Wednesday, October 15, 2014

My name is Glenna. I’m not an alcoholic.


It’s weird to say that.  I spent many years in AA meetings saying the opposite. 

I stopped drinking at age 16 and maintained my sobriety until my mid-40’s. 

I entered Heartview Treatment Center when I was 16.  I’d been a binge drinker.  I remember (sort of) my last big hurrah.  Some classmates and I skipped out of school and went to a friend’s house to drink.  I recall drinking some hard liquor out of those tall metal glasses some folks used to have.  They curved out at the lip and were colored?  They were super cold to the touch and looked rather pretty with the condensation running down the sides.  But I digress.  I ingested a lot of booze that day.  Couldn’t tell you how much.  It was a long damn time ago! 

Then we went driving around.  More proof that teenagers are brilliant and should be allowed to make decisions for themselves. 

I was a passenger.  The world was fuzzy.  We went to the arcade next to Century High School, the school I’d been attending since my Mom had gotten remarried.  (To a man I loathed but that’s another story.)  I was a sophomore. 

Anyway, at the arcade I recall that I was shooting pool and some smart ass guy decided to get friendly with my backside with a pool cue when I was bending over so I spun around and tried to cold cock him upside the head with my cue and fell into a pile of stacked chairs.  Then I staggered into the bathroom to throw up.  There's another semi-long story about this but I'm going to skip it.  This is going to be a long post as it is.

I wandered over to the school for a ride home on the bus but I’d missed the bus.  The place we lived was maybe a mile or so north of Century if I hiked across the fields.  It was winter and lots of snow on the ground.  I’d been wearing clogs that day and they wouldn’t stay on my feet so I hiked part of the way thru the snow in the fields in my stocking feet.  I discussed this post recently with my sister and Dad and she gave me a good replica of our mother's "look" over that one.  Things were fuzzy so I couldn’t say how much of the hike was made in stocking feet but no frostbite at least.

I made it home and things get really fuzzy from this point…I think I was trying to make some toast and my siblings decided they had to get my downstairs to hide my drunken ass from Mom and Dennis (pig/step-dad).  I think I threatened my sister with a knife.  She doesn't recall that but I have a recollection of us in the basement...she was by the stairs and I was near my room so at least I wasn't in her face.  I carried a knife back then.  It even had a name.  My siblings will know exactly what I'm talking about.  It was a semi-pussy knife since it wasn't a switchblade but it was long and had a point and people never seemed to notice that I carried it in my back pocket.  I wasn’t the sweetest tempered kid walking the planet. 

After that I really couldn’t say what happened.  I had a blackout.  My Mom told me later that she and Dennis took turns keeping a vigil to keep me out of the knife drawer.  

Did I mention I was a troubled kid with some issues?

All this went over like a ton of lead with my Mom.  Can’t say as I blamed her one bit BUT when she and Dennis and some other guy sat me down and told me they were checking me into Heartview Treatment Center I went into a cold rage.  I think it was some sort of an intervention though I had no say in anything.   In reality the extra guy was so that they'd have grown men on either side of me in the back seat, to stop me from bolting out of the car on the way to the jitter joint.  

I did 6 weeks in Heartview.  It was an awakening. 

In Heartview my horizons expanded.  I got counseling.  I began to examine my life and the things that made me tick and started to become self aware in a way I never had before.   I realized my life could be different.

I made friends that WEREN’T in high school.  Adults, people from other states and countries. (well Canada, but still…)  People that I respected, who were impressed with me and told me so.  My life up to that point hadn’t had much of that.  I was something of a misfit in school.  I was awkward, an introvert and I had a major chip on my shoulder so I wasn’t exactly an approachable person.  I was failing to live up to the expectations of my family.   Having all these new people in my life who thought highly of me really changed how I saw myself.  My confidence and self esteem rose dramatically.

Heartview was good for me.  REALLY good for me!  It was probably the most important thing that ever happened to me. 

Before Heartview I didn’t expect to live past the age of 18.  Don’t ask me why but I really didn’t.  
Before Heartview I was a kid who was headed down a bad road.  I can't imagine where I’d be today if not for that intervention.   It completely changed the direction of my life.  I’m not exaggerating in the slightest on this point either.  I give that place credit for the fact that I am now a reasonably sensible, responsible adult who contributes to society, pays her taxes and values her family above all else. 

For the next almost 30 years I didn’t touch a drop.  Well except for once.   New Year’s Eve, the year 2000.  I had 2 sips of champagne at the comedy club my husband Mike and I had gone to for the evening.  I wanted to be like everyone else for the changing of the century. 

After that I wondered why I didn’t care if I drank again.  Because I didn’t.  I'd thought I would want to drink.  Instead I felt "meh" about the whole thing.  I felt no pull towards the booze.  I thought it was strange but I liked my life as it was so decided it didn’t matter and went on with it.

Years later, after Mike and I had divorced, Ben, my youngest, was grown but still living at home, I went thru what I think of as a serious mid-life, semi-empty nest crisis.  I was in my mid-40’s. 

I didn’t know who I was anymore since I didn’t need to be Mom/provider/teacher to my kids as I had been previously.  My identity had been so tied up in setting an example and taking care of them for so long that I became lost when that role basically disappeared.  I had done my job well and they were self sufficient people, going out and living their own lives and making their own decisions.  Now I was just me and I wasn’t really sure what the purpose was in that.

I had another key moment during this time frame when I was hanging out with my friend Cheryl, whom I’ve known since kindergarten.  We were talking and she said how she always wondered if I was really an alcoholic and I admitted I’d wondered about that too sometimes because I’d never felt it difficult to put a cork in the bottle, so to speak.  I’d hear people talk about how hard it was to resist drinking but I never felt that way.  Anyway, she mentioned how she’d felt bad not inviting me to various get togethers because there would be booze there and she didn’t want to make me uncomfortable. 

I remember going home that night thinking about that.  Thinking about being an outsider.  I always have been in many ways but that was another one.  I didn’t drink.  After almost 30 years of sobriety, trust me, I knew I was different and that most drinkers never did seem to feel comfy around someone who didn’t join in.  They’d prefer I wasn’t around.  I was a drag to them.  They thought I was judging them.  Since I wasn’t all that crazy about dealing with drunk ass people I tended to agree.  At the same time, I admitted I was tired of being an outsider in so many ways. 


These 4 harmless personality traits we’re all embarrassed about are summarized as follows:

  1. Not Drinking
  2. Not liking spicy food
  3. Not wanting to talk about sex
  4. Loneliness

Here is the section on Not Drinking (by C. Coville)

#1. Not Drinking


People in today's society enjoy social activities that our ancestors would never have dreamed of. If you tell people you spent last Saturday night at a gay bar, that's cool with everyone. Even if you tell people that it was a gay bar for people who enjoy The Walking Dead, most people will still be on board. But if you were at that gay bar and you weren't drinking? That's getting kind of weird, dude. Any long-term non-drinker will tell you that informing people of one's teetotaling habits in a bar is often received as well as a yarmulke at an ISIS party. After all, you're in a bar. Why else would anyone go to a bar if not to drink? To talk to other people? Ha!

I think non-drinkers get this reaction because they make the people around them feel guilty. Your average drinker is out somewhere to relax and intoxicate himself, and then all of a sudden there's a non-drinker in his face, gearing up (he assumes) to silently judge his deteriorating drunken antics with a non-drunk, terrifyingly clear brain. There's a good chance that this drinker had already started imbibing when his friend declined a drink, which means his inhibitions are lowered, and the little angel on his shoulder that usually slams his jaw closed when he's about to say something rude has gone off to get a gin and tonic. So instead of simply saying "Oh" and changing the subject to how much he hates The Walking Dead like a normal person, he'll instead try to push alcohol on the non-drinker like the bad guy in a high school PSA.

And it's not like the non-drinker can always just explain their reasons for not consuming alcohol. Not everyone wants to talk about personal issues with people they don't know that well, especially if they involve something serious like a history of addiction or a medical problem. Talking about that stuff is difficult at the best of times, and it's a billion times more so when you're surrounded by uninhibited drunk people. Non-drinkers have not only been cursed with a preference that attracts the opinions of insecure assholes, and they've been cursed with a preference that almost exclusively comes up in the environment most conducive to those people being assholes. It's enough to drive you to ... glare really hard at people over your glass of diet soda, I guess.

See?  I’m not making this up!  It’s even written about and I know exactly what this writer is talking about!
By this time I hadn’t attended an AA meeting in maybe 20 years.  Pretty much since I’d moved to MN.  I didn’t feel like I fit in anymore.  I tried going a few times because I felt like I should and I’d listen to the stories but they didn’t fit me.  I wasn’t connecting.  I wasn’t having trouble resisting the drink.  I simply wasn’t having the issues they were.  I was quite self aware and in control of my life.  Well…as much control as any person can have when raising 3 independent, energetic, occasionally bratty kids.  For the most part, things were going pretty smoothly.   There wasn't a lot of drama.

Over the years, the legs were being knocked out of the theories that had “proven” I was an alcoholic from a family of addicts.  My other family members still drank a bit but certainly weren’t acting like addicts.  They had gotten a grip on their own demons and left the abusive behavior behind them.

I remember when I finally decided to try having a drink. 

I remember that I’d bought a Mike’s Hard Lemonade 6 pack at the grocery store.  I didn’t know any better!  I started soft. 

Anyway, I sat there for the longest time debating if I really wanted to change a lifestyle of almost 30 years of not drinking.  It was part of my identity…this not drinking.  I sat a long time.  What tipped me over the edge?   I needed to know the truth.  I was ready to take the risk to find out the truth.  Was I really an alcoholic?  I didn’t feel like I fit that.  I hadn’t felt like I fit that description for a very long time. 

Then I did it.  Took that drink.  And then thought, well, that was anti-climactic.  And it was. 

It’s been a few years since that moment.  Life has gone on without any major upheavals.  Now it’s a nice addition to my life and while I enjoy a drink now and again, I don’t drink much because it’s fattening, expensive and mostly because I’m usually not in the mood to.  I'm very aware of how it can go wrong and also very aware that self medicating is an utterly pointless endeavor.

This brings me to the crux of the issue I wanted to write about. 

It has been difficult for me to admit that I drink.  Not because of shame but because, during my years in AA they talked about how there was no cure.  I agree with that.  I wasn’t cured.  I was never an alcoholic.

Problem is, by admitting all this, I’m a threat to recovering addicts.  I don’t want to be but I am. 

I was misdiagnosed.  I was a troubled kid who abused alcohol but I'm not an alcoholic. 

On the one hand, I’m very glad for the misdiagnosis because walking away from self medication and getting counseling was vital for me to change my life and live it in a better way.  It enabled me to be the best Mom I could be to my kids and to raise them with a clear head.  I learned to cope with life without using booze for a crutch.  I came to grips with the troubles of my past and learned to find the upside to all of it.  There was actually a HUGE upside!  I learned to enjoy life without alcohol.  I’ve spent most of my adult life NOT drinking and I think that’s been a very good thing for me. 

I have no regrets about the misdiagnosis.  It made my life better than it would have been. 

On the other hand, the people who’ve thought of me as an alcoholic for all these years have struggled somewhat with the change.  My Mother gives me the “look” when I’d have a beer with my brother in law at a family get together.  Not so much anymore at least but I tend not to have a beer in front of her anymore just to save her and myself the discomfort. 

I did recently admit this to a relative who has been in recovery for years and they promptly unfriended me on Facebook.  A close relative that I had a close childhood relationship with!  It was hurtful but I have to acknowledge that I am a threat to their sobriety and that’s more important than my hurt feelings.

If I’d mention having a drink on Facebook, some of my friends would comment that they were sorry to hear that.  Like, by having that drink, I was ruining my life.  Trust me, got the subtext.

I, myself, have felt leery about admitting it because I’ve been afraid some of my old friends or people I know who are in recovery that I don’t even know about, might think they should try drinking/using because of my story and possibly meet with disaster.   I’d hate to give someone who is an addict the idea that they should use again and it’ll be ok.  It might not be! 

I guess I'll put a challenge out on this thought.  If you think this is some sort of loophole then I'd say you have to do like I did and stay sober for AT LEAST 29-30 years, to learn how to live without chemicals to cope and THEN decide if it's worth it to take the risk.  29-30 years.  That's a long time to learn how to live with a clear head.  It will change you.  It's what I did.  I don't think I was an addict to start with but if you want to use my story as an excuse then REALLY use it.  Don't be a pussy...stay sober for 29-30 years.  

I have hidden my drinking, not from shame, but partially from worry about its potential negative impact on others and partially because I have not wanted people to worry about me or think badly of me after all the years of them thinking of me as a recovering alcoholic. 

I have fallen off the proverbial wagon but it’s been more like stepping off a curb.  The landing has been low impact.  Except for some of the folks that have known me all these years.  That has sometimes been rocky. 

It’s not easy to change.  There can be a cost to it.  It can hurt.  In the end, despite the alienation of at least one relative, I can’t say I regret it.  I’ve learned more about the truth of myself.  I saw myself a certain way for almost 30 years and then found out that part of what I thought was wrong. 

In the end it wasn’t as traumatic as I thought it might be.  What I had gained from the error was too vast to have any regret.  While I learned that I hadn’t belonged in some of the places I’d been…not really…I remain grateful for the error because they had made such a positive impact on my life!  

I doubt I would have gotten the psychological help I desperately needed without being placed in Heartview and being in recovery.  I sorted my issues out and figured out how to live my life the way I wanted.  I learned I could be loved and accepted despite my flaws and that I could reciprocate that to others.  I learned to accept myself and even like myself.  I doubt I would have learned to work thru my personal issues and gain self awareness and self acceptance if I had continued to self medicate.  I cannot regret it.  Any of it.  It brought me here and here is good.

In the end I have to let go of my worries.  I have to accept that I can’t control others opinions.  They have a right to them.

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change”

I feel it is time to talk about it openly and let people make their own decisions about how they want to react to me and my story.  I’m not going to hide this anymore.  I’m not ashamed.

“Courage to change the things I can”

I’m 50 years old.  I have lived a good productive life and expect to continue to do so.  I have no regrets and I’m satisfied.  

In the end I inhabit my skin.  Only me.  That’s the final judge I’ll answer to on how I live my life and I’m willing to take the “hits” necessary to live life the way I see fit.  Nothing in life is free and I can live with that. 

And the wisdom to know the difference.