Sober Since: 07 / 16 / 2019
Sober For: 1 Years & 137 Days
What it was like?
My name’s Mel and I’m a 25 year-old recovering alcoholic. About a year and a half ago I was sitting in a bathtub on my third bottle of wine deliberating if I should kill myself. I knew the drinking wasn’t helping with my depression, but I couldn’t fathom going on without booze. A life without alcohol was no life at all. But neither was the life I was living. I physically and emotionally needed it to get me through my day. I’d wake up on Monday mornings shaking, feeble and nauseous, promising myself it would be the last time I’d feel that way. That I was done for good. Only to find myself walking to the liquor store after work for a couple more wine bottles. I could. Not. Stop. People have a stereotype for what an alcoholic looks like. I was young, outgoing, had a car, a stable job and a long-term boyfriend. So, I couldn’t be an alcoholic, right? The truth is, I was barely holding on. On the brink of losing it all. I woke up every morning and prayed something would kill me. Anything to stop the madness. Each day, I would walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth and start sobbing because I hated myself so deeply. Despised every inch. The only thing that calmed my nerves was more booze. That first sip and then into oblivion, where I didn’t hate myself, I just felt nothing. I wish I could say I stopped drinking after my suicidal ideation in the bathtub, but I continued. To infinitum.
My drinking took a hard turn when I came back to California after living abroad and lived a life of normalcy in San Francisco. I got a 9-5. Paid rent on time. Had a loving partner. Things were looking up. But you can’t run away from your disease. No matter where you travel in the world, you still take yourself and your disease with you. So, for the next two years, I woke up each day filled with regret and remorse. Barely got through my work day. Went to the liquor store, bought the wine I swore I wouldn’t purchase and drank until I passed out. And this continued. Until the day in the bathtub. When I knew I couldn’t keep going on the way I was going. So, I called my mom – who has 15 years of sobriety – and told her I didn’t feel “quite right.” The next day I was off to the hospital because the voices in my ear kept saying to just end it. I don’t remember what my BAC was at the hospital but it was enough to keep me there till mid-afternoon the next day. I came back from the hospital and drank as soon as I could. Tomorrow I would go to AA. So I did. For the first month I drank while attending meetings, lying to everyone. Until one night, with my head in the toilet, I decided I was done. I decided to live instead of die. I wasn’t going to kill myself, so that meant I had to stop drinking. The next day, I went to rehab. Stayed for 30 days and have been sober since. Now, I have absolutely no desire to drink. But I have so much more now than just a desire to not drink. Not much has changed externally in the past year and 3 months, but a hell of a lot has changed internally. Not only do I live a life without drugs and alcohol, but I live a life filled with honesty, kindness, happiness and integrity. I see the world in a completely different light. I’ve learned to love myself, when before I couldn’t stand to look at myself. I wake up each and every day excited to live my life, rain or shine. I have no reason to be excited, other than looking forward to living out another day. I am on a path to healing. I never thought I would be able to forgive myself for my past mistakes, but I am learning to. Even the really cringey mistakes, I tell myself “It’s ok, Mel. You are human. That was you when you were in your addiction. You are not the same as you were in your addiction.” I am human. Alcoholics are human. Addicts are human.
What it is like now?
Honestly, all I’ve ever wanted in life was to be loved and accepted. I have that now. Mainly because I love and accept myself. I am not a bad person because of my disease. Being at the gates of death has given me a new appreciation for life. People used to say to tell me they were grateful alcoholics when I was newly sober and I rolled my eyes each time. Who would be grateful for this monstrous disease? Now, I too, am a grateful alcoholic. Is every moment perfect bliss? No. But the program I use has given me tools to live a sober life worth actually living. I’ve learned to take accountability for my actions, show up, do my best, be honest, be impeccable with my word, treat others with kindness. Infinitum. I currently have a job I’m not only passionate about, but see as a lifelong career. I have a loving relationship with my partner, filled with honesty, kindness and respect. I have so many authentic relationships with the people I’ve met in sobriety, I cannot possibly count how many people I love and who love me. I’ve mended my relationships with people I thought I would never talk to again. I get to show up as a sober daughter, who gives instead of takes. Most importantly, I love myself. I don’t have to punish myself anymore. The things I used to hate the most, I’m learning to love. I’m the most awkward person I know! And it is absolutely wonderful. I word vomit. I’m clutsy. I’m Me. I get to re-discover who Mel is. What does she like? What makes her tick? Has she always laughed so deeply? What are her passions? I drank between the ages of 13-25. I get to make up for lost time now. What a gift. I’m forever grateful for this second opportunity to stay on this earth. Nothing, is worth dying over now. I wish I could hold that young suicidal woman in the bathtub, give her a big hug and promise her it’s going to be alright. Because it is. Everything is alright and that is all because of sobriety. If I had known there were other women out there struggling with the same issues, I think I would’ve gotten sober a lot sooner. I genuinely thought I was the only person who did horrendous things only when intoxicated, and because of this, I held on to more shame than I could fathom. Why couldn’t I just be normal when I drank? If you’re struggling with addiction, I want you to know you are so far from alone. I love you and I understand your pain. There is a way out, and it’s easier than you think. Not only do I not want to kill myself anymore, I am excited for my future. This is completely available to you. You are loved and worthy. You deserve all of the good things that come with sobriety. To infinitum.