15 Years

Fifteen years ago, on October 19, I had my last drink. I had left Key West FL and was in the Miami airport waiting for a connecting flight. Final destination, Buffalo NY and "Daddy's house". I was sitting at a bar in the airport, and figured that since I'm gonna quit, I'll have a private toast to my new life. So I ordered a REAL Madras. A real one, as opposed to MY version. Normal people drink a shot of vodka with orange juice and a splash of cranberry juice, the orange juice being the main ingredient. My version was a splash of orange juice, a splash of cranberry juice and the rest vodka. I was adding the orange and cranberry just for apperance's sake. But I was quitting that day, so I wanted to at least pretend that I could drink only one, and a normal one at that.

Looking back, I'm surprised I didn't go out with a bang; go on yet another bender, with the blackouts and anti-social behavior. Instead, I went out with a whimper, which, come to think of it, is exactly how I felt. Besides - I had just recently had one of those blackout-thingys, and I just didn't feel up to the task that day.

I was beat. Licked. I had tried everything imaginable to be able to drink like normal people, but nothing worked. I had also tried quitting on my own and that didn't work. I didn't realize it then, but I was on the verge of surrendering. Giving up the fight. I was desperate, paralyzed with fear, hopeless.

But I was going home to Daddy. I was grateful for that, because at that point I wasn't sure if he'd let me go home. By that time he wasn't talking to me very much. Little did he know that he was doing the best that he could have done for an alcoholic like me. "Detach" and "Tough Love". There really are names for that kind of stuff.

Almost immediately upon arriving home, I got busy trying to find some help. I didn't enter into a rehab, because I felt that I couldn't "miss out on life for a month". HAH! WHAT life??? I found where "meetings" were held and started going to those.

What I heard was amazing! The people there were telling my story! I couldn't imagine that other people felt like me! I thought I was the only one! From the beginning, I felt that I had come home.

And here I am, fifteen years later, a different woman. I'm not the hopeless, frightened, desperate person I was when I walked through those meeting doors. I've changed. My perspective has changed. I have recovered "from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body".

I suppose I could write about how it happened, but I think I'll leave that for future posts...