Alcoholism is a terrible disease. It has no interest in who you are. It does not care how much money you have or what you have accomplished in your life.
It can take away everything you have, including your own sense of self-worth and self-esteem; it has destroyed many lives and hurt many families. I know all of this because I am an alcoholic.
My journey into the abyss was perhaps lying dormant in me for years, as a number of family members before me had succumbed to the devastation of alcoholism. Not only did it grab them by the throat — it killed some of them, too.
I was headed down that same road. Thankfully, I had the love of my two wonderful children, who eventually were the ones who helped save me. Only then could I begin the process of saving myself.
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My story toward alcoholism began in 1990 when my mother passed away. Shortly after that, I separated from my husband of 13 years. I was now without my own mom and was a single mother to Savannah and Steven, nine and six at the time. On the outside, I was continuing to raise them with as much love and direction as I could give. On the inside, however, I felt nothing but hurt and a sense of failure as I struggled to make sense of my life.
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So I began the process of trying to unwind after each lonely day. A glass of wine at night would help calm my senses and relax my mind so I could sleep. But over time, the one innocent and harmless glass of wine became two glasses, then eventually a bottle each day, and maybe even two bottles per day. By the time this seven-year odyssey peaked in the spring of 1997, Savannah and Steve, at that point 16 and 13, decided to tell my brothers, Will and Matt, that I needed help.
On April 23, a date that will always be part of me, I was invited to what I thought was a family barbecue; it was just after my 43rd birthday. Instead, as I walked into my brother’s house to a deafening silence, the family room was filled with many people who truly cared about me. An intervention had begun. My brothers were there, my dad was there, my pastor (who was a recovering alcoholic) was there, and of course Savannah and Steven were there, tears streaming down their faces as I entered the room. I will never forget the words of my children as they read a letter pleading with me to get the help I so desperately needed.
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So, just a few hours later, there I was, walking through the front door of The Betty Ford Center, in fear of where this ultimate step would take me. I knew I would be there for the next 30 days and I wondered where I’d find the strength to rise from the rock-bottom place I had reached.
The one thing I did know through the humiliation, embarrassment, and sense of failure was that I wanted desperately to get better, and that I was going to make certain April 23, 1997, was the last day I would ever have an alcoholic drink.
That was a promise I made to myself — and now, almost 20 years later, I have kept that promise. I had my last drink before entering The Betty Ford Center and I remain sober today.
I learned a tremendous amount of humility from this experience; I found out how powerless I am over an addictive substance. I try each day to give my life over to God. And I learned to accept life on life’s terms. There is so much beauty — so much pain as well. But no matter how many painful things might come my way, I am truly grateful that I have God by my side to deal with it, not a substance.
It has not always been easy. It never is when you are an alcoholic. The well-known phrase “one day at a time” is the Bible by which all of us who have suffered from this illness need to live. I do not take my sobriety lightly. I will never take my sobriety lightly.
Each and every day I count the blessings I was given. The love and support my two children showed me when I needed it most made it possible for me to survive when everything was bleakest. I am so grateful to many other family members and friends who have been so kind. They did not give up on me when I could have given up on myself. Today, my daughter and son live in my town. My daughter is happily married and raising three young boys. My son is single, loves the career he has chosen, and enjoys tennis and dating.
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When you have been in such a dark place and have been given a second chance to experience brightness, being able to share my journey with others who may be dealing with similar issues is a true gift and one I am truly thankful to have.
For those of you who are suffering from addiction, you are not alone. So many people struggle with this every day and you need to know people are there to help you. They want to help you. Just ask for it. What waits for you on the other end is sobriety. Please reach out and grab it. What a wonderful experience it is.
BA Austin is an independent art history lecturer who has also worked in the museum and academic fields for 30 years. She lives in southern California.
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