For years, I swore I'd stop. But I couldn't.
I knew that it was killing me. Killing my marriage. Killing my relationships. Killing my career.
I knew that the next drink would lead to another and another and another and another... But I took it anyway.
I told myself. Over and over.
I lived for the next drink.
I timed my schedule around the next drink.
I hid my next drink.
I made a fool of myself for the next drink. And IN that next drink.
I lied about that drink - and every drink.
I was good at it. For decades a "functional alcoholic".
Until I ran head on into a van.
Thank God, no one was hurt except me.
And thank God, that was the day I stopped.
Not a single drink, not a single lie, not a single regret since then.
I got help. I got sober. I dug into the root issues of my life that drove me to hide in bottle after bottle.
Celebrate Recovery. Counseling. A patient, gracious and forgiving wife. God's grace.
9 years now.
Thank God.
I remember the day when I realized that the chains, that used to bind me directly to acting out, had actually broken.
One of the links in the very short connection between stress, opportunity, and drinking was broken, and I could live without drinking or thinking about drinking.
It takes work. But there is hope.
In my next blog, I'll discuss the role my faith played - both in my addiction and in my recovery.
