Becoming Ready

My one previous attempt at sobriety happened after my first marriage broke up. I lived in the delusion that this marriage was going to fix me. It would fill up the emptiness I felt inside despite having all the goodies on the outside. We tried therapy, fire walking and expensive vacations. Nothing seemed to help. We drank a lot and argued a lot. When we split I concluded alcohol was somehow to blame.

I quit drinking as kind of an experiment. I could not admit I was an alcoholic, but I could admit my father was. So I joined Adult Children of Alcoholics. I went to one meeting a week and half-assed worked a few steps. I stayed sober for thirteen months. As the cloudiness in my head cleared my life improved. I got a new job and moved to San Diego. I picked up a drink almost as soon as I arrived.

The disease progressed and four years later I found myself in a much deeper bottom. I was forty seven years old, paralyzed by fear and right up against hopeless. All my “stuff” was gone. I was out of ideas. I still did not believe I was alcoholic, but when a therapist suggested treatment I signed up because I didn’t know what else to do. Apparently I was ready because I fell in love with Alcoholics Anonymous at my first meeting. I remember having the feeling that I had finally found my way home after a long, painful journey. Like it says in our book, my life took on new meaning. The emptiness was gone.

I consider my alcoholism a blessing. There’s no way I could have traveled from where I was twenty three years ago to where I am today without having a disease that was going to kill me unless I treated it spiritually.