Back to home page Back to other stories   MARY   My name is Mary, and I'm an alcoholic. I grew up in the Midwest in a family with an alcoholic father. Dad was intelligent with a heart of gold, and mom ran the family with an iron fist. My parents both drank, and drinks before dinner were common practice. For most of my life dad was a traveling salesman, so I didn't know how much he drank. He was gone all week, from Monday morning until Friday night. My mother was a master of the "silent treatment," and I now believe that this is where I developed my poor communication skills and my need to be controlling. My brother, sister, and I were born around my father's tenure in the Army during WW II. Mom believed in the value of a wife and mother staying home and my sister claims that she was born around bridge games. When I was eleven, we had just moved into a big new home when my father was fired from his job for alcoholism. It was years before we learned the reason. The whole family learned financial self reliance as my brother and I put ourselves through college while mom and dad ran a small business that eventually went bankrupt. From the outside we looked like a normal family, and no one would have guessed about the alcoholism.   I started drinking as a senior in college, when I was the "proper age." I didn't drink a lot at this point, just the normal college stuff. When I graduated from college, "cum laude" in History and English, I didn't want to teach. I applied to graduate school and was accepted with an assistantship. The ratio of men to women there was wonderfully in my favor. In high school and college, because of self-esteem issues and working hard for grades, I had not dated much. I met a man from the northeast, he was a year ahead of me. We would go to the bars and have a few beers. When he graduated, we were married and moved, so that he could start work. It was not a marriage made in heaven because we were from totally different backgrounds. I was a controlling person and John was a conciliator. I felt that we would adjust to this marriage, but it would be the way that I wanted him to adjust. He was a dreamer, and I was practical. John was not a drinker, but we did fall into the habit of having a couple of drinks before dinner. As John took a new job, we moved. I worked as a clerk typist for the same agency. I worked my way up to social worker and have been with them ever since. Our son was born five years after we were married, and although John was of the opinion that one child was enough, we had a daughter three years later. At the time that I was pregnant with my daughter, we were building a new house. John was no support during the pregnancy. As soon as she was born, he told me that he was leaving, and he did. Sitting in the new house with the two kids, who were always sick, was the beginning of my daily drinking. I deserved to drink. The thought never occurred to me that my acting like my mother, controlling, had driven John away.    After the divorce, we still didn't get along well , especially where the children were concerned. There were constant arguments about money. Months at a time would go by when John would not see the children. With full responsibility for the kids and nothing else to do, I started drinking more and more. I never needed an excuse to drink, only a time. I never drank during the day, but would start when I came home from work to cook dinner and take care of the kids. I would often think that I needed to cut back on my drinking. One time I measured my shot glass and found that it contained five tablespoons of whiskey. I figured that I could have five drinks with that amount of liquor. In the medical literature it had been reported that two ounces of alcohol a day was good for your heart. This didn't last long, and I went back to drinking more. I mixed beer and alcohol. I didn't drink much around other people, and would wait until I was home alone to drink. I don't think anyone knew how much I drank, but I still wouldn't describe my drinking as heavy until I moved here.    The year my father died was a hard year for me although mom had taken very good care of him, and that felt wonderful. I also married again this year. From "I do" to the annulment, it lasted about six months. The marriage cost me a lot financially, and became the major reason for the living arrangement that I still have today. When the place where I worked was being closed by the state, I found a job, with the same agency, in the suburbs of the state's largest city. A friend of mine that worked with me, Joan, also found a job with another agency in the same area. We decided to rent a house together, because of the cost of housing in the area. Her daughter, a year older than my son, was a problem from the beginning. I may have used that as an excuse to drink more. Over the next five years, my drinking became bad. We barely existed financially and finally, because it was so incredibly expensive to live here, bought a house together. Joan's daughter continued to be a terror and my drinking got worse. I still didn't drink during the day, but, from after work until I would collapse in bed, I drank.    I have only ever had one blackout. I fell picking up something from the closet floor and got a black eye. I played a lot of the games drinkers play. I went to different stores so that no one would know how much I drank or recognize me. I hid bottles in the garage. By now, I was drinking a quart in about two or three days. I would look at others and think how nice it would be if I didn't have to drink. I wanted a nice family life, and yet I was irritable all the time. Joan's daughter played Joan and me against each other, and I was particularly irritable with her. I wanted to move, get another job, or do something. One day it occurred to me that I couldn't change anything or do anything differently until I stopped drinking. I couldn't look for a job because I never knew how I would be when I arrived for the interview. I don't know how I was able to do school conferences. I couldn't remember what the teachers told me. My kids should have been poisoned by the lunches I made.    On Saturday, the weekend of my birthday, I called an old friend, Nancy, in another state. I was alone as Joan had taken the kids shopping for my birthday. I started to cry on the phone and was able to tell her that I was an alcoholic. She told me that it didn't matter and that she still loved me. She asked me what I was going to do about it. I told her that I would probably go somewhere for help. Joan asked if there was anything that she could do for me and if I would call her again and let her know how I was doing. Once I was able to tell someone, I knew what I had to do. Monday, a coworker, Marge, wanted to talk to me about getting a new job. We had a long conversation where I told her about my problem with alcohol and that I was going for help. She understood because there was an alcoholic in her family. That afternoon, I called a doctor and made an appointment. After dinner that night, I also told Joan that I was going for treatment for alcoholism. I'm not sure that she knew how big a problem alcohol was for me. I looked at her and she was crying. I'm not sure what she felt. Anyway, I went to the doctor and told him that I was an alcoholic, needed help, and needed it now. I had my last drink that night and went to the hospital for an alcohol treatment intake conference. They told me that I was a stage two alcoholic, middle stage, as there are three stages. The hospital person offered to help me find someone to watch my children while I did a twenty-eight day in-patient program, if I was not successful with the out-patient program. I guaranteed myself that I would make it in the outpatient program because I didn't want anyone else to take care of my kids. I have been sober ever since, and have never had a relapse. A requisite for out-patient program was one AA meeting a week.    When I walked into my first AA meeting in a neighboring town, I saw the husband of someone I knew. I didn't let it bother me. I went to that Monday meeting for a year. The following week I tried the Friday night meeting in my town. I saw someone who I had worked with for a couple of years. She looked at me and grinned. I was mortified, shrugged my shoulders, sat down, and have been going to that meeting ever since that night.    In the beginning I went to two AA meetings a week. The first week that I was in treatment I decided to do some of the things that I had never been able to do drinking. I began going to church, which I had not done since I was a child. Eventually I quit going to the Monday meeting when I joined the church choir. The more life filled with activities the less I thought about drinking. I could do things with the kids, help them with school activities, and follow my own interests because I was sober. I was dependable to myself and others.    My mother had a difficult time with my alcoholism. She was in the habit of calling once or twice a week. When I was in treatment and out every night, she was surprised. I finally called her and told her that I was in treatment for alcoholism. There was a long pause before I continued by telling her that I had reached a point where I couldn't deal with it any longer. A month later, when I went home for Easter, she hid her drink in the kitchen. She didn't want to be a bad influence on me. That family gathering was the roughest time that I had. I kept a cup of coffee in my hand and did it one minute at a time until the urge to drink would pass. Once I got past this, I had no problem. My brother is a practicing alcoholic, my mom still has her drinks before dinner, and I still give her whiskey for Christmas.    I have had the same job for twenty-five years. I've had a few illnesses during my drinking days, but today only an occasional cold. I've filled my life with activities, particularly church. I just served on a pastoral search committee. People respect me - it's amazing. Not too many people in the church know that I am an alcoholic. It is fun to joke with those that do know. My life is better. It's not great. I'm still in the same living arrangement. Joan and I have been through hell and back with her daughter. My children have had their ups and downs too. From broken bones and appendectomies to illnesses and injuries, I deal with it all as a single parent - SOBER. I don't think that I would be alive today if I had kept drinking. I think that I stopped drinking just about the time my body told me that it was hurting. I have not worked the steps with the greatest of ease. Someday I will do that. I don't devote my entire life to AA, but I continue to go.    Two years ago I was able to stop smoking. I approached it the same way I did drinking. I told myself that I couldn't do it anymore. I wanted to be a non-smoker, and I am. I got over that hurdle too. That's about it. Thanks!