Back in October, I woke up one morning and decided - with no uncertainty - that I would never drink again. I had had enough. Enough of being a slave to alcohol. Enough of not being available to my family. Enough of looking like a bloated, scarlet-faced loser. Enough of planning my liquor-store trips to not arouse suspicion that I might have a "problem". Enough of hiding the empties. Enough of waking up every morning feeling ashamed and terrified at what I might have done the night before.
Enough of being the person no one could count on.
Enough of being the person no one could talk to for fear of being criticized or yelled at.
Enough of being the person I would never, ever tolerate as my own friend.
Enough of wasting my god damn life.
It was like a switch had been flipped. I had temporarily quit before, but never did I have the resolve I felt when I awoke on October 8, 2016. The day before was just an ordinary day for me. Went to work feeling like shit as usual, hoping no one could smell the alcohol that surely must be effusing from my pores. Friday nights were always the best anyway - nothing going on the next day and it had been another tough week at work so heck I deserved it anyway.
I remember exactly what I drank that night. My usual double-bottle of cheap wine - which just a few years ago had been enough to get me through the night now only served to give me enough of a buzz to begin to loosen my lips. With the full magnum under my belt, it was time to finish off that emergency remaining liter of vodka hidden in the back of a seldom-used drawer in my office. Midnight came and went and I was only just starting to get a good buzz on. Still "thirsty" and horrifyingly out of alcohol, I turned to the pantry. A half hour later, four single serving bottles of Chardonnay and just enough cooking sherry to make me puke and I was ready to collapse on the couch.
I awoke around noon in my usual sorry state. No one else appeared to be home. Checking my phone, I saw a characteristically cheery message from my wife informing me she had taken our son to the local library for music time, then to the park, then grocery shopping and she would be back by noon - oh and did I need anything while she was out? I struggled to get up, checked my surroundings, achy and parched I headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
"Look, Daddy's awake!!!" my wife exclaimed as she burst through the front door with more vim and vigor than I had anticipated for that hour of the day. A toddler in one hand, 4 or 5 bags of groceries in the other.
And as I stood there - still in my pajamas, still disheveled and still certainly not presentable to even a casual observer - I looked at my wife in the doorway with our smiling son and our bags of groceries. It was at this seemingly innocuous moment that the switch flipped. In that terrifying instant I clearly saw MYSELF. Not through the eyes of my wife, as I often had before, but through the eyes of our precious, sweet son.
I went upstairs to shower and I wept. As I showered, it was like the residue from decades of drinking was being cleansed from my skin, and from my soul. I promised myself I WILL be a better person. I WILL be the best version of me I can be. I am not perfect and I will make mistakes, but I will NOT EVER drink again. Life is too short, too precious and too damn hard to be doing it drunk.
Six months have passed since that day, and I can unhesitatingly say that this was the best decision I have ever made. In many ways it feels like the longest six months of my life. I have done and learned so much in that time - more than I had done in the entire two decades prior. I am proud of the person I am becoming, proud of the way I am living my life and I look forward to the growth in my future.
Stay sober, friends.
ThirdTimesACharm
Enough of being the person no one could count on.
Enough of being the person no one could talk to for fear of being criticized or yelled at.
Enough of being the person I would never, ever tolerate as my own friend.
Enough of wasting my god damn life.
It was like a switch had been flipped. I had temporarily quit before, but never did I have the resolve I felt when I awoke on October 8, 2016. The day before was just an ordinary day for me. Went to work feeling like shit as usual, hoping no one could smell the alcohol that surely must be effusing from my pores. Friday nights were always the best anyway - nothing going on the next day and it had been another tough week at work so heck I deserved it anyway.
I remember exactly what I drank that night. My usual double-bottle of cheap wine - which just a few years ago had been enough to get me through the night now only served to give me enough of a buzz to begin to loosen my lips. With the full magnum under my belt, it was time to finish off that emergency remaining liter of vodka hidden in the back of a seldom-used drawer in my office. Midnight came and went and I was only just starting to get a good buzz on. Still "thirsty" and horrifyingly out of alcohol, I turned to the pantry. A half hour later, four single serving bottles of Chardonnay and just enough cooking sherry to make me puke and I was ready to collapse on the couch.
I awoke around noon in my usual sorry state. No one else appeared to be home. Checking my phone, I saw a characteristically cheery message from my wife informing me she had taken our son to the local library for music time, then to the park, then grocery shopping and she would be back by noon - oh and did I need anything while she was out? I struggled to get up, checked my surroundings, achy and parched I headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
"Look, Daddy's awake!!!" my wife exclaimed as she burst through the front door with more vim and vigor than I had anticipated for that hour of the day. A toddler in one hand, 4 or 5 bags of groceries in the other.
And as I stood there - still in my pajamas, still disheveled and still certainly not presentable to even a casual observer - I looked at my wife in the doorway with our smiling son and our bags of groceries. It was at this seemingly innocuous moment that the switch flipped. In that terrifying instant I clearly saw MYSELF. Not through the eyes of my wife, as I often had before, but through the eyes of our precious, sweet son.
I went upstairs to shower and I wept. As I showered, it was like the residue from decades of drinking was being cleansed from my skin, and from my soul. I promised myself I WILL be a better person. I WILL be the best version of me I can be. I am not perfect and I will make mistakes, but I will NOT EVER drink again. Life is too short, too precious and too damn hard to be doing it drunk.
Six months have passed since that day, and I can unhesitatingly say that this was the best decision I have ever made. In many ways it feels like the longest six months of my life. I have done and learned so much in that time - more than I had done in the entire two decades prior. I am proud of the person I am becoming, proud of the way I am living my life and I look forward to the growth in my future.
Stay sober, friends.
ThirdTimesACharm
I absolutely loved your post-thank you
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