Farewell, But Not Goodbye - Part I

     Ready or not, here I go. I have officially entered back into my life in New York. This decision was met with quite a bit of controversy. Was I ready? Was this choice made rashly, rampant with old addict thinking? I believed it was coming from a healthy place, but it took some convincing to get others on board.

     I will start off by saying that my stay in Indianapolis was one of the most rewarding, eye opening experiences I have ever had. I cannot even begin to describe the depth of my gratitude towards every single person that got me to Fairbanks, as well as all of the new faces who have touched me along the way. I am humbled, I am changed, I have my life back - Thank You.
     Nearing what I felt would be an ideal time to transition back to New York, I was suddenly filled with doubts that had not been there before. Sitting in the rooms of Indianapolis AA, I felt at home. I was happy, undoubtedly lounging on that pink cloud that so many people refer to as the oasis for the newcomer. I had the feeling that I could do anything, I felt blissful, colors looked brighter, my love for the program and the people in it was soaring, nothing could go wrong - that is the effect of the pink cloud. I could have stayed. In fact, the thought of staying was extremely enticing. I could continue on with this new life that I had developed in sobriety, in the very place that it all began. It could be a fresh start, with fresh people who are all on a similar quest. But then the question blindsided me - Am I afraid of going back? There were, undoubtedly, many things to fear. Although I had the beginnings of a New York network in place, I was to be entering back into my usual people, places and things. I would be going back to the apartment where I had begun creating masterful hiding places. I would be reclaiming my two part-time jobs, I would be going to functions where alcohol was present, I would be starting rehearsal. A pretty average set of activities in the day and the life of my alcohol addiction. Before my thoughts spun out of control, I abruptly had to remind myself that if I let faith take over, there would be no room for those fears, even if it were simply the faith in myself to carry on with my new found life. What was there really to be afraid of? In that question, there is also fear of the answer - What if the only thing to fear is actually myself - Had I not betrayed myself through my thoughts and actions multiple times before? The addictive thought patterns are a slippery slope once they find the opportunity to seep into a moment of unguarded bliss.
     In hopes of pushing forward and staving off these thoughts, I began my work on the dreaded Fourth Step. This is the step in which people are given war stories of imminent relapse, along with ideas of not being able to face all that you are, all that you have done, all that you have become. This is the inventory step.

 Step Four:

"Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves."

 

     In this step, your are asked to delve deep into your resentments, your fears, your sexual conduct, and the people you have harmed.

 

     "Resentment is the 'number one' offender. It destroys more alcoholics than anything else. From it stem all forms of spiritual disease, for we have been not only mentally and physically ill, we have been spiritually sick."...

     "Notice that the word 'Fear' is bracketed... This short word somehow touches about every aspect of our lives. It was an evil and corroding thread; the fabric of our existence was shot through with it. It set in motion trains of circumstances which brought us misfortune we felt we didn't deserve."...

     "Now about Sex... We reviewed our own conduct over the years past. Where had we been selfish, dishonest, or inconsiderate? Whom had we hurt? Did we unjustifiably arouse jealousy, suspicion or bitterness? Where were we at fault, what should we have done instead?"...

     "We must be willing to make amends where we have done Harm, provided that we do not bring about still more harm in so doing."

- "How It Works", Chapter 5 in the Big Book

 

     Once this list is made, your are led on to the Fifth Step.

 

Step Five:

"Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs."

 

     It is customary to discuss this inventory with your sponsor, the trusted person who has led you through the previous steps. With my time coming to a close in Indiana, I wanted to be sure to get through this freeing step before I left the nest, so to speak. This process took five hours. Five hours of laying out my past, struggling through many hurtful things, both to myself and others, all while trying to keep my composure. And yet, I wonder, was I thorough enough? Or was this simply a rushed effort in hopes of cleansing myself before I went back into the grit of real life?

 

"But they had not learned enough of humility, fearlessness and honesty, in the sense we find it necessary, until they told someone else all their life story.

More than most people, the alcoholic leads a double life. He is very much the actor. To the outer world he presents his stage character. This is the one he likes his fellows to see. He wants to enjoy a certain reputation, but knows in his heart he doesn't deserve it."

- "Into Action", Chapter 6 in the Big Book

 

     Certainly, it seemed, I had not yet had enough. Two days later, I went missing... or at least, that's how it was perceived by those around me. You see, those are my consequences. Because I am an addict, I will most certainly display addict behaviors at some point, and cease to be trusted. People couldn't trust me in addiction, so when, exactly, can I be trusted? I am more apt to have to deal with the brunt of miscommunications, even in sobriety. That is my burden; the anxieties I have caused through prior faults. My final days in Indianapolis dove me into a headlong spin that brought me closer to wanting to pick up a drink than any other time in my recovery. And once those thoughts creep in, you better hold on tight.

 

...

 

~Victoria

 

 

 

 

 

 



On How To Return Home

     Staring at an empty vodka bottle as it floats mockingly at the bottom of the cavernous Greyhound bus toilet, I recoil. The irony of this moment does not go unnoticed by me. Life has some amazing humor if you really take the time to enjoy it. I laugh and take it as a lesson - if I had continued down the path of drink, my life would have ended up much like this bottle and it's final destination. With this, I start my journey back to New York.

     Going home - It's a rough road to tread when you've been told that you need to change your people, places, and things. Every way you turn, you are warned that failure is certain if you do not rid your life of the things that would trigger you to return to the despair of a wild bender. So, what do you do if your favorite drunken spot was your own apartment? Before panic was able to set in, I reminded myself of a statement recently gifted to me; "It is not your people places and things that you must change - it is yourself". You have no control over anything but you. Your actions. Your words. The situations you choose to put yourself in. Only you can be accountable to yourself.

     In describing the scenario that was briefly calling me back, I will say that it was one with the word "trigger" running rampantly all over it. I had a callback. Here is where the danger lies - being that I am extremely hard on myself, and this particular audition was of the utmost importance to me, a number of detrimental scenarios could have occurred. When I give a bad audition, I am crushed, I beat myself up, I berate my self worth, I drink. Alternately, when I give a phenomenal audition, I rejoice, I am confident, I celebrate... I drink. For an alcoholic, any time is the right time to drink. I would make any and every excuse to feel that warm enticing liquid course through my body. But, this is where my blessings saved me. I happen to be blessed with a life full of extremely supportive, loving people, people who have met my shortcomings without judgement, and have shared in my journey with pride. I was greeted with thrilled surprise from friends who were unaware of my brief return. With these people, among the enchanting atmosphere of a musical audition, I was home. Positive support is essential to successful and long lasting sobriety. It is important to remember that your friends, family, loved ones cannot keep you sober. But their support, along with Alcoholics Anonymous, are the life rafts which are key to one who is drowning in booze.

     This trip had brought upon another lesson that has been a driving force in my recovery - learning to let it go. All I can do is my best, and leave the rest of it up to God, Fate, the Universe, and whomever else's control my life is actually under. I can only hope that booking this show is part of the current plan for me. This concept is particularly difficult for me to accept, as I thrive on control. I love to micromanage every detail in my life. When I have absolutely no control over an outcome beyond the best presentation I have put forward, my mind runs wild with possible scenarios. My imagination becomes a veritable carnival, full of distorted truths and over exaggerated horrors, coupled with overblown and impossible whimsy. This is a dangerous place to play, the mind. It's obsessions are what drew me down the dark path of active alcoholism in the first place. I have learned that I must stay out of it. Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be. If anything, I have a restored confidence in my audition process, as I no longer have poison coursing through my veins, playing tug of war with my insides. Auditioning sober is a wonderful thing. There is still hope, and I must never give up on that.

     With my business finished, an anticipatory glow about me, it was time to focus on my initial transition from the safety of the program in Indianapolis, to my more permanent network in New York. In the five meetings I dove into within two days, I quickly found that the rooms in which I would soon spend much of my time among fellow alcoholics were wonderfully welcoming, full of smiling faces embracing my new presence, a plethora of incredible people. Being accepted by complete strangers who share in your struggle is amazing and humbling. This is a network in which, no matter where you go, you can find in it a safe haven and new friends that will selflessly help guide you on your journey. This is quite an amazing phenomenon, when you compare the behaviors of many of us in addiction to our new found recovery selves. We are like children discovering our joy for life, happily living for the good of others without want for anything in return. This is a freedom reinvented, which was lost long ago at the bottom of a bottle.

     Sad to see my successful adventure come to a close, I assured the new people in my life that I would continue my growth with them soon enough. Old friends know that I am indeed returning, hopefully to work with them as fellow entertainers and theatre professionals. I have assured myself that it will be okay. The fear is gone. There are no monsters waiting for me in any of my hiding places - what was there had already been drunk. Liquor did not stay long in my sight. But now, I can look upon it with disgust, remorseful of the destruction it had lain at my feet, yet secure in knowing that I am in a better place. I now know that I can safely return home.

~Victoria

 

The Force of Spirituality in Recovery

     Out of breath. Running and scared. I was being followed...
    
      I had drunk myself to a special level of oblivion that evening, with a bad case of the "woe is me's". We alcoholics are quite good at wallowing in this state. I had, on this particular night, made the infinitely intelligent decision to drown my sorrows by bar hopping. In New York City. Alone. Sheer brilliance. I found a swanky night club and began the usual alcohol induced dance with death. At a point, I had built up enough liquid courage to ask the lounge singer how she went about getting gigs, relaying the fact that I was a singer as well. This is where the drinks became a free-flowing affair. There seemed to often be free alcohol anywhere that I ventured alone. After some shop talk bonding, the eventual pouring out of my life story led me to a weepy life-loathing puddle. Her solution to this? Ask the owner to get me another drink, of course! More alcohol would solve the problem.
     Once I had cried myself out, and assured everyone that I would be okay to get home on my own, I stumbled out of the restaurant....to a rather shady looking pizzeria. Where I proceeded to have a beer. I had been drinking wine and hard liquor all night, so it only made sense to move to a less potent beverage as I was winding down. When I was getting ready to leave, a man nearby was positive that one beer was not sufficient, that my drunken slurring self surely needed more booze. My danger flag was waving wildly at this point, so I excused myself. He didn't take the hint. It was one in the morning, and I was being followed. Being that my faculties weren't completely about me, I can't even say if I had any amount of control over my panic, or the direction I was heading. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a young couple quickly approached me; "Oh, there you are! Where have you been?" These were complete strangers that I was incredibly grateful to see. The man dropped back immediately, most likely looking for an easier target. They explained to me that they had seen the situation from across the street, and could tell that I was inebriated and needed help. I am so thankful for their kindness in walking me safely to my train. Surely, someone was watching over me that evening. In these moments, I believe. But there are many times that I am unsure of what I am believing in.

     Let go and let God. What does this mean? There are infinite possibilities. I have so many questions about this part of the process of recovery, and am still a young student in many ways. Alcoholics Anonymous is built upon the belief that in order to remain sober, you must completely hand your life over to the care of a Higher Power as it is understood by you.

Step Three:

"Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him."

 

     In fact, in order to work this and the subsequent steps, you must follow this principle. I was lost and a little nervous. This can be a daunting request for someone who is unsure where they stand. "How will I work this? Do I believe in God? Do I believe in a form of Him that suits my needs?... Is this a cult?" This aspect of the program admittedly scared me.  So many questions reaching towards the very foundation of my existence. Suddenly, one of the most controversial topics in life had been forced to the forefront of my recovery. I have thankfully always been a very spiritual person. I believe that we are all connected by some force that is bigger than any of us, but the question is, by what? Or who? Every addict has selfishly led themselves to believe that they are in fact the Creator of their world, the center of their universe, that they can be given credit for every event in their lives, especially the positive ones.

 

"Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole show; is forever trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the rest of the players in his own way."

- "How It Works", Chapter 5 in the Big Book

 

     What right do I have to say that there is no God? How could I possibly know for sure? I had, through certain prejudices, believed that my knowledge of science and logic were the whole truth of life. But who was I to judge their beliefs?  Who were they to judge mine?

 

"We talked of intolerance, while we were intolerant ourselves. We missed the reality and the beauty of the forest because we were diverted by the ugliness of some of its trees."

- "We Agnostics", Chapter 4 in the Big Book

 

     Is it not possible that faith can heal? This program is hugely about honesty, open mindedness, and willingness. In order to be fully willing, I would be forced to set aside many of my old beliefs, and adopt a newly open point of view. I would have to broaden my spirituality and accept the fact that my way wasn't working - why not be open to this way?

 

"We found that as soon as we were able to lay aside prejudice and express even a willingness to believe in a Power greater than ourselves, we commenced to get results, even though it was impossible for any of us to fully define or comprehend that Power..."

-"We Agnostics"

 

     After some apprehension and confusion, I was informed that Alcoholics Anonymous is a spiritual program, not a religious one, and that my Higher Power could be anything I wanted it to be. The common favorite example around here is a doorknob. Though, I'm willing to bet that this is mostly an urban legend. I somehow doubt that anyone has ever gotten far with a doorknob by their side.

 

"...we also perceived that faith of some kind, if only in A.A. itself, is possible to anyone. These conclusions did not require action; they required only acceptance."

-From Step Three of the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions

 



     The bottom line is, no one can quit drinking by themselves. At least, not if they want any lasting results. We need outside influence while trudging this road of recovery. We need to set aside our pride, and accept help from our network, our sponsors, and our Higher Power, whomever they may be. I've since discovered a sense of calm that I have not felt before. A realization that I no longer need to have complete control over every detail of my life. I can let it go! I can trust. Trust that my life will turn out the way it was meant to be, all the while, free from any mind altering substances which would turn me down a dark path that I do not deserve.  In these moments of chaos, when all else fails, I can simply take a moment of quiet meditation to recite the Serenity Prayer.

 

"Step Three opens the door...In all times of emotional disturbance or indecision, we can pause, ask for quiet, and in the stillness simply say: 'God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

 

     Whatever your beliefs, simply remember that we are all in this beautiful life together.

 

~Victoria

 

 

"God could and would if He were sought."

 

 



 

 

    

The Resentment Balloon

     Resentment kills slowly. Drinking poison and expecting the other person to die - that is resentment. There is no room for it in healthy recovery. It is something that I still struggle with, and I am definitely not alone in that struggle.

     At a recent Open Discussion meeting, the topic of resentment was brought to the table. By the time it came my turn to share, I had already worked myself up beyond what was a necessary reaction. I know a thing or two about this topic and the harm it can do when held onto. I began to speak, obviously agitated the entire time, even though I was speaking of the effects of a relationship that had ended over five years ago. My voice wavered with anger, the nervous laughter and inherent need to make a mockery of the whole situation in full force defense. I was a ball of writhing emotions while depicting the past - a place where one should never live. As I finished with a rigid sigh, I was handed a note from a friend. It was a suggestion that they were once given, now being passed on to me. I was to write a letter to my resentment, tie it to a balloon, and watch it literally leave my body. Just like that, release it to the world. The sheer brilliance of it's simplicity intrigued me, and I knew that I had to go forward with it.

    

     You had poisoned me. You killed my self worth, tested my spirit to the breaking point. You told me that no one would ever love me, that no one would put up with my shit. So, how could I possibly even think of leaving you? Without you, I would be nothing. Useless. Worthless. I, among other women were "silly little animals", put on this earth for your amusement. I hate that I resent you. I hate that your emotional damage and abuse have caused me to stare in blackouts at the one I love, not realizing that he is NOT you. My emotional attacker. This resentment poisons me. Your hands around my neck haunt my nightmares still. I MUST RELEASE IT. I must forgive, or it will slowly kill me. Your admission stays with me - "I like attempting to manipulate you. You're smarter than the others I've been with in the past. It makes the game harder for me. That excites me."

 

     Your sickness seeped into me without my knowing it. I became sick too, because that is how I thought it should be between us, what my life was to become. I roamed, lost within myself, a ragged shell of the happy girl I once was. You took a piece of my innocence with your lies and manipulations, and I allowed it without a second thought. It was never yours to take.

 

     With this, I release your toxicity. I no longer give power to the icy grip you once used to hold me. I am a beautiful bloom, slowly repairing the broken petals you had ravaged. My heart is free, because it must be in order to live the life that I know I deserve. A life without hating what you have done to me. I could say that you made me drink, that you are to blame. But, you never forced me. I am an alcoholic. That is my burden. With this, I release your misogynistic oppression. May you never harm another woman again, emotionally, spiritually, or physically. I realize you did this because you are sick. For that, I have empathy, but I cannot condone your actions. I blame your sickness for the ways you treated me. With that, I can forgive, though I will never forget. I release your words. I release your stare. I release the black piece of my heart that shriveled under your wing. With this, I release you.

 

 

     I hope that all of you can find the strength to release your resentments.

Your happiness is absolutely worth it.

 

~Victoria

 

 

 

 

 

 

Faith, Courage, Empowerment: My Evolution

     Alcoholism does not define me. I am an artist, I am an animal lover, I am a friend, I am an intellectual, I am a singer. Yes, I am an alcoholic, but I am so much more complex than this dark diagnosis. Every single day, I introduce myself - "Hi, my name is Victoria. I am an alcoholic." This is what is required of us, perhaps to keep us humble and remind us why we are here. It can be somewhat disconcerting at times. "Is this all I am in the eyes of the world?". I have come to realize that in that moment, for that hour, yes. I am forced to focus on that one piece of myself that I have failed to control, for I cannot. These moments of reflection in which I question my very purpose, who I am at my core, leads to a surprising form of empowerment.

     There is suddenly freedom. Freedom in knowing that There Is A Solution:

"Here and there, once in a while, alcoholics have had what are called vital spiritual experiences. To me these occurrences are phenomena. They appear to be in the nature of huge emotional displacements and rearrangements. Ideas, emotions, and attitudes which were once the guiding forces of the lives of these men are suddenly cast to one side, and a completely new set of conceptions and motives begin to dominate them." - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous

     I had indeed felt this shift. In discovering a deeper spirituality, one that I had once been wary of, I found more confidence, a more happy, joyous, and free me. Truly, fear and faith cannot reside in the same space at the same time. This feeling is indescribable - I am independent, full of love for those around me, full of giving thoughts and actions - a wide chasm has opened up to be filled with all of the wonderful things of my new destiny.

     Consequently, in this reflection, I am forced to examine what I could have lost through my self destruction. Particularly my voice. Singing is my passion. THAT is what ultimately defines me. I may be in recovery in Indiana, but my heart is on a stage somewhere in New York. Not only am I grieving the loss of my friend Alcohol, I am also going through serious performing withdrawal. Imagine two types of "using", or, withdrawal dreams. They are a form of grief. A conflicting image of self. In one type,  I get to drink for free, and am not required to collect a start over token at the following day's meeting, or admit to my transgression. Still, I wake up feeling incredible remorse. This is why I do share these dreams. I am not alone in this. Now, pair this with dreams of joyously singing and acting, performing at the top of my game, being constantly praised. I wake up with a hole so deep that my heart aches. And how would I have filled that void in the past? Alcohol, of course. I am in turmoil. But, the beauty of it is, I am reminded that I could have rendered myself useless in my career of choice. If I were to continue on with a life run by alcohol, my voice, my joy, my passion would eventually be destroyed. I cannot think in "ifs". Those leave room for the cunning alcohol to slip in and whisper, "Don't worry...you can still sing, can't you? Go ahead. Let me fill you." This is a substance so sinister that it leads you to believe that you don't have a problem. That you need it to survive.

     I want to share something with you. This is a role within a show that will always have a very special place in my heart. This is a sampling of my Marian Paroo in "The Music Man".

 

 

 

     If I had lost this ability, it would have taken a miracle to pull me from the depths of despair to follow. I would have been sucked into an unending emptiness that would leave my eyes in a cold vacant daze. That is, until something divine stepped in. I thank God every day that I was able to stop, with His help, before it got to that point of insanity...

 

Step Two:

 

"Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."

 

     I am so thankful for this new found courage to trudge the rewarding path of recovery. My soul rejoices daily. I am truly empowered.

 

~Victoria

 





The Cost of Addiction

     $50,000... This is the approximate figure that I have essentially blown on alcohol over a ten year period. This, to me, is a staggering amount of money, wasted on something that was slowly killing me. There are so many other ways that I could have spent that money. I could have given to charity. I could have invested in classes. I could have even invested in myself and had substantial savings. Instead, I chose poison.
    
     Since I was primarily an at home drinker, I figured that I must be saving money with my cheap booze in a box. Only the good stuff on special occasions. I rationalized at times, that it wouldn't put my account too much in the hole if I took myself out every once in a while. I loved drinking alone. I could choose the places with the cheapest drinks while daydreaming of how I wished my life to be. This also ensured that no one would monitor how much I drank. It was between me and the bartender.
     I had lost track of the many costs of my habit. Though the heavy drinking didn't start until about six years ago, the losses quickly piled up. Unfortunately, those monetary displacements are not the only ruins I am now struggling to rebuild. Addiction had nearly completely destroyed my self esteem. I forgot how to love myself. In active addiction, the alcohol made me feel confident, sexy, powerful - that was, before I crashed. I would allow it to take me to soaring social heights, but the next morning, without fail, I would feel like less than a person. Without much recollection of what I had done or said the night before, I felt betrayed by my own mind. If I couldn't even trust myself, who could I actually trust? Spiraling quickly downward, I began to isolate. I was ashamed of what I had become. I didn't want anyone to have access to the Mr. Hyde that I held deep within me, waiting to strike after that inevitable one drink too many. I began pushing others away, making excuses such as, "No one ever cared to get to know the real me, so I won't be missed." What I should have realized was, in order to get to know the real me, others would have been forced to scale a wine soaked wall.
     The loneliness that encompassed me was unlike anything I wish to experience again. There were times I felt falsely free and independent. I was frugal and could buy my own copious amounts of drink. But that was the only thing I ever bought. I commended myself on having the willpower to stay out of the department stores. This was nothing but pure rationalization - the only reason I had this "willpower" was due to the fact that there was nothing left after I had spent it all on something that would make me feel good for only a fleeting moment. This liquid which is cunning, baffling, and powerful, has cost me a huge piece of my inner strength, as my respect of self had quickly plummeted.
    

      Thankfully, there was light at the end of the tunnel. I became acquainted with     

Step One:

"We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable."

     Now, no one wants to admit that they are powerless in their own lives, or that they are unable to manage an aspect that many people can. But, I soon found in "The Doctor's Opinion" in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, that there are five types of alcoholics. I fell in the category of the "types entirely normal in every respect except in the effect alcohol has upon them. They are often able, intelligent, friendly people."  This fit me. I felt that I was capable. My addiction hadn't cost me my job, my family, or my apartment...YET. That is the key word here, as you always have to be watching for those yets. If I had continued down the path of inebriation, the yets would have inevitably become reality.
 
     I am currently working diligently on rebuilding and replacing my losses, whether they be monetary, emotional, or spiritual.  I am feeling more empowered every day, and it feels wonderful. I am done counting the costs of my addiction. I am much happier counting my blessings!

~Victoria

 

 

The Journey Begins

     I was blindsided, tumbled into an overwhelming whirlwind of emotions. Forced to face the truths I had for so long denied, I found myself in the middle of a circle, seemingly trapped by those that I loved. I was at my intervention. My name is Victoria. I am an alcoholic. More importantly, I am a recovering alcoholic...

     Breath caught in my throat, I heaved, holding back anguished sobs. How could they betray me like this?! They have tricked me, enticing me with relief from the insurmountable emotional turmoil I had been quickly acquiring in New York. Where was the vacation I was promised? Thoughts raced, escape plans tossed around in my head...it was no use. I was being held against my will in order to endure, through letters, all of the distress and anxiety I had forced upon my loved ones over the years.

Tom - Boyfriend

"Tori, you know how important honesty is to myself, us and our relationship. Out of my love for you, and because I want the best for you, I want to be honest about what my worries and concerns are. I'm afraid to go out with you socially, for what you might become. When you drink, it always starts out OK, but the rate at which you consume far exceeds any normal drinking. You can't stop. Soon you lose touch with yourself, and others around you. You are constantly looking for the next drink. Even if it's not the same thing you were drinking. You recklessly mix."

 

Dave - Dad

"Tori, I want you to know what this is doing to me personally. I think about you and your drinking almost every day. One of the most important jobs of a father is to protect his little girl, and at times I feel that I'm failing you here. I'm so concerned about what this alcohol is doing to you. Will it destroy your talents and that beautiful voice of yours?"

 

Heather - Sister

"Out of my love for you, Tori, it's important for me to tell you how worried and concerned I am. I am worried about the way your drinking changes you. It turns a happy, loving person into someone who is angry, spiteful, and dangerous. I know this person that you turn into is not you, and I know that acting this way makes you sad."

 

 

     What had I done? I never imagined that I had affected people this deeply. I drank to numb myself from my own pain, and was sure that the only person I was hurting was myself. How wrong I was. You see, that is the thing about addiction. It makes you selfish. Alcoholism is an all consuming and baffling disease that pushes you into an insane cycle, where the mental obsession for a drink and the allergic reaction your body has to that drink run round and round until you have completely lost yourself in it. That is, unless you have a moment of clarity that brings you to recovery. Or, in my case, loved ones that cart you over to rehab while you are having the fit of a lifetime.

 

     So began what was to be my new life in recovery. On February 25th at Fairbanks Recovery Center in Indianapolis, Indiana, I had finally found the answer to a question I had often asked myself in shame - "What is WRONG WITH ME?" The answer is, absolutely nothing. I have a disease that approximately 18 million Americans suffer from, one that only about 10% seek recovery for. I would soon learn that it was not as simple as just saying NO. I would have to delve into the psychological root of why I drank. This was not something I could do on my own. I needed help. Help from a sponsor, my peers who were going through similar struggles, and most importantly, from a force that is stronger than any of us.

 

     I would like to open up my journey to any inquisitive minds. Whether you have wondered if you suffer from the same thing, are baffled by a loved one who suffers, or are just curious, I hope that I can shed some light through my mistakes and discoveries.

 
~Victoria