A Woman's Story - How I Got Sober

When recovering people tell their stories in AA, they share their Experience first then Strength and finally Hope.

Last nite, Election nite 2008, five members of my Friday nite North Beverly, MA, group took a commitment to a meeting in Everett, MA. A commitment is when one group in AA goes to another meeting to speak. We each told how it was for us when we drank, (Experience), how is is now for us; and what we do to maintain sobriety (Strength) and our Hope for the future.

"You have to give it away to keep it" and commitments are one way that we give it away.

I didn't pick up a drink until I was 18 years old. That's late for most alcoholics. However, my start made up for lost time.

I was invited on a blind date by a high school friend. She had been dating a young man and that young man had a friend who wanted to meet me. The plan was that we were going to a party in Beverly.

They picked me up at work and I climbed into the back seat. I had to get over 2 cases of beer and I remember thinking I didn't like the look of things. My date had obviously had been drinking. He was a handsome young man with lots of black curly hair home on leave from the Submarine Service but he was very drunk.

I don't remember a lot about that evening. (The first of the blackout drinking.) We didn't go to a party. We ended up at my date's house where his parents were out but his grandmother and 6 year old sister were asleep in the back bedroom.

This is how that nite turned out for me. I fell down and cracked my head on a coffee table, I got pregnant, I came home to my parents at 3:00AM. I had never been home any later than midnight. My parents were horrified at my drunken state and were probably afraid I had been killed. My date ran over and killed our cat on the way out of the driveway.

One might think that after that experience I would never drink again - wrong my living Hell would go on for over 20 years.

I married that young man and we had our first child at 19. We were in the Navy, Submarine Service, New London, CT. Before we met "that young man" was attending Annapolis Prep School in Bainbridge, MD; and it looked as if he would continue on to Annapolis.

However, in those days a cadet could not be married never mind have a pregnant wife. You can well imagine how that went over with his family. His grandfather was an immigrant from Italy and "that young man" was the first to achieve anything like going to Annapolis.

We never went to Annapolis; we extended in the Navy for another year and had our daughter in New London, Ct. I was 19 when I delivered her. I was alone. My husband "out to sea". I was afraid.

I looked at this child and wondered what to do? How was I, a child myself, going to care for her? My husband was 19 too and in those days, husbands didn't help.

He did help though, everytime he went to sea, we could buy cigaretts and booze for next to nothing. He came back once with the biggest bottle of whiskey I've ever seen!

We were drinking buddies my husband and I and that little girl went with us everywhere.

On a hot summer evening, with my daughter on my lap, on my husband's Aunts porch, we were drinking something she had made us with vodka. I can still remember how that felt. I had discovered the secret to life. That knot in my stomach that had been with me since childhood disappeared and I was bullet-proof and ten feet tall. Nothing could hurt me again. I could do this! I could be a functioning alcoholic.

I became a daily drinker. My husband went to college days, worked evenings, I worked days and if my mother-in-law was available to babysit, I went out in the evenings. We were married but our schedules prevented us from spending much time together.

We had another daughter 4 years later, bought a house; and my disease was progressing. Added to the daily booze was speed. I loved speed. Don't get me wrong, booze was my drug of choice but I could drink even more taking speed.

"I could bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan; and never let you forget you were a man". I believed I could do anything. It was not uncommon to see me at 2:00AM shingling the outside of the house. No one ever said anything about my behavior, ever.

"Unfounded, ungrounded fear", I had it once again and that fear was coming on as panic attacks. Sometimes a grocery cart full of groceries would have to be left in the store because I felt as though the walls were closing in and thought I was about to have a heart attack.

Off I went to the Dr's office and came out with a script for Valium. Valium was touted as the miracle drug that was non-addictive. In those day the Dr's gave out scripts for 500 or more pills. Again, I'm an alcoholic and booze is my drug of choice, but given the opportunity to change how I feel; I'll take anything.

Now, I'm on booze, speed and Valium but the panic attacks when away.

Our oldest daughter inherited our disease and started smoking pot at a young age. She was just like me! This was a beautiful young woman with everything going for her. Way above average intelligence and a personality that wouldn't quit - but just like her mother. I mean that she was just like me as far as the disease of alcoholism is concerned.

We would ground her for something and she would climb out her bedroom window and take off for Florida or California.

At one point when my daughter had disappeared on one of her escapes, the phone rang around 3:00AM. Her best fried Suzie and four other young people from our town had gone off the road. Two were killed and the others were seriously injured. Suzie was driving and was killed. Her mom was on the phone asking for my daughter. Suzie's mom wanted my daughter there to help comfort her and help make the arrangements for Suzie's funeral. However, Suzie was the only one who knew where my daughter was and Suzie was gone.

This was the beginning of the end for me. I thought I should be the one that's dead not those beautiful young people. I began to see the hoplessness of my drinking and my life. I began to see but I was powerless to do anything.....yet.

The funerals were held in our small town on the cemetary hillside. I remember feeling so sad and helpless, alone. The lonely walk of the drunk.

Our youngest daughter was left out of the loop. She didn't inherit the disease but she did get the "isms". She also learned how to be the "good daughter". Her sister got all the attention because she was always in trouble at school, with us or the law.

I received a call at work saying that my youngest was in the hospital and that she had attempted suicide. I rushed to the hospital and as I was walking down the hall, my daughter's therapist was coming toward me. I saw in this woman's eyes just how much she didn't like me. This was another one of those moments when I knew with every fiber of my being that I was the cause of my daughter's unhappiness.

My daughter didn't want to see me. I was devastated. Walking out of the hospital, I felt the vallium in my pocket and chewed three on my way to the liquor store.

Still, something happened, a small light in my soul telling me it was me and I needed to look at what I was doing to my family. I'd always maintained that I wasn't hurting anyone but myself. A common cry from alcoholics. "I'm not hurting anyone but myself!" Still it was a while longer before I "saw the light".

My daughter recovered and actually became stronger through therapy and ALANON & Adult Children of Alcoholics. She also moved out of the house to live with her boyfriend who was to become her husband later.

My drinking was getting worse if that's possible. All the controls are off. My husband was never home and the girls were gone - all moved out.

We had a friend who had become sober in AA. I drank with this guy and I couldn't believe he didn't drink anymore. We got into some real jackpots together. His name was Olof and I used to ask him if he thought I was an alcoholic. Olof always said "No, your'e not a drunk, Jan". That actually made me angry; I guess I wanted him to tell me I was a drunk and to also tell me how I could stop drinking or at least drink without getting drunk. Here's the paradox though. A drunk cannot drink without getting drunk. A drunk doesn't want to drink without getting drunk. Every time I drank, I set out to get drunk, to feel the "click". Oh, yes, everything will be fine now.

I had no idea that only one drink would set off the compulsion to drink more. No idea that it was the first drink that got me drunk; I thought it was the last drink that was too much.

Looks like I've reached the limit on number of words for this module. I'll add another text module and continue on with my "Experience, Strength and Hope":

More to come.......