My memory for personal things is nothing like my memory for things in the political world. I’m kind of defective that way. I know that at some point beginning in around 2008 it became clear that I really had to stop drinking. I’d been a heavy drinker since I turned 21, but I really developed a problem after a pit bull nearly killed my dog and put in me in the hospital in 2002. I kept having a recurring nightmare of the attack in every gory detail, and the only way to prevent it was to drink heavily so I didn’t dream. I had a really serious case of PTSD but I didn’t seek any counseling for it.
Ironically, my solution to drinking too much was initially to stop drinking at all times except when it was time to wind down for sleep. So, for years I didn’t go to bars or drink at sports events or when I went out to eat. I did my best to hide my drinking from my family, and it was mostly invisible to them until it wasn’t, like someone needed me to wake up in the middle of the night. The nightmares had stopped years before, so I really had no reason to continue the night drinking, but I had become addicted and couldn’t sleep without booze.
At first, a couple of martinis would do the job, but soon it was a half a fifth of vodka every night and I didn’t even bother with the vermouth. One bottle every two days. And then, by 2014, I’d wake up and realize I’d drank three-quarters the night before and didn’t have enough to get me through the next night. This also coincided with the onset of physical problems, like falling down and being dysfunctionally hungover. My body had had enough and couldn’t take much more. I decided to quit a week before my 45th birthday. Of course, my family thought I had already quit.
And it was true, I had quit. My longest break was for six or eight months, something like that. It was a sustained period of time. But addicts are funny. I was going to a support group for parents of children with substance abuse problems, and that was helping to keep me sober. But one day the woman next to me told the group that her daughter, whose struggles we’d all been following, had overdosed in a fast food restroom while home visiting from rehab. That night on the way home, I stopped at a liquor store and began the final binge of my drinking life. Why did I react like that?
I just wanted to mask the pain I was feeling.
Later on, when my brother died after his own struggle with drinking, my first impulse was to go get drunk, but I didn’t do it. At that point, I was only 13 months sober but I already had the tools to cope.
One week after I quit drinking in 2014, one side of my body started to go numb and I drove myself to the emergency room. By the time I got there, I discovered that I couldn’t make my mouth form the words I was thinking. I was tested to see if I was having a stroke, but I was actually suffering from alcohol withdrawal. I spent the night of my 45th birthday in a rehab, and I spent another three weeks there until my insurance cut me off.
It took me a long time to reestablish trust with my family. I’d been hiding my drinking, after all, and suddenly they realized I was boozing hard enough to land myself in the hospital when I tried to quit.
But today I can proudly say that I’ve been sober for ten solid years. It’s a big accomplishment even if it seems pretty effortless at this point. Every anniversary, I write about getting sober, but I never before shared the embarrassing details. I did it this year because it’s a big milestone, and I hope my story can lend encouragement to people who know they need to quit alcohol or some other bad habit, and don’t have the will power or courage to get started.
I know quitting for some is harder than it was for me, but my example proves it can be done. My example also shows that it’s a good idea to start with some honesty so you don’t have to try to do it alone. Alcohol withdrawal can be dangerous but that doesn’t have to be an excuse to keep drinking. After all, drinking heavily is far more dangerous. And if you wait too long, it could be too late to repair the damage to your health, your family, or both.
My first thought on reaching my 10th Anniversary was that I should have some reward. I was like, “What? This is it? There’s nothing special?”
It’s a stupid thought, since life, health and a happy family is my reward, every day. But if you want to give me a reward, signing up for our podcasting Patreon would make me happy and grateful. This is in part because half the money will go to my podcasting partner Brendan who provides half the talent and all the editing.
Either way, it’s a big day for me. And if you’re someone who realizes it’s past time to quit, just know that you can get to 10 years sober, too.