November
18,
2002
Hi, I’m Pam, an Alcoholic,
I was born into a large alcoholic family of the 10 kids & both grandparents on my mother’s side. My grandfather – 22 yrs older than my grandmother - had left her to figure out how to support & raise all them kids on her own – so he could live the last 30 yrs of his life on the streets of the big city as a wino, till he died of prostrate cancer at 84 yrs old.
I knew my grandfather was an alcoholic because that’s what my father always referred to him as - & frequently telling my mother that she & her entire family were all alcoholics. Every weekend they would all come to our house for meals together, card games, fun & music & laughter - & I loved every minute of it as well as having the big bunch of all my cousins there to visit. We were allowed to sip & taste drinks – which made me feel so much a part of – rather than the klutzy self-conscious way I felt different & not an acceptable part of my family the rest of the time – like some gray separation always stood between all others & myself.
I was born in northern California on a huge cattle ranch vineyard where my workaholic father’s mom & siblings lived - the middle child of 2 older brothers & 2 younger sisters. Being 1st & oldest girl, I was treated as if oldest child. At 2 ½ yrs old my family moved to a city just outside of Boston, Massachusetts where my mother’s parents & all her siblings lived. Due to this change & being taken from the security of my grandmother, I avoided being close to anyone after that – an underlying fear & rage & aloneness that conveyed itself by just having no interest nor need for any type of closeness to others – esp to adults. I kept my distance with a very guarded deep mistrust.
I always had that sense of “knowing more” – esp of knowing what I need & what’s best for me - & have always been highly independent & very rebellious from what I believed was right & wrong or what’s fair & what isn’t & what I wanted. & longing to be loved but not able to push past whatever it was blocking me. My heart & focus would always be toward anyone I viewed as lonely or suffering – not knowing that I was seeing the pain in them that I didn’t know was in me. And I freaked when I saw news reports showing people in other countries dying of starvation & couldn’t understand why we weren’t all feeding them. I was very fearful & preoccupied with human suffering when I discovered it exists. & that nothing seemed to getting done to stop it.
I was very intelligent & loved reading - could read, write & spell since around age 3. Before kindergarten started – my mother would have me read to her from the newspaper while she prepared our dinner each evening. I was always hyper-active & had to be busy with artwork or activities I enjoyed - & could not handle sitting to watch tv or some non-creative idleness like that. My favorite was to be around groups of other kids to have fun, play sports, competitive games or adventurous & daring challenges (I was always the little girl in the frilly dress & bows with the scraped up knees & climbing trees & driving tonka trucks thru the dirt roads in the back yard or at the park hanging from the monkey bars) so I loved the social aspect of going to school & being with all the other kids.
I basically went thru school with all A’s without opening a book . . . adlibbing & bluffing came naturally to me. To sit & read or study was too mundane so each year my teachers would have me doing artwork & decorating the school lobby to keep me from disrupting their attempts to teach the class.
At home – I spent most of my childhood grounded because I disagreed with & questioned the validity of just about everything that was ever said to me. That was always interpreted as talking back & giving lip. I could out-run my mother tho – but she did give a good chase!
My mother was only drinking on weekends back then but was addicted to tranquilizers from the doctor, so by the time I’d get home from school she’d be about crashed w/that nasty ‘downs attitude’ of horns on her head w/flames shooting from her nostrils at anything I said or did – esp if I woke her to ask if I could go out to play. But it was worse if I tip-toed to change clothes & just go out without waking her to ask – so I spent most my childhood alone in my room each day talking to God & asking when is He sending my real family to come rescue me – as all I could ever figure is that I must be adopted. (I wasn’t tho)
I’d had an out-of-body near death experience from grabbing a raw wire, mistaking it for the towel bar as I was about to get out of the bathtub one day when I was 5 yrs old - & saw the awesome magnetically drawing Brilliant Light that I immediately recognized to be God (even tho I’d never heard of God at that time). The overwhelming peace & love was so intense I wanted to go there. So it was quite natural for me to talk with God & expecting He would send me rescue & comfort – but it never came. So as I grew a bit older in my childhood years, I decided that God doesn’t care about me & simply takes some sort of pleasure in seeing me suffer. I was being raised in Catholic Church by then & learning that God is a vengeful punishing God - & as I continued getting grounded in my room most the time – I was being told that I will never go to Heaven because I am too bad.
When I was 9 my family bought a house in the country. I was excited but depressed at same time. It looked gloomy & boring to me to move to this type of house & neighborhood. I was grief stricken to be leaving all my friends. Then upon moving in, found out there were no kids in my whole neighborhood other than the family across the street who always stayed indoors to do chores & homework. I was no longer to ride my bike & go to sports & gymnastic activities because there were no sidewalks. There were no buses to go downtown & see a movie – there wasn’t even a downtown. I had begun drinking coffee w/a neighbor friend at 7 yrs old & I’d begun smoking cigarettes at 8 yrs old - & now I couldn’t get either.
Within a week or 2 I’d begun making friends at school that lived too far away to chum with outside of school – but then I was invited to a pajama party & was so excited that I’d be able to end my dreary boredom & deep loneliness with some friends & fun & laughter. My parents wouldn’t allow me to go, saying those kids are too wild - & instead made me baby-sit my younger sisters while they went out with their new friends. I was infuriated! & even more so because there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. So for spite – I took one of my mother’s cans of beer out of the fridge & guzzled it down, knowing how upset she’d be if one of her precious beers were missing. I felt good knowing how much it would upset her.
By the time I had guzzled half that beer – it was magical . . . I was Dorothy loving life in the land of Oz – all my frustration & rage & feelings of vengeful satisfaction left me & I felt warmly peaceful & calm from head to toe – inside & out - & decided to myself that I can make myself wait contentedly to turn 18 so I could then move out on my own & live as I want to. I can do it. Everything is ok. I am not letting them get to me anymore.
The next time I drank I was 11 yrs old. All the kids stole booze out of their houses & we met in a parking lot when snuck out after our parents had all gone to bed one night. I remember thinking God was watching me - & I made that feeling go away. I had decided that God could not possibly be real because every word that the church had ever said about Him was nothing I had seen of Him nor what He was like when I was 5 – so maybe I did just imagine that. And if He is real – then I’m going to hell when I die anyway – I’ll never know happiness in Heaven – I will just ALWAYS be miserable & suffering - & I’m not going to – I’m going to live it up & do whatever I want to enjoy this life – cuz I sure won’t be enjoying anything in the next.
We had frappe sized paper cups & everyone poured some of what they had into each other’s cups – so it was a mix of everything from beer to vermouth to whiskey to scotch to who knows what – all straight till our cups were filled to the top – no mixers (what did we know?) - & then we had a contest to see who could guzzle theirs down first. I was in & out of black-outs & throwing up for the next 3 days. I could not even smell a drink or a beer across a room after that without immediately throwing up. But when I tried smoking a joint soon after that – I could smoke pot just fine.
At 13 I began running away from home & began doing mescaline, acid, crystal meth . . . & that became my daily way of life for the next 13 yrs other than during the pregnancies of my children. At 16 I tried drinking again & was throwing up before it went down. At 19 I had finally found one kind of mixed drink that I COULD drink – but I didn’t like drinking because before I’d finish half of one drink I’d pass out - & my highlight of life was the party – the people, the fun, the noise, the laughter.
At 21 I finally could drink! I had a choice of 2 drinks I could drink without passing right out – esp in combo w/speed or acid - & going to the dance clubs on weekends & then everyone coming back to my apt to continue the party after the clubs closed became the central focus of my life. By this time I’d been thru 2 marriages, had 2 children, was living in my 3rd committed relationship - & then abandoned my 2 beautiful children who had become an obstacle to the way I wanted to live. My daughter was 3 & my son was 18 mos old. Both were the cutest & most loving kids that I adored completely, but I couldn’t keep up with working nights, trying to take care of them all day & living my party life of fun & excitement that I’d always thrived on. Later when my daughter was 5 & I was in my 3rd marriage, I got her back – but I have never gotten my oldest son back & we’ve always had a very distant relationship that we hardly know one another. I spent 8 yrs crying myself to sleep each night in knots of guilt & in deep hatred because I blamed his father as the cause or we’d never have divorced & nothing would be this way. Every night I’d have to get up & slam down a couple of stiff drinks so I could pass out to get some sleep. I didn’t come out of that denial & start getting honest & able to live with myself about that until my 1st Step 4.
That relationship at that time had also been the one true love of my life – ideally compatible & perfect in every way – other than he thought he was an alcoholic & was trying to get me to join him at these AA mtgs he somehow stumbled across - & I genuinely feared he had acquired some sort of mental illness that he’d be locked away for if anyone found out – so I would storm in & drag him right out each time I’d hear he was at one! – but then that ended due to a really foolish act on my part after being up & drunk at least 2 or 3 straight days – & completely devastated both of us.
At 26 I completely gave up all the drugs due to being so totally appalled at myself to learn I was 5 ½ mos pregnant with my 4th child - without even the slightest thought I might be – I’d been drinking & drugging so continually. After my youngest son was born is when my real drinking began & lasted about 2 more years. I didn’t drink daily & at times I didn’t drink at all for 2 or 3 weeks – but I mostly drank every weekend – the big party was still always at my house. And even tho I wasn’t drinking every day – I was thinking of & planning for my weekend each day of the week till it was here. Usually the weekend began on Thursday - & at times it ended on Wednesday. At times I leave to go shopping - & instead of coming home w/the groceries to make supper & do homework w/the kids & get them to bed – I might get home the next day.
One day a knock on the door was a woman police officer handed me a green pepper saying I’d left it in her cruiser when I’d dropped my bag of groceries the night before. Cruiser? Groceries? I didn’t let on that I had no clue what this was about.
Another day the knock at 8:am was the minister from the local church had come to welcome me to the neighborhood when I answered the door, bottle of Miller’s in hand - & assured him I already know Jesus – I’m all set.
Several times I woke mystified to find myself at home asleep in my own bed – totally baffled at how I could’ve gotten there because I KNOW I didn’t leave the party! Even more baffling – my car in the driveway - & I drove it. Kids with me most those times too.
I would sit at home alone at my kitchen table in fear of whatever it is that is wrong with me – certain I have some strange mysterious mental illness the shrinks don’t know about or they would’ve spotted it during my times of counseling by now. & knew that I had better not tell them how I really think & what goes on with me, cuz if they don’t know about it – they don’t know how to treat it - & will just lock me away in the mental institution permanently. I can’t let anyone know.
Then I woke one morning to find every item in the house boxed in taped shut boxes lined up along the living room wall, ready to be moved out the front door - & I knew! It was a plot! My husband (then) was trying to make me look insane & have me put away so he could collect insurance on me or something. I didn’t know what black-outs were nor that I was having them – but now knew he was somehow setting me up for all those times & spots of not knowing how things happened – trying to make it appear as if I had done them! He had even smashed up the mag wheels on the car & insisted I’m the one who’d done it!
So I was on to him. But couldn’t explain the late Sunday night he came home from visiting friends when I was too partied out from the weekend to have gone with him. I had instead sat in the recliner in the living room because I’d just put the kids to bed & now I could pass out. I woke to him lifting my face up out of the dirt on the front lawn & I had no idea what I was doing there! It was 85 degrees out & all the windows & doors to the house were shut tight & locked. The kids were all inside, asleep. Then during the night I woke from sleep in my bed as the booze wore off & I was in such pain that I couldn’t breath nor lay there. X-rays at the hospital showed 6 broken ribs & the circular marks on my back explained that I must’ve gone off the top front step backwards & landed across the iron planter at the bottom of the front steps. To this day I don’t know anything other than I had sat in the living room recliner to pass out.
After that I’d sit at my kitchen table deciding I must have whatever the strange mysterious mental illness is - & from there on I mostly stayed home alone every day – I kept feeling an impending doom like my head would suddenly splat off the ceiling. I’d sit on my hands on the couch because I felt if they were loose I would get up & start smashing out the front window. I’d sit there & wonder to myself why I am thinking this way – why would I do that?!
Some days I’d walk to the bar down the street – but how drinks affected me was changing. I’d feel my face get numbed on one drink & felt freakish & awkward. Anyone who sat next to me & said hello received a nasty reply of vulgarity (what the f* is it to you?!) I would feel too mocus or would fear I smelled like booze - & would never show up at functions or special awards days or for teacher mtgs at my kids’ school. I always had this feeling that I absolutely could not stand myself, but could never pin-point a reason why.
Meanwhile, I’d been violent since 5 yrs old & my present marriage had always been very physically violent – till one night it ended that he was arrested & I began divorce proceedings. Then I learned he went into rehab for 90 days so he could get custody of the kids when he got out. So I quit drinking completely. I went thru horrendous withdrawals at home alone with the kids for about 2 weeks - & then I felt fine. I phoned my sister & made plans to go out partying that weekend cuz now that the excess built up in my system was gone, I knew I’d be fine. & I certainly wouldn’t be drinking as often nor as much as I had now that the hubby wouldn’t be there anymore.
I looked at my kids & they appeared anxious as if they didn’t know how to act or what to do with themselves now with the house being so quiet. So I phoned to talk to the guidance counselor at their school & asked where she recommends I take them for counseling. When I told her the whole story, she told me she’s in Alanon & her husband is the one I need to talk to – so he called me that evening when he got home & tried to talk me into going to an AA mtg. I assured him I do not have a drinking problem – I’m going out with my sister that weekend & I’ll be fine. So he tricked me into going to the meeting that night with him, under the guise that I’d be able to learn the facts from the experts & then I could best counsel my children myself.
As I listened to everyone sharing, I identified & knew I am an alcoholic. I also felt that warm loving deep presence of God - & knew this is where He wants me. I heard everyone sharing about having had that same exact thinking I had that I believed to be my mysterious unknown mental illness – only they were also sharing solutions they’d found to be free of it - & were now happy. I wanted to know how they’d found those solutions. Each one kept telling me “It’s the Steps. It’s the 12 Steps” I had no idea what the Steps means – they told me I have to come back each day & each day I’ll learn a little more till I know what they all are & will have the solutions for myself.
The man who had 12-Stepped me introduced me to my Sponsor. The 2 of them took me around & introduced me to several others who also already knew the Steps & gave me a little address book with all their phone #’s in it so I could phone them to talk about learning those solutions & if I want to know where mtgs are or if I need a ride to any of them.
At 8 mos I relapsed, thinking that my thinking had just been screwy & now it was all straightened out. I was soon back to the program & stayed sober & got thru the 12 Steps & lived them for 6 yrs before another relapse – not for wanting to drink – but because I intended to commit suicide. I had reunited with my hubby & even tho my entire life had been transformed in every possible way – it was still the most abusive marriage from hell.
A couple of years later I finally surrendered again & got back to the program – but just before having a 1 yr anniversary again – I relapsed again. Only this time the booze had entirely turned on me & made me deathly ill & into a black-out on 1st drink – yet I could not stop. Each day for 6 wks I picked up another white chip & would be in a black-out again a couple of hours later – convinced my life was ending by this long drawn out tormenting death. I conceded & accepted that if this is what God’s Will is – so be it. But asked God if there is any possible chance He would be the Power to keep me sober just long enough for me to get thru the Steps one more time – I am willing to put my all into getting thru them without drinking nor drugging. And if I can’t do it – then I’ll know its not His Will for me to live any longer but I’ll also know that I did put my all into it. That I did try.
That was the day I picked up my last White Chip – 11 years ago today – Nov 18, 1991 & I have been trudging (walking with head held up, and with purpose) that Happy Road of Destiny, one day at a time ever since. But for the Grace of God.
I don’t know how to make this any shorter.
Pam
Pam B lives in Florida and would love to hear from you.
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Glen H
Revised:
30 Oct 2005 03:40:40 -0800