I haven’t always loved alcohol. The first 13 years of my life, I was blissfully unaware of it. Now, at 45, my life is plagued by addiction.
Not just alcohol addiction, but food addiction. The alcohol addiction is the issue that is slam bam in my face, though. It’s what’s making my life fall apart, systematically, like the old game, “Mousetrap.” I let go of the ball and it affects everything and everyone in my life. And not in a good way.
It’s Tuesday, February 17th today. I am very grateful to be home sitting in my jammies, in my small, quiet house, with my three dogs at my feet. Glad to be free. Glad to be comfortable.
I woke up in a shaky, wide eyed state of shock on Valentine’s night. Two police officers were banging on my window. An extremely bright flashlight was shining in my face. I was parked in the Walgreens parking lot, passed out, fast asleep in my car. That tends to attract the police. Especially on Valentine’s night.
I spent the night in the Bedford City Correctional Facility. On a mat, on the cold cement floor, in an orange jumpsuit. Before I passed out in the cell, I looked down and thought, “Orange is the new black, right?” Heh. Not so funny when I woke up with a splitting headache at 6am, with drool dripping out of my mouth.
I was humiliated. I had never been arrested before. I did a lot of thinking that day, laying on that disgustingly dirty floor looking up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling.
Had it really come to this? Oh yes it had. When will my husband bail me out? … Oh no…. What if he is still angry with me from last night, and just leaves me in here? …. We had gotten into a fight the night before. About what? I couldn’t remember. I could never remember what we fought about when I was drunk. Only that I was adamant that he WAS WRONG and BEING TERRIBLY UNFAIR about whatever he was saying to me. He went to bed, tired of dealing with my unmanageable drunk ass, and I was angry. I grabbed my keys and my purse, dead set on getting a hotel room. I would show him!! He was so wrong!
Ummmm…. Wait. What was he wrong about? Hmmm.. I was thinking, thinking… not sure. But he was definitely wrong!
How did I end up at Walgreens? I still don’t know.
2 pm rolled around, and when he bailed me out, I was buzzed through the heavy metal door, and as it slammed behind me, I ran into his arms. “I’m so sorry! I was so scared you wouldn’t come to get me! ” and I cried…. And cried…He asked if I was okay and he did look like he felt sorry for me. It was a relief. I had already done enough beating up on myself and surprised I didn’t have self inflicted fist prints on my face. Now… Just humiliated…
The talk in the car was the same old talk. I needed to get help. Before this incident though, the talks were always like this: “Your drinking has spiraled out of control! You need to control your drinking. Why can you just have two or three, and then just stop?”
I will, I promise.
You know there had been plenty of times when we would go out and have several drinks, and then come home and have several more. We would watch a movie, I would cook, and we’d have really fun raunchy sex. We wouldn’t fight. Did I remember what happened when I woke up? What movie did we watch? I don’t know. Does it matter?
- Yes. I’ve started to think, that really, yes, when you can’t remember half of your life, it does matter.
- What about the sex? I barely remember it being fun. I did let my inhibitions go. But na, I can’t really remember.
- And then there is always that familiar anxious feeling. Waking up, and thinking, what did I do? I check my texts for drunk texting. I check my FB for drunk posting. Did I make any phone calls?
Bad feelings. Nawing feelings. Feelings of shame. And guilt.
I have a 15 year old daughter who lives with her dad, and stays with me on the weekends. She’s a good kid. The kind of kid that makes all A’s and B’s. The kind of kid that is so sweet, and loving, and brutally honest, and crazy funny, that she melts your heart. I came home from jail that day, and she avoided me. She did say one thing though. “Mom, I love you. But I’m so disappointed in you.” And then she had her dad come and pick her up.
I felt stabbed in the heart.
It’s time to make a change.