My oldest friend died almost exactly a year after my daughter's first steps. I traveled to San Francisco many times to help Sarah and care for her. I was able to see her for the last time just twelve hours before she died. We got to have our last goodbyes.
I was devastated. Old people die, not childhood friends, not at 33 years old. Some six months after her death, I was sad, depressed, and lonely. They were dark days, and I went to see a counselor.
In one of our first few meetings, she asked me if I drank alcohol. She knew that I was on medication and was not supposed to drink while taking it. I answered, "Occasionally.”
The truth was I watched the clock every day for my husband to come home so I could have my first glass of wine. I was drinking two? three? More? glasses but never when I was alone with my daughter but, in truth, since Sarah's death, I had noticed that I felt I had to have those glasses.
My counselor asked me to see a friend of hers for an alcohol assessment. My issues were not alcohol, I thought. I didn't drink and drive, I never "had too many” (although I did at a party a few weeks before and had thrown up (something I had never done, not even in college). I didn't consume alcohol during my pregnancy, though it really annoyed me. I went to see the woman just to prove to my counselor that I didn't have a problem with alcohol.
Randy said she would meet with me three times and then give me her assessment. Towards the end of the first session, she announced that she did not need to see me two more times.
Vindication! I thought. See, I'm not an alcoholic; I don't have a problem!
But what she said stunned me. "You are heading down a very dangerous road. You're drinking rather than dealing with your feelings and life. It appears that chemically speaking, you still may have a choice about drinking. You might keep that choice for some time but because of all you have told me about your family's history of alcoholism and alcohol abuse, especially your mother, I am concerned for you. It's my opinion that if you continue to drink, the disease of alcoholism will take over and you will lose your choice and your body will make you drink even if you don't want to. It may not happen tomorrow, you may have perhaps four more drinks, or four years, but it will happen.”
"My advice: stop now while you still have the choice. You may think that you will know which drink in the future will be the one to create complete chemical dependency. Do you think you are clever enough to figure out which drink it will be? Just before you take that drink though, the sky will not open, and God will not make an announcement alerting you that 'This is the drink'."
I was silent. I knew she was right. Would I take the chance of destroying my life, my daughter's life, and my husband's life for a glass of wine? I saw in an instant that I wasn't smart enough to know which drink would take my choices and my life away from me. I didn't want to be an alcoholic mom, like my mom. I didn't want my daughter to look at me with pity and anger.
I could see that for me drinking was like playing Russian roulette with my life and hers. If l stopped now, I wouldn't have to wait to see which chamber the bullet was in. Perhaps, I could start a new family legacy of sobriety and health.
In AA they speak of "reaching your bottom," the point where you are given the gift of realization that you must quit. Like an elevator in a skyscraper, the elevator lets you off on any floor. I didn't want to go all the way to the basement.
The sky did open that day. It wasn't like in the movies. God didn't grab a drink out of my hand and stop me. God doesn’t work that way—at least not in my life. The voice that I heard came from an older, petite woman with kindness in her eyes. Her voice spoke to the quiet knowing part inside of me. God gives us a choice. We must make it and keep it. I did hear God and I got off the elevator and stepped into a new life. It has made all the difference.
Libbie S - from her book - God Shots: Moments & Lessons, A life in Recovery, Motherhood to Covid
