by Sally Rosa | Apr 24, 2013 | Addiction Treatment, Drug Addiction
One Woman’s Story of Quitting Alcohol
I’ve wanted to quit alcohol for awhile now. It’s been years since I could control and enjoy my drinking. I’ve tried to regulate and cut down with little success. Whenever I do, it isn’t fun. I don’t have a good time and I ALWAYS go back to out of control drinking.
So, I went looking for a successful way to quit drinking. I listened to meditations while I slept. I drank non-alcoholic beer. I took up exercise and other activities. Nothing worked! After a ton of research, I found something that did.
How I Quit Drinking
I wrote down the pro’s and con’s of drinking. I put them on paper to see, right in front of me, the truth about what happens when I drink. Some of the pro’s included: drinking helps me unwind, it helps me have fun, and it helps me be more outgoing.
Okay, those are all good things. Still, I had a ton more con’s. These included: strained relationships, lack of energy, lack of accountability, depression, and guilt. There were about 500 more!
So, my con’s far outweigh my pro’s. I made up my mind for good. I was done drinking. Here’s what I did next –
I decided on a quit date. On this specific date, I quit drinking and started to implement constructive goals to work towards.
I began getting rid of temptation. I removed all alcohol from my home and office. I also removed all reminders of alcohol and my drinking days (things like shot glasses, pictures, etc.).
I announced my decision to quit. I told my friends and family that I was done. I gave myself accountability. I’d never done this before because I never really wanted accountability. Now I had it. I was upfront about what I could, and couldn’t, handle and how I needed to stay away from bars and certain events.
I kept a diary of my thoughts and behavior. I wrote down anything and everything that happened to me. I wrote if I wanted to drink. I wrote if I did drink. I began to learn from the past. I began to use the past as a tool to help my future.
Before You Quit
Depending on how much you drink, you should check with your physician before quitting. Scratch that, check with your physician no matter how much you drink. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. Besides, alcohol withdrawals can be deadly! If you need help, get help.
by Fiona Stockard | Mar 21, 2013 | Addiction Treatment, Drug Addiction
CASE NUMBER: 07-1414
TO: My Mother and Father
Everyone makes mistakes in their life. There are two ways to handle those mistakes, you can turn the experience into a positive, or make it define your lifestyle. I chose to go with option A.
In my case, I have screwed up a lot over the years. Always thinking I was unbeatable, but with time, consequences do arise. You begin to realize that you are above nothing. Even at my lowest point, my parents have stood by me. Originally, this was supposed to be an apology letter, but I have decided to twist it into a thank you letter.
I am not sorry for my addictions, they were not by choice. They helped me become the strong person I am today. They made me realize that life is too short to screw it up for something that benefits me in not one single way.
I choose to look at everything the world has to offer and how I am able to overcome and conquer all. Being a strong person does not get you very far without support from the family.
I just want to thank you for giving me the opportunity to grow into the person I truly am.
Thank you for your support, trust, confidence, and love- it is all appreciated.
Sincerely,
The Best Bull-Sh**ter Ever
________________________________________________________________________________________
Yeah, this was a letter I wrote two years before I got sober. It was part of my probation. I was a great manipulator my entire life. I mean turning an apology letter into a thank you letter? Come on! Give me a break. I kept my family up countless nights. I made them bail me out of jail in the middle of the night and I still had the audacity to withhold an apology?
Addiction is a disease. I know this NOW. I didn’t know it when I wrote my letter (between bong hits and Natural Ice beer sips, or course). I thought if I promised to stop getting high, I’d be a good kid.
I wasn’t ready to get sober, plain and simple. I wasn’t ready to get sober until I had a habit I couldn’t break. When I made amends to my parents, I had over a year sober. I wasn’t simply saying sorry, that I’d be a better daughter, or that I wanted a relationship with them. I already put these things in motion.
See, in sobriety, I learned that actions speak louder than words. I learned how to stop being the best bull-s**tter ever. I learned how to be an honest and genuine person who really could learn from their past.
Sometimes, you just need to reflect and thank God you’re smarter than you used to be!
by Fiona Stockard | Jan 28, 2013 | Addiction Treatment, Benefits of Sobriety
Take a walk across the country and you’ll find your share of the beaten, the weathered, the splintered souls left tattered, staggered and tattooed by addiction. See, addiction’s become the new apple pie, the new baseball, the new Coca-Cola. These ravaged, misguided figures haunt the alleys and streets of America. They moan in the houses where the middle-class once lived. Take a look and you’ll see them, you’ll find them, you’ll step over them.
You may have stepped over her. You may have walked right by. You may have laughed at her one night in a bar. You may have crossed to the other side of the street and avoided eye contact. You may have bought weed from her. You may have bought beer from her.
Why not? She’s pretty, right? No, she’s not pretty. Saying she’s pretty is like saying Shakespeare was a writer or Keith Moon was a drummer. She looks like heaven walking towards you with legs that go all the way up. She smiles the way you wish they all smiled. She doesn’t walk, she floats. Maybe you could find a better looking woman. Maybe you could also find a better writer, a better drummer. The only problem? They haven’t made one yet. See, the good news has always been that she’s beautiful on the outside.
But what if the Mona Lisa was made of shit? What if a sunset signaled the end of the world? If she, or he, or it, or anything looks beautiful but brings only destruction and chaos, well, that beauty isn’t anything at all. That beauty’s a mask.
You were probably fooled by the mask. She wasn’t. She knew the fire was rising. She knew the fire would consume her. She welcomed it. The needles in her arm, the nights in ICU, the crying parents, the angry friends, the beatings, the abuse, the screams. The nights sleeping in the rain. The nights that sleeping in the rain can’t and won’t wash away. The psych-wards, the rehabs, the boyfriends, the husbands, you, me, anyone. We can’t do s**t.
We can’t do s**t. So, what can we besides walk over this zombie of self-destruction? We wait. We wait for good news. Good news rarely comes. The good news isn’t breaking news, it isn’t splattered across the front page, it isn’t tweeted, it isn’t googled, it isn’t Facebooked. The good news is slow. The good news is humble. The good news is quiet. It’s real, raw, rare. The good news is here and it’s her.
She walked from a cave of needles, of alcohol, of men, of pain. She walked into a world that’s frightening and unknown. She held her head high. She pushed past temptation. She fought though all the s**t, fixing, polishing, remembering every mistake. Never blaming, always owning up and always moving on. This is the good news you’ll never hear. This is the good news that’s not published.
You just have to see it. It can’t be explained. It’s too real for that. It’s too different. It’s too new.
To explain what she looks like, what she feels like, what she is when she’s hunched over, in an alley, talking to a woman she used to be – well, to explain that wouldn’t do her justice. She was emotionally beaten, knocked to the floor, destroyed.
This time she rose with class, with dignity, with love. I could tell you what that looks like but you wouldn’t believe me. You wouldn’t believe that what used to send her to the needle, the bottle, the powder, well, that now makes her to rise even higher. The people she talks to today don’t buy drugs or booze or sex. The people she talks to today give her hope, spirit, and strength. What does she give them? Everything. She gives them everything.
She helps more women stay sober each day than most rehabs do in a year. How? She tells the truth. She talks without shame, without guilt, without hesitation. She talks with love, with the knowledge that she’s been there and gotten better.
What does this woman, this insane woman, this confused woman, this disaster of a woman, this heart-aching woman, this pained woman, this anguished woman, this light woman, this redeemed woman, this loving woman, this miracle woman, what does she look like? Well, I can’t tell you. You’ll have to see for yourself.
I can tell you this, she’s beautiful. She’s beautiful through her scars, through her track-marks, through her pain, through her struggle, through her everything. How? How can she be this beautiful? Because finally, for the first time, she’s beautiful on the inside.
by Fiona Stockard | Dec 21, 2012 | Addiction Treatment, Recovery
Growing Up Religious
I never had any intention of growing up and becoming a drug addict. It just sort of happened. I saw things I’d been sheltered from my entire life. I did things I swore I’d never do.
I was born into a way of life where God, and the Bible, were more important than anything else. I grew up a Jehovah’s Witness with a loving family. I was raised with spiritual principals and a deep love for God. When I was around sixteen, I switched high schools. I ended up with friends who were Jehovah’s Witnesses and friends who weren’t. My family always warned me “bad associations spoil useful habits,” but I just heard another restriction being placed on my life. I started becoming resentful at my upbringing.
I never felt connected to the religion I was raised in. It was what I was supposed to do, not what I wanted to. I went through with the motions, trying to be part of a life that was so important to my family. I thought religion was the only option if I wanted God in my life. I was either a Jehovah’s Witness, or I was nothing. I chose nothing.
I felt being raised as a Jehovah’s Witness was the reason I didn’t fit in anywhere. I couldn’t celebrate Christmas. I couldn’t date the boys I wanted. I felt different than everyone else (turns out most addicts feel this way, but I didn’t know that at the time). I became angry at God.
How Dark It Is Before Dawn
Just like I was angry at God, I thought God was angry at me. I thought God was angry at me for smoking cigarettes, for drinking recreationally, for having premarital sex.
Being angry at God is a dangerous thing for an addict like me. I had this empty, and ever growing, hole in my chest. This space, as a child, was filled with God’s grace. This hole was painful, shameful, and unbearable.
The shame I experienced for dishonored my family only brought me to darker places. Soon, I was spending all day, everyday, trying to numb my feelings. I’d do anything to distract myself from the pain and anger I felt as soon as I opened my eyes each morning. I was exactly what my family never wanted me to be, a junkie. I didn’t care about anything besides getting high.
After a couple years of couch surfing, and the occasional dirty apartment, I moved back to my parent’s house. This quicker my spiral to rockbottom. I saw, everyday, just how badly I was living. Shame, guilt, and love for your family are powerful motivators. I finally confessed to my parents all of what was going on. They immediately went into “save our daughter” mode.
I was ninety pounds. All the life had left my eyes. I was a walking dead woman. It was horrible for my family to see me this way.
My Experience With a God of My Own Understanding
My family placed me in a treatment center, where my real work started. I was afraid to believe in God. I thought if I believed in God, I’d have to take responsibility for how bad of a person I was convinced I was. In treatment I was given a gift.
My therapist told me early on that I wasn’t restricted to believing only what my family did. This was the first time I’d ever heard those words. I always thought I was a Jehovah’s Witness, or nothing at all. For the first time in my life, I could choose a God of my own understanding.
It took me a few days to believe this was actually true! Soon, I got a sponsor and began working the twelve-steps of Alcoholics Anonymous. My sponsor also explained I was free to choose whatever conception of God I wanted.
I created my own God. This God was all about love and forgiveness. A lot of the concepts I used came from the religion I was raised in. However, I put my personal spin on God. I was raised with good morals and spiritual principals. Once I learned to accept my family’s way of life, I was free of all resentment towards the Jehovah’s Witness religion. In fact, I feel that being raised as a Jehovah’s Witness gave me some help while learning learning how to live God’s will. I was created by a spiritual being, but let myself get in my own way!
I’m no longer a Jehovah’s Witness, but I do have an amazing Higher Power. This Higher Power’s brought me from the darkest misery to the most beautiful happiness. I have a great relationship with my family. Today, we can talk about God and life without anyone leaving the room.
I was given the gift to have my own conception of God and my life’s been nothing but wonderful since!
