Recovery

QOTD: Describe a decision you made in the past that helped you learn or grow.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was full of life and joy, surrounded by love and smiles. Despite having an unconventional upbringing, the girl never looked at her life as less than or wanting. Her mom loved and supported her, her siblings were annoying but a big part of her world, and despite wondering why the relationship with her father was so strained, she lived life to the fullest daily.

Fast forward to the girl’s formative years, where she was learning, growing, and incredibly impressionable. The young lady thought she was mature for her age, when in reality, she was broken and masking it with control.

Enter alcohol. The swift burn down her throat made her feel strong, as if bearing the sting of the pain could translate to the rest of her life. Then came the looseness, the floating. The body she was in became weightless, removing her insecurities and replacing them with a newfound bravery. What was this magic?

Thirteen. She was only thirteen.

Years passed with youthful binges now and again. Alcohol was more of an afterthought than a necessity. The girl graduated from high school, participated in a college-age program through her church, and then made the big decision to move away from home.

Enter ex-husband. They had a whirlwind romance, aided in part by the smooth swallow of a dry white wine. He was twelve years her senior, but when their daughter came along, and then a few years later, their son, age didn’t matter. He was a giver of the greatest gift she’d ever received. Holding her babies in her arms was where she found peace. Her heart burst with love for them.

But this was not a happy ending fairytale. Blackout nights, angry words spewed like a firestorm, and a power struggle she was sure to lose. No one could have told her then that a bloodied lip and a head full of anxiety would be the best thing to happen for their demise.

Enter foster parents. Because when one neglects their children, they deserve to lose them until they can prove they can take care of them. She fought. She won. Not only did she get her children back in the shortest possible time, but she also made lifelong friends with the foster family. She learned patience and perseverance, love and responsibility.

Taking her children “home” (even if “home” at the time was a women’s shelter while they waited for their apartment) was the best feeling in the world. No drink could ever compare to the reunion of the “three musketeers.”

Fast forward a few years. Envision a worn-out single mom working, caring for her kiddos, and attending college full-time. She knew better, but the only thing that took the edge off after the kids fell asleep was a glass of red wine. The burgundy liquid was comfort and peace.

Enter new relationship. Have you ever heard of the trope “brother’s best friend”? That is fitting in her story, because she met him while visiting her brother. Their eyes locked, conversation flowed, and she was hooked. Watching him color with her son or play with her daughter filled her heart with joy.

April 9th, 2017.

The girl and the boy were seemingly perfect together. From the outside looking in, it seemed to be a perfect little blended family. But you know what they say: all is not always as it appears.

She was angry. The girl never learned how to cope with her resentments or her fear of abandonment. Instead, she masked again, but this time with poison. Because of this, she took it out on her new love. He stayed. He was patient. He proved to her he wasn’t going anywhere.

July 14th, 2018. They wed.

Enter pregnancy loss. Many. Too many angels in heaven to count. The last was their son. At the 20-week appointment, they were informed he had passed in her womb at only 14 weeks. Tears. Many tears shed, and dreams lost. There was “no reason,” but she blamed herself.

She graduated from college. He got a promotion. They made things work while silently drowning. She drank, and he drank. They were there for the kids, attending all the functions and hosting all the parties, but they were losing control of the finances and the unknown battle with addiction.

Slowly, things started to click for the girl. She was no longer a girl, and she had an addiction to alcohol. She was irresponsible, a terrible role model for her children, and a hazard to herself and others around her. Knowing didn’t fix the issue. Instead, she lied to herself. “If I only drink one glass of wine…” or “If I switch from wine to hard cider…”

Enter a very important person passing away, being diagnosed with a chronic illness, and following that up closely with COVID-19. Any semblance of understanding and acceptance was thrown out the window the day the world shut down. Her grandma was gone. Her health (and dream) was gone. Why not wake up with a mimosa while helping your kids get on Zoom? No shame in starting at noon with the harder stuff, right? “It’s five o’clock somewhere…”

She was in the thick of it. “Deep into that darkness peering…”

Fast forward a few more years. Things were bad. Her family was still together, but they seemed to be held together with Elmer’s glue and the sticky residue that clings to a collection of spent beer cans.

Enter THE BIG MOVE.

“I promise when we move, I will stop drinking.” She repeated this mantra to her kids and to herself.

She didn’t.

Two months. They had lived in Washington for two months. Every night, she sat on the floor wanting the helplessness to end. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She didn’t want to BE anymore.

Enter God. “Get up, little girl.”

She got up. She admitted she needed help. She got help.

August 4th, 2023. Her first day sober.

MY first day sober.

As of writing this, I have 2 years, 8 months, and 8 days sober.

982 days of freedom.

I am she, and she is me.

In answer to the question of the day, you had to know the past before I could tell you the decision because it’s a decision I make daily.

Just for today.

One day at a time.

I have learned so much from my choice to get sober. I learned that admitting I was powerless gave me power and that entering into a life of recovery is the most selfishly selfless thing one can do.

I have learned that I have a part in everything and that I do not need to be a victim of circumstances outside my control (or even those within my control). I have learned that “With God, all things are possible,” but that I also need my Recovery Tribe. We celebrate the good, commiserate in the bad, and walk through the ugly together to come out healthy and healed on the other side.

Recovery is a daily journey. It is a decision I will always be grateful that I made and make every single day.

I am the mom my kids always deserved. I am in a healthy marriage that is thriving as we go through sobriety together. I have forgiven people from my past, learned to take responsibility for my actions and reactions, and have formed a deep and meaningful relationship with God.

I am thankful!

I am grateful!

I AM BLESSED!

I love you, bye!