Back to home page Back to other stories   BEVERLY   Hi, my name is Beverly and I'm an alcoholic. I'm fifty-six years old. I was abused physically by my father and sexually by my brother, his friends, and others. My mother was a problem drinker. She drank at taverns. After work, my father would look for her, bring her home, and beat her. He would beat her with a strap while my brother and I watched. We would beg him to beat us instead. On some occasions I would go to the bars and find my mother. She would show me off to the people there. She would say, "This is my wonderful beautiful little daughter."   My parents were divorced when I was five years old. My father had custody of us. My older brother and I were very close. He watched out for me, nurtured me, and made sure that I had something to eat. We didn't have that much food at home. I remember a time when my brother and I went to a movie, he found a half-eaten box of popcorn for me.   While we lived with my dad, who had remarried, I asked my stepmother if I could call her mother. She said, "No!" I was very hurt. I was six or seven at the time. I felt that she didn't like or want us. My stepmother would tell my dad that we had done something wrong, and he would use the strap to beat us. We were often beaten for things we had not done. At school I would not want to change into the little gym outfits because I would have welts and black and blue marks from the beating the night before. I didn't want anyone to see these. Because my mom was Catholic, I would be sent to Sunday mass and other church activities. No one else in the family had to go. Sometimes I went and sometimes I didn't. If my dad thought that I had not gone, he would beat me. Holidays were difficult. We would spend some with my mother's family and some with my father's family. My uncles on my dad's side were heavy drinkers and often drunk. They would put their arms around me and make fun of me. I didn't like the way that they hugged or would smell of alcohol. I know now that all this was physical, sexual, emotional, mental, and spiritual abuse.   My real mom had no visitation rights. I recall one time that she had tried to visit. She had been drinking. My stepmother didn't want her to see us. She met mom at the door with a butcher knife and there was a violent scene. My mother was chased and there was a lot of screaming and yelling. She called my mom all kinds of names. I had still loved my mom.   From the time that I was very young, I would run away from home a lot and look for my mom. The neighborhoods where I lived were tough and I would often be afraid doing this. I'm amazed to this day that I am still alive. I would usually find mom in a tavern. She would clean me up, get me a new outfit, and introduce me to her friends. I thought that I would never be like her and that I would never drink. At fourteen I ran away again; this was about the twentieth time. I stayed with a friend for a couple of months. The newspaper had carried a story that said that I was kidnapped. I finally came home because the police were getting close to finding me. I didn't want anyone to get into trouble. From the police station I was taken to a juvenile detention center and then to a girl's state boarding school. From there I went to live with my mom. While living with my mom, her friend asked if I would drive to California with her to make a delivery. It was summer so that I didn't have to go to school. On the way, at a restaurant, we met some guys. We drank with them and I had a blackout. I awoke in bed with one of the men. I felt as if I was a bad person for this. The friend asked me not to tell mom. I was scared but I never told. It didn't go well living with my mom and I decided to leave.   I lied about my age and took a job as a nurse's aide. I roomed with three other young girls, and we started going to the bars. This is how I started drinking, the beginning of my alcoholism. I drank on the weekends, but shortly it became a daily pattern. I changed jobs, and before I knew it I was working in the downtown bars. I drank heavily and was promiscuous. I graduated to working as something called a twenty-six girl. It dealt with dice, and I don't remember how it was played. I was also a B-drinker, soliciting drinks. A little later I became a stripper, an exotic dancer, and a high priced call girl. I worked on Clemson Street, a low class area of town. It was all prostitutes, flop houses, and bars. In 1955 I was eighteen years old. I had a child. My boyfriend denied that she was his, but she looks like him. My daughter is the one who really suffered from my alcoholism. Eventually I found a woman who was very good with children. She had several children of her own. She took my daughter to live with her. I was on the streets and there were periods of time when I didn't go to see my daughter for months. I was busy doing my own thing. I drank. If someone bought me a drink, I was theirs. I would wake up in a flop house and not know where I was or what day it was. I'd have on the same clothes that I had been wearing for the past two weeks. I had no money; I spent it all on booze. I had blackouts, DTs, and encounters with the police. Once waking from a blackout in DTs the police were called and I was placed naked in a cell at the police station. I had even become a mistress for a time; I thought it would be a better way of life.   In 1960 I decided to live with a man whom I had known for about five years. I got away from the bars and stopped drinking. I vowed to drink only on two or three holidays a year. I did notice that when I drank I would get drunk. I settled down to "married" life. This was a very abusive relationship. It began with emotional and physical abuse. It was as if I had gotten out of the frying pan and into the fire, or worse. I was very fearful of him because he was very violent. George knew my background. He would tell me that I wasn't any good, nothing but a Clark Street whore. He would accuse me of "fooling around," even with his seventeen year old nephew. I never did any of that. I now had morals and it was a moral thing with me. Because I had been sexually abused, I feared for my daughters. When my oldest daughter was seven, my fear was realized. I came in the apartment and found George molesting her. I confronted him and he said, "You are seeing wrong. That's not what was happening." I lived in fear. Where could I go and what could I do with two young children? Who would believe me? I felt that I had to stay in the relationship at least until my baby was a little older. I couldn't go back to being a stripper or a hooker. How could I support the kids? I thought that I could go back to being a nurse's aide when the kids were older. I kept a constant watch and the children were never left alone with him. I even took the kids with me if I went to the bathroom. I did the best I could. After this, I didn't want anything to do with this man. I would be forced to have sexual relations with him, and my third daughter was conceived through rape. Again, I had to stay in the relationship because I didn't know what else to do.   I was surprised when my thirtieth birthday arrived. I hadn't thought that I would live that long. I became depressed and thoughts of dying or suicide were with me constantly. I worried that, if I died, there would be no one to take care of the kids. I didn't want my kids with this man or my mother. I could only think of one way to handle this. I would have to take their lives when I took my own. I knew that this was wrong. I had some faith in God from childhood. Every night for a month, I prayed to Him to forgive me and to help me. One morning when I awoke, I knew that I was forgiven. I felt like a new person. I looked the same in the mirror but I knew that I was different. This was my spiritual awakening. I knew that there truly was a God and He loved and cared for me.   When that happened, my life started to make a one hundred-eighty degree turn. I wanted out of the relationship with George. Although we were not married, I had been with him nine years. I went to see a priest and told him my story. When I told George where I had been, he accused me of having sex with the priest. George told me, "Priests don't know how to have sex and I'll show you how!" So, I was raped again. I left George. The priest sent me to a psychiatrist who, with my mother's support, decided that I was crazy, ordered shock treatments, and wanted to put me in an institution. I chose not to have the shock treatments or be institutionalized. Finally, with George telling me that things would be different, I married him in the Catholic church. This made the kids legitimate. George continuously attacked my new found faith. I had just discovered God and I was not going to let him take this away from me. After a year of spiritual abuse, I divorced George.   I went to work in a nursing home. I met a quadrapalegic there. He was loved by the entire staff. We became very close. Others saw that we had fallen in love before we did. I didn't know if I would be able to care for him, but we were both willing to try. We took each other out of the nursing home and into marriage. It was a marriage made in heaven. On our wedding night we both learned what love was all about. We came together in love and not lust. With Roger, I felt love through my whole being. I found how God expresses his love through another human being. Roger loved me into being. I was able to see myself through his eyes, a woman who I had not know. He let me find and become the woman that I am today. Roger knew about my past and forgave me. Because of him, I was able to forgive myself, too. I possessed love and forgiveness from God, another human being, and myself. I believe that God gave me the gifts of this man and the ability to care for him. I had fourteen wonderful years with Roger.   In the beginning of our marriage, when we went out to dinner I would take a few sips of wine. I would pray to not drink more and I wouldn't. I really feared that I would start drinking, leave Roger, and lose myself to my old lifestyle. I finally told Roger that I couldn't drink. He said, "Okay, don't drink." It was that easy.   I would go to daily mass. There I met a woman who was a recovering alcoholic in AA. I told her that from time to time that I had heard about AA. I didn't know anything about it. I thought that AA taught a person how to drink "normally." I never went because I had wanted to quit completely. I thanked her for the information and put it in the back of my mind.   I found that I had traded my addiction to alcohol for an addiction to food. I didn't have any skills to handle sobriety. I was very heavily into sweets. I had stashes of candy, brownies, and other sweets in the glove compartment of my car. My weight had become out of control. I went to OA. I began practicing the twelve steps of OA in my life. Through OA, I learned that the twelve steps originated in AA. I came to accept that I was an alcoholic and that AA could help me. I still didn't go to AA. One night I wanted to go to an OA meeting but there was not a meeting that night. I needed a meeting but I think that a part of it was pride. I had lost the weight and I was looking fine. The thought came to my mind to go to an AA meeting. I prayed and asked God if I was supposed to attend an AA meeting. At the least God caused me to think that I might need to make amends to AA for thinking that I was better than alcoholics. I called someone I knew and asked where I could find an AA meeting. I went to the meeting and received a First Step. As they told their stories, I relived mine. It was very touching. Within a week of this meeting, my parish was starting an AA meeting. I went to be supportive. I really thought that I was over and done with alcoholism. I know now that I was only beginning to learn about the disease. I am so grateful and thankful that I came to AA. AA literally saved my life.   My husband had taken ill and was hospitalized. My youngest daughter was in a mental hospital for drug addiction and a breakdown. I didn't know if my husband would live or die. I didn't know what would happen to my daughter. My daughter's activities had revived my fears from my old life. I was scared. I went to a gas station to buy cigarettes even though I had quit several years earlier. I wanted to drink, too. While I was there, my OA and AA came to mind. I knew that I needed a meeting right away. I went to the closest AA meeting and talked. The meeting was on the Eleventh Step. I sure needed that. Even though God was a strong part of my life, for those minutes at the gas station, I felt alone and abandoned. At the meeting there was a man who told my story. He helped me. I felt that I wasn't alone; I fit in here. All the feelings that I had through my life were similar to the other AA's feelings. I was at home. AA saved my life. I went to two AA meetings a day while they were both in the hospital. Without the meetings and in spite of my fear and hatred for my old lifestyle, I knew that I would have drunk. My husband and daughter recovered. I continued to go to AA. I sponsor people. I give back to the program what it has given me.   My husband died in 1987. He had become very ill and was hospitalized. I brought him home to die. He had a beautiful death. It was beautiful because he accepted it and was surrounded by love and gave love as he left. I have learned that death is not something to fear. After he died, I tried to figure out what the role of a widow should be. I didn't know. I was not unhappy, but I missed him terribly. I realized that we are all sisters and brothers to each other. I practice this type of spirituality in my life.   When I was fifty-one years old, I received my GED. I went back to school and earned a Certificate in Additions Studies. Now I am a full time alcohol and substance abuse counselor. This is all possible because of my spirituality and God working in my life. I know that there is a lot more out there for me. I'm learning more about myself every day.   I've been addicted to alcohol, pills (I popped some from time to time during my drinking), food, and my church. With Aa, I have balance in my life. I am a grateful alcoholic. I have a lot to share with people. I know that God's grace has helped me and it can help others. There is hope for everyone. God will help. Life can be lived joyous and free. I am not hopeless or fearful today. I turn my life and my will over to God. Thousands of miracles have happened in my life and they can happen in yours. Thanks