Being an Alcoholic with an Anxiety Disorder
Addicted to Recovery
Hi, I’m Krissy and I’m an alcoholic. I grew up in a small town on the outskirts of Boston. From as far back as I can remember, I felt apart from, instead of a part of. Until I found alcohol, anyway!
I can’t remember when I learned how to tie my shoes or what my first birthday was like, but I can tell you EVERYTHING about my first drink. I can tell you where I was, who I was with, what I was wearing, even what the weather was like! After that first drink, I couldn’t imagine living my life without alcohol. For me, alcohol was a channel, a way to be comfortable in my own skin. I never realized it was going to be a catalyst for grave destruction.
In my early twenties, I worked as a bartender and went to college. Daytime drinking and partying all night were normal. Needless to say, I soon crossed that invisible line where alcohol was a need and no longer a want. I’d tell myself I needed alcohol to feel normal, or that I’d just have one. Turns out one drink is too many and a thousand drinks are never enough. When the party was over, when everyone was moving on with their lives, I was left alone. I was left alone with my disease.
It wasn’t too long before I found myself suffering from an anxiety disorder. I unsuccessfully tried to fix this with alcohol. Panic attacks dominated daily life, which, in turn, fueled my addiction. The only solution I knew was alcohol.
By now, I was drinking every night, often to the point of functioning blackouts. I found myself in jails, hospitals, and more unfamiliar places than I can count, but I still wasn’t willing to admit I had a problem. However, I was willing to quit drinking for long stretches. Of course, these would be followed by destructive relapses. Half-measures availed me nothing!
I was told, on my last trip to the ER, if I continued down this road, I’d die. By the next morning, I was willing to admit total surrender to my disease. I admitted that I was an alcoholic, powerless and hopeless. I crawled my ass into a sunrise meeting, broken and scared. This is when my recovery journey began.
Honesty, openness, and willingness were taught to me. I walked through hell for over a decade and I was finally ready to experience freedom. I opened up my heart and my mind. Amazingly, the mental obsession began to lift and people could see glimpses of my old self peaking through.
Today, I am truly grateful to feel what it’s like to be recovering from my disease. I’m finally at peace with my past. I have a sponsor, work the steps, and participate in service to keep myself focused in my recovery. My life has miraculously changed and for that – I’m truly grateful.
Why I Relapsed
Relapse: A Four Letter Word
I want to share my experience with relapsing. I’m kind of an expert! I relapsed a bunch of times before I finally got sober for good.
It’s frustrating and confusing to deal with relapse, both for the addict and their loved ones. Pay attention now, ’cause I’m going to let you in on a secret! You relapsed? Your child relapsed? Your significant other relapsed? It’s not the end of the world. There’s hope. There’s always hope! We shouldn’t ever give up on ourselves. Our loved ones certainly don’t.
Our loved ones don’t understand though. My parents, and pretty much everyone else, couldn’t understand why I kept relapsing. I hope my experience can benefit everyone seeking a better understanding of relapse.
So, Why Did I Relapse?
It’s hard to keep focus and hope in the face of repeated relapses. Trust me, I know this as well as anyone. Still, it’s important to remain confident that this time you’re going to stay sober! We learn from each relapse. Rather than looking at them as set-backs, we should view them as learning experiences. I’ve certainly come to view them this way. Each of my relapses took me one step closer to getting sober for good. I gained knowledge, and learned much needed lessons, each time I used.
Obviously, I still had a lot to learn. Still, each and every relapse brought me closer to learning what I needed. To put it another way, I relapsed multiple times because I still had something to learn from my addiction. I had to learn how to deal with emotional pain caused by difficult situations and traumatic memories. The more I used over these things, the more I realized that using wasn’t the answer!
I had to relapse again and again for this knowledge to be burned into my consciousness. After all, as an addict, I’m sort of an expert at fooling myself! I had to learn to get honest, with others and myself. I heard this over and over at meetings, but never internalized it.
My relapses reinforced the simple fact that drugs weren’t worth it. What was it? My life, sanity, health, and family. Drugs weren’t worth all that. Each time I used, this belief became stronger and stronger until, finally, I couldn’t deny it any longer.
Other Reasons I Relapsed
Another reason I used over and over, despite the negative consequences, is because I wasn’t strong enough yet. I built the strength and resolve to stay sober through every mistake I made. Each relapse took me closer to my bottom.
See, I had to really hit bottom. I had to hit my bottom. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, said, or did, until I was at bottom, I wasn’t going to have the resolve to stay sober. Until I did something I said I’d never do, I wasn’t done. Until I crossed that line, I wasn’t done. Now, don’t get me wrong, I crossed a lot of lines in my addiction. That final line though? For some reason that one really hit home. It made me realize just how painful addiction is.
I can’t quite explain why this was different than my other stupid decisions. I’m not sure if it was just an accumulation of all the crap I’d done up to that point. I’m not sure if it was just the final straw. I am sure that we all have to find that one moment that’s our own bottom. We have to face changing or losing ourselves forever.
Relapse made me understand there was NO controlling my use. If I said I could control it, I was only fooling myself. Relapsing didn’t mean I’d never get sober, it just made me a stronger person from the lessons learned. So, please, don’t lose hope! Keep trying and take with you the lessons from each relapse!
-Charmed
Are Addicts Bad People?
Are Addicts Bad People? I Don’t Think So
I found myself part of a pretty interesting conversation tonight. My friends and I were discussing addiction and discrimination. The American War on Drugs isn’t a new one. It’s been going on for decades. There’s been little reform in the grand scope of things. Particularly, there’s been little reform in public policy and the idea of who an addict is.
Most people believe addicts have a choice over whether to get high or not. This isn’t the case. Yes, addicts have a choice about whether they pick up the substance in the first place. That’s where choice ends. Us addicts don’t have any choice about whether to keep on using or not. Our brains and bodies are different. Don’t believe me? Ask a doctor, they’ll tell you. Once we start using, we can’t stop. Simple as that.
If addiction is a disease (and just about everyone agrees it is!), than aren’t addicts being discriminated against? Would society at large say a diabetic should just make their body produce insulin? Then why do they tell addicts to stop using? As for addicts themselves, are we divided into separate classes based on socio-economic status? Are more and more people being jailed and imprisoned? Are we wasting more and more taxpayer money? Is this fair?
Are the conceptions that society holds about addiction realistic? If everyone just took a deep breath, we’d see that we ALL know someone dealing with addiction. It could be a friend, a family member, or a business associate. It could even be you.
The idea that us addicts are bad people and deserve the punishment we receive? That’s just a tad bit harsh, don’t you think? Especially considering how much society now knows about addiction. How long should we be punished for suffering from a mental illness? How long should the stigma of being an addict be a bad one?
The questions are here and they ain’t going anywhere. It’s time to look at the War on Drugs from a different perspective, from the eyes of an addict.