I started drinking at a very early age and was very popular with my high school crowd as "the life of the party". I could always outdrink everyone who I was with. What started out as fun ended in living hell. My drinking continued through high school and into business college and then into the first law office in which I worked.
At that time, my drinking was fairly well under control; I was young, I had the stamina to get drunk every night and work every day and the vicious cycle went on and on. I really don't like "drunkalogs", so I will try to be brief and say: I was married several times, held very prestigious jobs, i.e.,working in various law firms, for a state Senator and a Probate Judge and the Lt. Governor's office. I had a beautiful home and a husband who I thought I loved at the time; and most of all, my beautiful children.
Well, this husband didn't love me as much as I thought; he did the right thing; he took my children, he booted me out of my beautiful home, and he divorced me. I STILL had not bottomed out. I could still outdrink anyone around; and by then, of course the blackouts had started.
Believe me, I tried to blame everyone and everything I knew for my drinking; the death of my child, the ex-husbands, etc. Everyone was responsible for my drinking except me. The blackouts were, in a way, a blessing. I don't want to remember some of those times.
Finally of course, the time came when I could no longer work; I had to have my daily fix of alcohol every few hours or so. My life was a total living hell. There were so many days when all I could do was look out my window to see if it was daylight or dark.
That, my friends, is something that no living human being would ever want to go through. Of course, eventually the time came when there was no money for apartment rent, or for anything, except the few dollars I kept back for my booze. Thank God for the final blackout -- I came to in a room with a quarter on the dresser in the room.
Thank God my family practiced "TOUGH LOVE". None of my family would allow me in their homes; this was bottom out time. I looked in the yellow pages of the phone book and found the number for AA.
Within minutes, a lady and gentleman from AA were there. Neither of them seemed shocked by the few things I told them. I was so sure my story was unique from anyone else's story. I was so sure I was unique. Little did I know but I was simply an alcoholic, one who was ready to do anything in the world to change my life.
These people took me in, carried me to my first AA meeting, and lots of other people started working with me and detoxing me. I have never been so sick, mentally and physically. But I learned after that, that even my worst day sober was better than my best day drunk. The liquor had stopped working for me. There was no more "high," or good feeling.
Part Two: One of the Lucky Ones.
