I Am A Quitter...

On November 1, 2009 I had my last drink of alcohol.

It is hard to believe that five years have slipped by without even the slightest desire to have another drink. For close to ten years prior there were very few days that passed without alcohol being a part of my routine. It didn't start out that way. In the beginning it was fun. Then it became a coping mechanism. By the end it was a way of life. No one starts out to be an alcoholic. It's just something that quietly slips into your life and reassures you that everything is fine. But I can tell you unequivocally that nothing was fine. In fact, everything was about as far from fine as one can get before you start the journey back around the world. But that bottle of liquid will convince you otherwise.

Like I said, it started out as fun. I didn't really start drinking until I was twenty-one. I had just come off of a really bad year that included a break-up. At the time I enjoyed having my freedom again but as time wore on I found myself growing increasingly lonely. Being a social person I really enjoyed going out which included drinking. It was fun. It was social. It was becoming my thing. But in a few months it started morphing into something else.

Over the course of a year my family faced four losses that all seemed to come from nowhere. Being in my early twenties and not being mature enough to deal with so much in such a small amount of time I sought alternate ways to deal. This "dealing" came to a head when I was twenty-two and was facing being arrested for an alcohol related incident. I actually recognized the potential for a problem at this point and volunteered to attend AA meetings to avoid arrest. I actually stayed sober for close to four months then life hit me again.  A double kick in the gut as a very deep depression hit me and my girlfriend broke up with me. I started self-medicating. After I got through the worst of the depression things seemed to get better. At least I convinced myself it had.

A couple years later I was living by myself for the first time and alcohol was now a pass time. I'd come home from work, have a couple beers and relax. A couple beers soon turned into a six pack. After a year of living alone I took in a roommate. Then a another one six months later. Now I had live in drinking buddies. Whereas when I was living alone I drank to pass the time now it was a challenge. I couldn't let someone else drink more than me. It was my house and dammit no one was going to come into my house and drink more than me. This mentality carried on until I got married at twenty-nine.

Once I was married drinking became a way to try and forget what a huge mistake I had made. It also became the means by which I wallowed in self loathing and feeling like my life was over now that I was in my thirties. I spun out of control through my early thirties, trying desperately to recapture just a small part of my twenties and to maybe drink myself to death in the process. Actually, I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to drink myself to death. I was okay with it. I had accepted it. It was just the way it was going to be.

From thirty to thirty-five I could probably count on both my hands how many days I didn't drink. Needless to say my marriage ended after a few years. I can't blame her for leaving. I was not pleasant to be around at that time even if I wasn't drinking. Although my alcoholism wasn't the sole reason for the marriage to fail it was definitely a big contributing factor. So now I found myself in my mid-thirties and single again. I was looking forward to this. Hell, I had longed for this for most of the time I was married. But things had changed in the years I had been off the market. Now I was five years older, forty pounds heavier and had a near fatal drinking problem. But maybe worst of all, I knew all of these things. And knowing that I had nothing to give just added to the problem.

Over the next year and a half I sank like a rock. Many things happened over that time but the one thing that really set things in motion for me to hit rock bottom was the death of my friend Bristow. He was sick for a couple years and he had been told that his life would be shortened because of his sickness but none of us thought it would happen so quickly. It came as a shock from the blue and set in motion a perfect storm in my life that would lead to one faithful night.

Losing Bristow at such a young age sat on top of another bout with depression that was as bad as any I had ever experienced. Add in woman trouble and a sudden on set of anxiety attacks and I found myself sitting at home alone with the lights off night after night. The computer, my roommate's dog and a case of beer were the only things I felt I could count on anymore. After a couple weeks of this behavior I decided it was time. In October of 2009 I was planning my exit strategy. In my depressed state I had convinced myself that I was terminally sick. Not based on any actual medical diagnosis but just from my own sense of impending doom. It was true that I was having some very unnatural pains in my side and issues with digestion. Later I would find out that my drinking was causing this and have not had any problems since I stopped.

Since I was "sick" I started planning out how to end it all. I was not going to go out with tubes and needles sticking out of me. But I couldn't go out with a bunch of questions lingering. I was going to leave a note that explained it all. Except I was having trouble writing the note. I found myself standing in the shower a lot going over the note in my head and crying uncontrollably. And no one knew this. My roommate was either working or with her boyfriend at night so I was at home alone most of the time. I later told her that she had no idea just how in danger she was of coming home and finding me dead. This was not hyperbole.

Halloween was fast approaching and I was spinning further and further out of control but I didn't usually go out on Halloween because the amateur drinkers go out that night and screw everything up for the rest of us. I had been invited to a party and as the night wore on I just couldn't sit at home any longer. So I drove to the party and stayed until around 2 a.m. I didn't have anything to drink that night. I just sat in the kitchen and talked to a friend who was in the medical profession. I told him a lot of what was going on with me but not everything. He suggested I should go to the doctor about the anxiety attacks. I took this into consideration but knew I wouldn't be around to take the advice. On the way home that night I was nearly hit by a drunk driver who came over into my lane as they passed me.

November 1st was a Sunday. I spent Sundays at Red Door East with various regulars but this night not that many were there. Most were home recovering from the night before but my friend Tony was there. We sat for hours pounding down beer and talking. When I finally got to the point I was ready to leave I did something I never did. I called my roommate to come get me. Usually I would just get in my car and drive home. I had driven drunk so many times that it was second nature by now. But this night I did the right thing. Mave came and got me and on the way home I told her I was sick. She made a joke about what disease I might have and I began to cry. I told her everything that was happening. Including my plans. I spilled it all out that night. My reasons for wanting to end it, my plan for how and the fact that the only thing stopping me was my ten year old cousin who I couldn't just leave without giving a reason why. I cried more that night than I probably ever had before. Eventually I fell asleep from exhaustion.

The next morning I woke up with a terrible headache and a sense of dread. I knew what was coming. I knew she was going to talk to my family. And she did. As well as one of my best friends. He called me later that day and we had dinner that night. We talked and I assured him I wasn't going to do anything stupid. The next day I had a long talk with my dad. I was dreading this talk the most. Mainly it was because I had never talked about my drinking with my family. That day I admitted I had a problem. I had known this for some time. A year earlier I had gotten completely loaded up the night before Thanksgiving and had no idea how I got home. I almost missed the family dinner I was so hung over. I vowed to stop then but I only lasted a few days. Now it was do or die, literally.

I remember waking up on November 2nd and having a different feeling than the day before. It felt like a change had occurred. I felt different. I felt like I could do this. Over the next few weeks I settled into a routine of work, the gym and as much sleep as I could get. I slept more during those first couple months of sobriety than I had slept in years. I really believe I was making up for the past fifteen years of not sleeping. I also went to the doctor and after a barrage of tests was prescribed something for anxiety. I changed my diet and shed fifteen pounds. By the time I was ninety days sober I looked like a completely different person. And it wasn't just my physical appearance that changed, my attitude toward  the world made a complete 180 degree turn. I loved myself for the first time ever. Just the way I was.

Ninety days turned to six months and before I hit one year of sobriety I met the love of my life. Sylvia and I were married seven months later and on December 16, 2013 our son was born. In four short years I went from planning suicide to being married and having a son. It is truly amazing how life can turn around in a small amount of time. If you had asked me on November 1, 2009 where I would be in five years I would have answered, "dead." Now I can't imagine my life before. It all seems like a bad dream and I would rather forget that person but I can't. Luckily my wife and kids will never know that person and never see me in that state. That is the greatest gift I can give them.

Today I am a teetotaler. When I say I haven't had alcohol in five years I mean I have not had a drop in that time. And my life is better for it. I would not be writing this today if I had not stopped drinking. Just because I stopped it does not mean that I am a expert but there are people who are. They are professionals and can help. The best advice I can give is have a support system. About a week after my realization I contacted my closest friends and told them all what was going on in my life. Between my friends and family I had the best support system that I cold have asked for. Some people find that support in out-patient treatment and others in programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. Whatever suits your needs is what works. If I can get sober then anyone can. It won't always be easy but the end result is worth it.