My name is Gracie, and I am an alcoholic. I have been sober since May 27, 1991 and for that I will always be grateful to Alcoholics Anonymous. I started drinking at the age of 17 and altho I indulged in several "side dishes" I always returned home to my drug of choice, alcohol.
What it was like: I grew up in a good Southern Baptist home where I was in church every time the doors were open. I sang in the choir, attended youth camp, youth revivals, and Sunday morning, evening, and Wednesday night church. I had a deep faith in God and aimed to please. Alcohol was not allowed in our house. My mother's grandfather was an alcoholic and a mean one, so my mom made sure my younger sister and I never came into contact with it My mom was my best friend and I knew she was wise and what she said about anything was the truth.
It was at one of these youth revivals that I met my first boyfriend. I was 16 years old. I had had crushes before, but never really had a boyfriend. This guy was older than me and was there to pick up his younger brother. He flirted with me. I played hard to get. We went out. I fell in love. This love was all-encompassing. We talked of marriage. Out of this love, I turned away from everything I had known to be true and slept with him. I knew it was considered a "sin" but love was pure, right? God would understand.
Several months later, he broke up with me. I was devastated. I turned to my mom in my time of need. She told me I was "promiscuious" and that was that. Luckily, an older friend down the street knew just what I needed. She arranged a little party for me at some mutual friends house. It was just the two of us and two boys I knew from high school. They had some cherry vodka and some weed. I desperately wanted to feel better, so I drank a glass of vodka. The next thing I remember was one of the guys trying to pick me up off the floor, me vomiting everywhere, and my friend taking me home. I have no idea how long I had been blacked out. But I knew, for a brief moment in time, I was completely numb and did not think about anything.
I feel deeper into a depression. It was my Senior year in high school and my grades began to drop. My mom took me to a psychiatrist. I remember him asking me silly questions like, "Do you love your mother? Do you love your father?" I don't recall my answers. He gave my mom some pills for me to take. They made me fall asleep in class.
School didn't matter anymore and neither did church. God? What had he done for me lately. I was angry and self-destructive. I began hanging out with a rough crowd. I started smoking and drinking. Somehow, I managed to graduate with a "C" average, down from the "A" I had maintained all through high school.
The parties a started going to had "pot" and I began smoking weed. No big deal. It's an herb, right? God put it here for us. (All of a sudden, I cared about God again.) I met new people and my social circle began to expand. I found a new boyfried. He played bass in a band. I was big time now. From there came other drugs...acid, hashish, uppers, downers, you name it, I did it. After about a year, I started shooting drugs. I just couldn't numb out enough. Cocaine....omg. Finally I found Nirvana. My mom found my needles and took me to the doctor again.
This was my life. I lived for numbness. I wanted to die. I drove messed a all the time. Woke up after black outs to look out the window to see if my car was there. I did not remember the night before or how I got home.
Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, there were lots of boys. Boys of different color, shape, and size. Age and marital status didn't matter. At this time, I also realized if I dealt cocaine, it would be cheaper for me. So I started a little business.
Around this time, my mom found out she had cancer. She died 9 months later. I remember going to the hospital totally messed up. I could barely comprehend what was happening. At one point, about 10 mins after I had left the hospital, my uncle called to say she had died and I needed to return to the hospital. When I got there, I ran to her room. No one was in there. Her body was lying on the bed covered with a sheet. I ran over and ripped the sheet back. I froze. Just stood and stared at her. It was a pivotal moment for me because she was truly not there. It was just a shell...like her spirit had left her. That shook me because I claimed I no longer believed in God or in a spirit. This made me confront, if just for an instant, my own disbelief.
Well, after my mom died, I was really pissed. But the strangest thing happened. I stopped shooting drugs and dealing. I continued to drink tho and do massive amounts of coke. I believe this is when my alcoholism kicked in. To mellow out after the coke was gone, I would drink. I decided to go to school...try to make something of myself. No more massive amounts of drugs for me. But alchohol? On a college campus? Hell yeah! I still needed the numbness. So I began to drink...and drink...and drink. I was an Art major. We're supposed to be full of angst, aren't we? I was not one to disappoint! And I always liked doing what was expected of me, so let the party begin!
I started bringing my alcohol to the school campus and leaving it in the Art dept. fridge. I took night painting classes and drank. Oh, by this time I had married...for the third time....but found a nice fellow student to have an affair with. Lovely. I was turning into the kind of lady my mom always wanted me to be.
So I'm drinking and painting and ... other things...and life is good. One night, on my way home from class, I hit a pedestrian. Not hard. He didn't die, only wound up in traction for a few months in the hospital. For some reason, when the cops came, they determined it was HIS fault and let me go. I was stunned. I was teflon! I could not get into any kind of trouble. I was never held to any kind of accountability. Not good for an alcoholic. Hard to hit bottom like this.
All I can say is this. My life was completely messed up. I had NO self esteem. At the same time, I thumbed my nose at everyone. No one could touch me. I thought you all were a bunch of idiots. The phrase egomaniac with an inferiority complex described me to a tee. I had no real friends. The bottle was my crutch. I wouldn't go out to places that wouldn't serve alcohol. I had to have my friend with me always. I began to get terrible hangovers and miss out on things that were important to me.
I began to make deals with my old friend....I would only drink wine, I would only have 3 drinks...it was insane the lies I told myself. No one wants to be an alcoholic when they grow up. My problem was that I had not grown up yet. Nothing worked anymore. I couldn't get drunk! No matter how much I drank...I could not get that numb feeling back. I just felt like hell physically and mentally.
What happened:
Finally, my sister stepped in. She had a friend who had recently gotten sober. They did an intervention on me and took me to an AA meeting. That night, I went out partying. I ordered a double of everything. I couldnt finish the drinks. I did the same thing the next night. Same result. Drinking was not working.
I went to an AA meeting the next day. I remember crying and my hands shaking for the first month I was there. I would get a cup of coffee and I could barely reach my lips with it without it splashing all over the place. I was so embarassed. I finally got a beginners chip and decided I would do what you people told me to do. I got a sponsor and she told me to start cleaning out the ashtrays, put chairs away, wash coffee cups...and I did. For me, alcohol had beaten me down so far, I was just grateful I had a place to "belong."
She told me not to make any major changes in my life for the first year. I bought a big book and began reading it. I remember the words made no sense, but I read and re-read it. Finally, a few words began to sink in. We started working the dreaded steps. I would look at that board on the wall, and just shake with fear as I read step 4 and 5. ..and 6 and 7. The idea of making amends...omg! But she told me not to worry about that. We would do the steps in order starting with 1. And we wouldn't go any further until I was ready.
My life began to get better. I admitted I was an alcoholic and my life had become unmanageable. All I had to do was look at myself, my home, and my relationships to see that they had all become unmanageable. Step 2 - came to believe a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity...that became a sticking point for me. I knew "who" they were alluding to when the said a Power ... and I was having none of it. I had dedicated my life to God and the church and where did it get me? Nope, not going back there.
But my sponsor pointed out that there was a room full of sober alcoholics doing what I had not been able to do. Surely I could see that they were more powerful than me. But they were human. So she said, see that doorknob over there that you had to turn to walk in here? Isn't it pretty powerful? On one side was my former life and in here was recovery. So for a long time, the doorknob was my Power..my higher power. And yes, I was insane because I kept doing the same thing over and over...drinking...and expecting a different result.
On to Step 3 we went. I was so afraid that if I said that third step prayer about turning my will and my life over to my higher power, I would wind up like Mother Teresa. My sponsor assured me that, so far, of the millions of alcoholics that have said that pray, no one had turned into Mother Teresa yet.
Those first 3 steps laid the groundwork for my recovery. I am glad to say that over the next 6 months, I worked my steps to the best of my ability. And I truly believe that is why I am still sober today, 17 years later.
What it's like now:
I would love to tell you that I am a millionaire, married to the most handsome man in the world, and have the job of my dreams. What I can tell you is this. I have gone through many things sober, the death of my Father, a divorce, and SL! LOL....and have not had to pick up a drink. I feel good about myself and who I am. There is no price you can put on that. Today I have real friends who care about ME, not what I can do for them. And most importantly, I care about other people. That is a miracle.
I have a faith that works for me today. My higher power does not look like the one of my youth. But I never feel alone. And I know I can get through anything as long as I do not try to do it myself alone.
Without people like you and AA, I would not be alive today. Today, I can say I am a grateful alcoholic without feeling angry like I did when I first heard someone say that.
Thank you so much for asking me to share my story with you. It was an honor.
