RoadBiker_Spike (Jill)
THE
BIGGEST COMPETITION OF MY LIFE
How did I wind up
here? How in the hell does an athletic woman who was
brought up in a perfectly loving family of moderate to
upper-income status and who has a very public, successful
career end up an alcoholic?
Hi. My
name is Jill, and I’m an alcoholic. The first time I said
those words 6 months ago, I was petrified. I was certain by
speaking those words out loud, I would lose all my friends,
all my family, my husband -- the whole shooting match.
Alcoholism is for losers, right? Only low-life's and scum
“allow” themselves to become alcoholics.
My God,
what I have learned in these 7 months to prove all of the
above statements to be absolutely and utterly false.
How did
this all start? I’m not quite sure. I did all the normal
experimental drinking in high school on special occasions
like the prom, graduation, etc. When I got out of high
school, the drinking intensified as I turned legal drinking
age. It’s what all my friends were doing, and I didn’t want
to be left out of all the fun. Girl’s just want to have fun,
right? I was all about having fun.
I guess
nearly every sporting event I participated in after high
school involved alcohol. Beer at the softball game, beer at
the outdoor sand volleyball court, alcohol available at the
baseball, football and basketball games I loved to attend.
As I think about it, not many aspects of my life involved
non-drinking activities. I love to camp, which also always
involves sitting around the fire and – you guessed it –
drinking. Let’s go skiing and then have a few drinks
afterwards. Let’s go diving in some tropical climate and
drink fruity rum drinks.
When I
was 38, I got married and soon after moved west to
California with my husband where we had no family or
friends. But what the heck! We are adventurous and love
skiing and the mountains and camping and hiking and the
ocean. It was a perfect place for us – so we thought. Then I
discovered wine country and grew a deep love and affection
for wine.
About
18 months ago, I began to have the feeling something was
wrong with me and my drinking. I wasn’t very much “fun”
anymore, I was incredibly moody, and I was constantly
walking around in a fog. I had helped myself become
emotionally numb so that I wouldn’t miss the company of my
family and my friends I had left behind.
My
normal routine had become coming home, opening a bottle of
wine, and pouring glass after glass until my husband got
home. Well, he never gets home from work until about 7:30 or
8 p.m., so a lot of drinking can be accomplished in those 2
or 2.5 hours. He’d get home, I’d be moody or half in the
bag, eat a little dinner and then pass out on the couch.
That has been my life pretty much for the last year. What
fun, huh?
My
total wake-up call which happened two weeks ago was about as
ugly as I can imagine. I don’t remember much, but I will
share with you what I do remember.
My
husband was out of town for the week, and it was Memorial
Day weekend. I took a nice long run that Saturday morning
with the dog, and then came back and entertained the
neighbor kids at the pool, where I decided to have a couple
of beers. When I went back home a couple hours later, I
decided to crack open a bottle of wine and watch a movie. I
don’t remember the end of that movie. I also don’t remember
anything else that happened until I “came to” about 2:30
a.m. on the couch with a bottle in my hand that had spilled
all over me and the couch. Not only that, but the right side
of my head was killing me. Not a hangover kind of pain, but
physical pain. I went to the mirror to discover that I had a
huge lump on my forehead and a black eye.
This is what I have
pieced together of what happened that night.
At some
point in the evening, I went outside with the dog and
started yelling at some woman who was mad at me for having
the dog off-leash. During the fiasco, my little neighbor
friend, Tina (who is 13 years old)heard me yelling and came
out and saw all this and I guess had to help me back in the
house. Not, however, before I fell flat on my face and
nearly killed myself from the impact. At some point, I must
have been in the hot tub, because I left the cover open. How
I didn’t drown, I have no idea.
The
next morning, I was horrified. I couldn’t piece anything
together, and when Tina was talking to me about the previous
nights events, I wanted to cry right there in front of her.
I tried to take a nap, but the horror and fear of what had
happened the night before gripped me so badly I could not
rest. I had to stop drinking. I didn’t really care that I
had nearly killed myself, I cared that I had made a total
ass of myself in front of a young girl who idolizes me. My
heart was broken and I had to admit my problem. Without my
husband there, I promptly walked over to Tina’s Mom, Robin,
who is a dear friend of mine, and admitted through my tears
that I was an alcoholic.
To my
shock, she hugged and told me she loved me and would help me
in any way she could to help me get better.
The
next hurdle was telling my husband. I picked him up at
midnight at the airport that same Monday night, and though
it was late and the timing less than perfect, I had to get
it off my chest then and there, and I did. I told the one
person I love most that I was an alcoholic. He held my
hand, and told me he loved me and that he was proud of me
for coming to this realization. He would be by my side every
step of the way.
The
next major hurdle was going to my first AA meeting. Oh my
God, I had to sit in a room full of drunks and losers and
admit I was just like them. I think that day I had talked
myself in and out of going to that first meeting 50 or more
times. Even 15 minutes before the meeting was to begin, I
was calling one of my friends so that she would talk me into
going. I finally just jumped in the car and plowed ahead.
When I arrived, there were several questionable looking men
standing outside of the door. One guy said to me, “Are you
looking for a bunch of drunks?” I smiled and said yes. From
that moment on, I was o.k. The group setting was a bit scary
and there were a lot of AA rituals I was unfamiliar with,
but the speaker that night was awesome. The speaker, Ron,
talked about his long battle with alcoholism, and how he
struggled and struggled for his sobriety. Today, he has been
sober 28 years! He talked about his drinking, and how it
totally ruined his career, but that he drank so that he
would “feel comfortable in his own skin.” Oh, how I could
totally relate to that statement.
While I
didn’t lose my job, I didn’t lose my husband, I didn’t kill
someone in a car accident, I didn’t have to take a drink in
every morning to get through the day, I still truly believe
all of that would have happened if I continued to drink.
Blackouts had become all too common of an occurrence when I
drank, and the thought that I could have gotten in my car
and killed someone frightens the hell out of me. I could
never live with myself if I harmed another person.
I have
just begun my road to sobriety, but I am happy. I’m not
saying it is easy, but I love what I am learning to become –
a person who can look in the mirror and love myself for
having the guts to face my problem head on.
I would
be remiss to say I will be able to do this on my own. It is
the love of God, the AA program, and my family and friends
that have guided me and supported me thus far, and will
guide me until the day I die. Today it is my greatest hope
that one day I will be able to help someone else fight their
way back to a sober life full of love, laughter and
happiness.
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