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It is now just after midnight, Monday September 4th. Maybe that doesn't mean a whole lot to you besides Labor Day, but it means the world to me.
Today, I celebrate my tenth year of sobriety.
Don't misunderstand. I wasn't that drunk in the gutter kind of drinker nor was I the crack house kind of drug user. I was the suburban housewife kind of drinker and recreational drug user. I held a very responsible job, was raising a child all by myself, owned a house and a red sports car -- your typical suburban dream come true. The only thing missing was a white picket fence.
But I could see it coming. Things were falling apart around me. I was just liking it too much, finding it too easy to just come home from work, light up a joint and slide myself around a bottle of vodka.
So, without going into great detail (although the story is a very good one - my million tiny pieces really are a million tiny pieces) I found myself in rehab on September 4th, 1996. I had my last drink and joint the day before. I spent 28 days in rehab getting to know myself all over again -- getting to know myself sober. There was a solar eclipse that month and I watched it through the window of my room in a full lockdown rehab. I also celebrated my 43rd birthday there.
Was it hard? You bet. Is it still hard? Yes and no. I can honestly say I really think I don't miss it. Of course, being me, I love to tease my son when we go out to dinner by ordering a Grey Goose martini (I loved them with maraschino cherries in them). That's just ME. Humor has always gotten me through the baddest of bad times.
At first, I had a rough time. I felt deprived. I didn't think I would ever be able to go anywhere again. How do you go out dancing, listening to music in bars, out to dinner with friends? How do you go to cocktail parties and not "cocktail"? It took me a year or two, but I found out the answer. You just DO. You go and you tell yourself NO.
I even learned that you can go to Grateful Dead concerts and not get stoned. Did you know that at any Grateful Dead related concert, there is an NA meeting called Wharf Rats at intermission? Just look for the yellow balloons. I went to my first concert - the Further Festival - about a year later. I took my son to the concert and to the meeting.
Now, I gotta tell you, I'm not a big book totin' hardcore Friend of Bill kind of AA person. I don't attend weekly meetings, but I know they are there for me if I need them. For 10 years, a meeting schedule has hung proudly from the side of my refridgerator. If I need a meeting, I go and find what I need to keep me from picking up. In 10 years, I haven't picked up ONCE.
So, why am I doing this now? Simple. Because my 12th step says it is necessary for me to pass on what I have learned if I am to keep going. The 12 steps are something nobody ever completes, but we do get to that point when we are ready to pass on to others our experiences and our joy in sobriety.
This is my gift to myself and to everyone else -- if you can take anything from it, that's great. If you don't need it, that's great, too.
Happy and sober, Persi
Today, I celebrate my tenth year of sobriety.
Don't misunderstand. I wasn't that drunk in the gutter kind of drinker nor was I the crack house kind of drug user. I was the suburban housewife kind of drinker and recreational drug user. I held a very responsible job, was raising a child all by myself, owned a house and a red sports car -- your typical suburban dream come true. The only thing missing was a white picket fence.
But I could see it coming. Things were falling apart around me. I was just liking it too much, finding it too easy to just come home from work, light up a joint and slide myself around a bottle of vodka.
So, without going into great detail (although the story is a very good one - my million tiny pieces really are a million tiny pieces) I found myself in rehab on September 4th, 1996. I had my last drink and joint the day before. I spent 28 days in rehab getting to know myself all over again -- getting to know myself sober. There was a solar eclipse that month and I watched it through the window of my room in a full lockdown rehab. I also celebrated my 43rd birthday there.
Was it hard? You bet. Is it still hard? Yes and no. I can honestly say I really think I don't miss it. Of course, being me, I love to tease my son when we go out to dinner by ordering a Grey Goose martini (I loved them with maraschino cherries in them). That's just ME. Humor has always gotten me through the baddest of bad times.
At first, I had a rough time. I felt deprived. I didn't think I would ever be able to go anywhere again. How do you go out dancing, listening to music in bars, out to dinner with friends? How do you go to cocktail parties and not "cocktail"? It took me a year or two, but I found out the answer. You just DO. You go and you tell yourself NO.
I even learned that you can go to Grateful Dead concerts and not get stoned. Did you know that at any Grateful Dead related concert, there is an NA meeting called Wharf Rats at intermission? Just look for the yellow balloons. I went to my first concert - the Further Festival - about a year later. I took my son to the concert and to the meeting.
Now, I gotta tell you, I'm not a big book totin' hardcore Friend of Bill kind of AA person. I don't attend weekly meetings, but I know they are there for me if I need them. For 10 years, a meeting schedule has hung proudly from the side of my refridgerator. If I need a meeting, I go and find what I need to keep me from picking up. In 10 years, I haven't picked up ONCE.
So, why am I doing this now? Simple. Because my 12th step says it is necessary for me to pass on what I have learned if I am to keep going. The 12 steps are something nobody ever completes, but we do get to that point when we are ready to pass on to others our experiences and our joy in sobriety.
This is my gift to myself and to everyone else -- if you can take anything from it, that's great. If you don't need it, that's great, too.
Happy and sober, Persi
