerns expressed by my friends, as I spoke about in yesterday's post, the length I quit ended up being over a year. 464 days. But who is counting, right?
The fog cleared a bit and I felt good about being sober. At least I wasn't accumulating more hangovers, blackouts, unhealthy choices, and risky behaviors to add to my guilt and shame. Only years later did I realize trying to quit on my own was itself unhealthy and risky.
I confided in a few close friends during this time, but didn't talk to my family about it. I went to see a peer counselor at the university I was then attending. I stayed involved in softball, I maintained good grades, and held a part-time job. My mistake was thinking all I needed to do was quit drinking. That is just the start. Alcoholism is a disease that reaches across all aspects of a person's being-physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual.
Being physically sober may help in some ways, but if the other three areas are ignored, not given due diligence, that is known as "a dry drunk" or "white-knuckling it." And it isn't fun or pretty. Consider this: alcohol was my escape and gave me a few hours here and there where I could turn my brain off long enough to stop beating myself up. Take away the alcohol and I had no escape. I was wound tight and full of sharp edges.
Months before I drank again I had started thinking about it. I convinced myself I was doing better and that I was strong enough now to just drink normally. (What a joke! I never drank "normally.") 464 days into my dry experiment I had a beer from my parent's basement refrigerator. Just one beer. Sitting alone at the kitchen table. To prove I could just drink one and be fine.
Trouble is, I wasn't fine. I was sick and had gotten sicker since I had quit drinking in May of 1985. Within a few weeks my drinking was as bad as it had ever been. I drank for three more years and somehow survived it. When I finally started learning about the disease of alcoholism I found out that it is a progressive disease. Untreated alcoholism gets worse, with or without alcohol. My 464 dry drunk days had shown me that. It was a valuable lesson on my path to recovery, very valuable.
It is a lesson I look back on as crucial in my life and recovery. I am thankful for such lessons, even if I only realized the lesson in hindsight. Many of life's most important lessons are like that, aren't they?
What life lessons are you grateful for today?
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