My Name Is Mindy, And This Is My Story
My story isn’t unique. In fact, I’ve found that my story is more common than it seems. Struggles with alcohol without the messy consequences that come with severe alcohol addiction. I was never pulled over for drinking and driving. No DUI or DWI. No jail. Never fired because of my drinking. No major health problems. I suffered, but my suffering was hidden from the outside world.
My childhood was far from normal, but it wasn’t plagued with abuse and suffering. From the age of 10, my sister and I were raised by our dad. Our mom was absent for much of that time as she struggled with alcohol and drug abuse. Dad made sure we went to church every Sunday and were involved in youth group. Looking back, it was this church upbringing that kept me from turning to alcohol sooner. My only rebellious moment in high school was during my senior year. A friend snuck some alcohol into the bowling alley, and I had a few sips. What kept me from experimenting more was the thought of disappointing my dad. I took on the “mother” role, the eldest “responsible” daughter, the role model, the “hero”.
But, being the “hero” had its consequences. I grew to become co-dependent, relying on other’s approval for my own happiness. I was the eternal helper/ fixer and neglected my own needs to please others. A common trait in children who have one or more parents who are addicted to drugs, alcohol, or both.
Unresolved trauma was also present in my life. Not receiving the nurturing I needed from my mom during the critical years between birth and age 2. My parents divorce when I was 9 or 10. Experiencing bullying from 4th grade till 11th or 12th grade. A stressed-out father who was trying to care for two young girls while holding down a full-time job. Like I said, not an abusive home life, but not perfect either.
Looking back today, it’s no surprise I turned to alcohol as a coping mechanism. I didn’t learn how to cope with my emotions growing up. Always be the strong one, carry the family through our crises. To make matters worse, I was so invested in my role as hero that I didn’t know how to accept help. My dad, bless his heart, tried to take me to a counselor when I was a kid. Someone we knew from church. But I was so closed off, I had learned early on to compartmentalize everything, that I couldn’t open up.
Up until I turned 21 I stayed away from alcohol for the most part. I turned 21 while I was working as a camp counselor at a Lutheran summer camp. That night will live in my memory for as long as I live because it was the first time I felt like I belonged. I didn’t feel like an outcast that night. As Bill W. said, “I had arrived”.
Over the following year and a half, my drinking was sporadic. I graduated from college in 2004 and started a full-time job soon after. Drinking was a time to experience what I wasn’t allowed before I turned 21.
Unfortunately, the death of my mom in 2005 sent me down a dark spiral. I didn’t know how to cope with this sudden loss. She had had surgery one week, and the following week she was gone. A blood clot went from her leg to her heart. She died of a heart attack on St. Patrick’s Day, 2005. What made this loss more difficult was the fact that I was trying to reconnect with her the week before she died.
It was during this time that I lost faith in god and tried to drown my pain in alcohol. Every night, drinking for oblivion, or at least numbness so I wouldn’t have to feel anymore. I struggled with suicidal ideation. Never getting close enough to end my life, but close enough. During the day I shoved down my pain far enough to get through the work day. I hid my pain so no one would know there was a chink in my armor.
Over time, the pain and grief subsided, and my drinking slowed. But when I did drink, I couldn’t control how much. I remember many instances of drinking at a bar, or with friends, and telling myself I would only have “a few”. But, as you can guess, that never panned out. A few turned into many, with hours passing as fast as minutes, and wondering yet again where all my money went. Or where the time went. It was like time traveling, without knowing that you are time traveling.
Over the course of about 2 years my drinking became more frequent. Stress at work became a reason to drink. Breaking up with my boyfriend, another reason. A blown out of proportion fight with my dad and step-mom became another reason. But what was lying below the surface was a broken little girl who needed someone to love her and fix her. All the unresolved trauma from my past was below the surface, and I drank to bury it and not feel.
Finally, in November of 2013, I reached out for help. I did an alcohol evaluation and was told I had Alcohol Use Disorder (AUD) — moderate bordering on severe. This diagnosis was surprising, but in a way not so surprising. By that time, I was experiencing black outs often. I would wake in the morning with slight tremors which I brushed off as low blood sugar. I would wake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. And every attempt to quit drinking on my own was unsuccessful. My underlying trauma and insecurity were bottled inside me. I’ve since learned that this kept me from stopping drinking.
January 16th, 2014 is my sobriety date, and the day I started IOP — Intensive Out Patient treatment. It was the best decision I’ve ever made for myself. I learned a lot about myself and AUD during my time in IOP and OP II — Out Patient treatment. I had the support I needed, structure, and a safe way to meet new people. On the nights I didn’t have treatment, I attended AA meetings. It was during those meetings that I met my sponsor, Bill.
Yes, I went the unconventional route and picked a male sponsor. Generally, this is frowned upon, for many reasons. But for me, it worked. Still does today. Now, I can already hear the question, “what?”, so allow me to explain.
I had serious trust issues with people, especially women. I was (and still am) a self-sufficient woman who likes to do things on my own, so I didn’t need help working the steps. And to give you an idea of our age gap, at one point I was 32 while he was 64. So, he’s not a “sponsor” in the way you’d normally think of that word. He’s a mentor, a spiritual guide, and a sounding board when I have a problem.
It was exactly what I needed at the time. Someone to show me how to live life on life’s terms. Someone to give me permission to take care of myself and drop the hero/ perfectionist/ savior to all role. Someone who was there for me. And he hardly talked about himself, except to relate a similar hardship or experience he’d had.
The last 6 ½ years haven’t always been rainbows and unicorns, because life is rarely perfect. During my first year of sobriety, two friends relapsed within a month of each other. I had a non-life-threatening medical scare. And, I white knuckled my way through many urges to drink. When I was about 4 months away from 2 years sober, I hit my sober bottom. Suicidal ideation stayed with me off and on, and I reached a breaking point.
I am grateful I went to a meeting on that dark night. I heard the words I needed to hear to get me through that darkness. My two cats also helped a lot, by giving me something to live for. I couldn’t imagine losing them, or them losing me.
I no longer attend AA or Al-Anon meetings today. Not because they didn’t work, but because they did. It was through AA, Al-Anon, and a lot of personal work on healing my trauma that I’m sober today. As I said, I’m a self-sufficient woman. I have the gift of working through my problems internally. When I cannot work something out on my own, I reach out to Bill, a friend, or a professional.
Last year, I was having difficulty working through a few painful things, and went to a counselor for help. She diagnosed me with PTSD with Depersonalization and OCD. Getting those diagnoses were a blessing because I no longer felt crazy. There was a legitimate reason for why I was feeling the way I was.
I’m happier today than I’ve been for a long time. Life still isn’t perfect, and I still have my dark days. But my dark days are easier to manage now that I’m not drinking. I have a new relationship with a Higher Power that I call the Universe, which leads me on the path I need to go. And I’ve learned how to feel the feels and cope with life’s challenges.
So, I will leave you with this: Do what works for you. If AA isn’t right for you, try something else. But at the very least, try. You owe it to yourself to have a better life. If you need to, and are able, go to counselling or therapy. A friend of mine said everyone should go to therapy because it helps so much. They can help you work through problems you didn’t know you had. At least, my counselor did.
Find a mentor/ sponsor/ spiritual guide. Someone you can trust, who will give you the space you need to heal and grow. And finally, enjoy life to the fullest. We have been given a second chance to live for a reason. Don’t waste a minute of it.
Blessed be,
Mindy F.
