By: Emily Rivers
The notion of giving up simply isn’t an option for me anymore. A single lapse in judgment, a moment of succumbing to self-pity, can strip away everything meaningful in my life. To an outsider, my existence might appear dismal; I find myself living paycheck to paycheck in a cramped apartment with my three children. It’s not uncommon for me to worry about how I’ll fill my gas tank or provide meals for my family. My credit score hovers around a dismal 450, and I am navigating the aftermath of a divorce. I often rely on my elderly mother for financial support, along with help around the house. At 39 years old, I am just starting my first career, struggling to make ends meet one day at a time, yet I am filled with gratitude.
No one wishes to experience the profound emotional and physical anguish that I endured. My narrative is a heart-wrenching one. Every stereotype surrounding alcoholic mothers rings true in my life. I hit rock bottom, drowning in vodka, just to quell the tremors and nausea. My final drink led me to a blackout drive at 10 a.m., having vanished from my job without explanation. My time with my children was court-mandated and supervised. They still loved me, a fact I struggle to fathom. They held onto hope, seeing the person I could become hidden beneath the facade of a drunken smile.
I was a river of broken promises and hollow apologies. I missed celebrations and often found myself unconscious in front of my kids. Alcoholism convinced me that I could manage a few drinks to stave off withdrawal, lying to me about control. This insidious disease consumed my mind, body, and spirit, ensnaring my family and innocent children in its grasp. I danced with this disease for far too long, believing its deceptions and forgiving its betrayals.
I had become unemployable, unreliable, and, I thought, unlovable. Alcohol was everything to me—my companion and adversary, my source of courage and fear, my entertainment, and my solace. It took precedence over my children, relationships, health, and sanity. I desperately wished to stop drinking, yet simultaneously craved the intoxication that coursed through my veins.
In my last months of drinking, an ominous sense that my end was approaching began to dawn on me. I entered liquor stores, gripped by a fear of impending doom. Each morning, I would assess the wreckage of my life. This marked the beginning of my descent; the disease was waning, and I no longer felt invincible. I bought a gallon of vodka, fully aware that I would consume every drop that night. It terrified me, signaling my final surrender.
February 3, 2014, became my pivotal moment. I didn’t want to die; I realized I could lose my oldest daughter for good. I could see it in her eyes, the way she was beginning to distance herself from me. That Monday morning, for the first time in my adult life, I sensed a glimmer of hope that there could be a better way to live.
I entered detox, followed by a six-month inpatient rehabilitation program located an hour and a half away from my children. Intensive therapy and Alcoholics Anonymous meetings became my new routine. Gradually, I began to appreciate aspects of myself that I had long neglected. I learned to engage in life without alcohol—I danced, laughed, cried, and felt emotions I had spent years numbing. I committed to a new lifestyle, vowing to remain sober for today.
I have caused immense pain to those I love, a burden I cannot erase. Today, I choose not to inflict pain on them. My children waited for me, and I am determined to make their patience worthwhile. Presently, my financial situation or credit score holds no significance; what matters is my sobriety, which I now celebrate as my greatest achievement. I embrace acceptance, self-awareness, and gratitude, including a thankfulness for my darkest days, as they shaped who I am today.
A flicker of hope on a drunken Monday morning transformed my life forever. Thanks to the support of Alcoholics Anonymous, my growing self-love, and the unwavering encouragement from my family, I have maintained 1,347 days of sobriety, one moment at a time. I have never felt happier.
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In summary, embracing recovery from alcoholism reshapes not only one’s life but also the lives of loved ones. The journey may be fraught with challenges, but the rewards of sobriety—self-awareness, acceptance, and love—are immeasurable.