On May 7th, I celebrated 4 years of continuous sobriety.

I can still recall when I relapsed within 48 hours of leaving my 3rd treatment for alcoholism.

During the last few mornings of this particular relapse, I remember how I spent each morning on my hands and knees in front of the toilet vomiting followed by the cold sweats. Sometimes I would vomit so violently that I thought my eyeballs would pop out of my head. I was shaking so badly that I needed both hands to hold the glass of alcohol to bring it to my mouth.

There was nothing glamorous about this. No party the night before. I was alone at home again and I was simply dying from shame and alcoholism. It’s quite a fragile and helpless state when you have a disease that tells you three things once the craving takes over. It says:

1. You do not have this disease and you can drink like other normal people. It will be different this time…

2. If you do not drink, then you will die.

3. You’re going to die!

Finally on day nine of this relapse I agreed to seek help again with support from my therapist. The technician from the rehab had to wait at the door as I was unable to stand up and walk. I was laying there on the floor soaked in my own urine while he knocked on the door.

I did manage to change my shorts and crawl down the hallway to the front door while he waited patiently for me to let him in.

In that very short amount of time, I had quickly become consumed with fear and shame again. This was the life that I was desperately trying to escape from. I was trying to avoid and escape anything that made me feel uncomfortable and threatened my emotional safety. I avoided emotional intimacy like it was a plague.

Wherever I was at the time I wanted to be somewhere else. My biggest resentments were not toward others. I had become my biggest resentment. Acceptance of who I am has become my friend and not my enemy. I am not proud of becoming alcoholic. But today I am not ashamed of it either.

One day at a time I get the opportunity to move through my fears by simply acknowledging them, sitting with them long enough to name them, and then accepting them. Awareness and acceptance is where it starts for me. To get to this point it requires honesty. And sometimes it requires an honesty so rigorous that it feels quite uncomfortable, and I can find myself being restless, irritable, and discontented. When I am rigorously honest, I am going to places from my past that I do not necessarily want to go to anymore. This is where I find empowerment, joy, peace, serenity, freedom, and love.

Thank you some much for all of your support over these years. I am a grateful, recovering alcoholic today. Sending you all strength, hope, courage, and love. God bless! 🙏

Steve