After destroying my kids' lives and losing our home, car and my job, I became temporarily sober for periods of 6 months or so -- never lasting more than a year on the wagon.
I gave up. There was no reason left to drink -- nothing left to lose -- everything was already gone.
After 12 years of off-and-on-again drinking (mostly on again), I entered treatment for the third time. This time, I had insurance so the facility was a bit up-scale.
Figuring I had a free three-week stay in a place with good food, air conditioning, and friendly counselors, I settled in for a vacation from the hell I'd been living.
At the end of week one, the counselor told me my insurance wouldn't pay for more time there. I figured, 'okay, it's been fun, now they're kicking me out.' I'm familiar with being thrown out.
Then, the counselor told me "we're keeping you, anyway."
Shocked, I decided to enjoy the ride. But, something happened inside me. These people cared. I was more than an insurance payment to them. They kept me three more weeks -- then insisted I continue in out-patient therapy with them, for the entire year.
It has been 10 years since I've had a drink. Someone actually cared enough to help when I could no longer care about myself.
Today, if I even think of alcohol, I remember, with gratitude, the people who stuck their necks out and stayed with me when all hope was gone from my heart.
