I have been lurking on this forum for many, many years, so as you have probably already figured out, I know I have a serious problem with alcohol. After a night of reading all of your reassuring and inspiring comments, I would always feel energized for days. I would promise myself that I would quit drinking. But it would never take long for me to slip comfortably back into my old destructive, awful life.
I know this program works. So many of you are living proof. I have even read the book and taken the supplements. I was confused. Why wasn't it working for me? Then after a particularly brutal night recently, I had an epiphany. If I want to heal my life, I have to make a real commitment. I can't sit on the sidelines any longer and hope for a miracle by osmosis. So I finally registered as a member and I vowed to post.
I realize that I have to quit hiding from the truth and start fully participating if I want to beat my addiction. I need to be held accountable. This is the first time I have had the courage to truly admit that I have a problem. Although I'm sure many people in my life are well aware of that fact.
I don't want to bore anyone, but here's the abridged version of my stupid life. The last stretch of true sobriety I can remember was when I was pregnant with my sons. They are in their early twenties now. I managed to keep it under control during their early childhood, but I always managed to sneak in a few glasses of wine after they went to sleep. I chalked it up to the stress of being a single mother. Then I met the love of my life. He was an alcoholic. I was more of a "problem drinker" back then. We got married. I started to enjoy our wine at night. Soon cocktail hour turned into drinking from the time we got home from work until we went to bed. It seemed harmless. We joked that since we both had decent jobs and a small but nice home that we couldn't be alcoholics. Denial 101.
Fast forward to today. He lost his good job, my 15 year marriage is over, and our nice little home was foreclosed on by the bank. The last few years are a haze to me. I hit bottom. Now, I am trying to rebuild my life, but will never truly get there if I don't kick this addiction. I thought when he left I would get better (I know, the blame-game), but if anything I am doing worse. Depressed, ashamed, alone, and very tired. I won't go into further detail in this post -it's long enough - but let's just say, I have recognized myself in so many of your post.
Thanks for listening. I feel better already.
I know this program works. So many of you are living proof. I have even read the book and taken the supplements. I was confused. Why wasn't it working for me? Then after a particularly brutal night recently, I had an epiphany. If I want to heal my life, I have to make a real commitment. I can't sit on the sidelines any longer and hope for a miracle by osmosis. So I finally registered as a member and I vowed to post.
I realize that I have to quit hiding from the truth and start fully participating if I want to beat my addiction. I need to be held accountable. This is the first time I have had the courage to truly admit that I have a problem. Although I'm sure many people in my life are well aware of that fact.
I don't want to bore anyone, but here's the abridged version of my stupid life. The last stretch of true sobriety I can remember was when I was pregnant with my sons. They are in their early twenties now. I managed to keep it under control during their early childhood, but I always managed to sneak in a few glasses of wine after they went to sleep. I chalked it up to the stress of being a single mother. Then I met the love of my life. He was an alcoholic. I was more of a "problem drinker" back then. We got married. I started to enjoy our wine at night. Soon cocktail hour turned into drinking from the time we got home from work until we went to bed. It seemed harmless. We joked that since we both had decent jobs and a small but nice home that we couldn't be alcoholics. Denial 101.
Fast forward to today. He lost his good job, my 15 year marriage is over, and our nice little home was foreclosed on by the bank. The last few years are a haze to me. I hit bottom. Now, I am trying to rebuild my life, but will never truly get there if I don't kick this addiction. I thought when he left I would get better (I know, the blame-game), but if anything I am doing worse. Depressed, ashamed, alone, and very tired. I won't go into further detail in this post -it's long enough - but let's just say, I have recognized myself in so many of your post.
Thanks for listening. I feel better already.
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