Addicted
Addicted
Drinking can consume anyone, and often the way out is difficult. But God does extend his hand to us.
All of these things applied to me. I’ve never felt more shameful, humiliated, or alone in all my life. My life had spiraled down as far as it could go.
My sinful nature had me running from my Lord and Savior because I was ashamed of who I had become and what I was doing, not only to myself but to those who loved me too. I was a full-time mom, wife, employee, and a victim of alcohol—a closet drinker, if you will.
I had a secret problem
I had a problem with alcohol in high school, but I straightened out, got married, and had two beautiful boys. But my mother’s death and my failing marriage brought me back to alcohol. Drinking began to consume me. It took a 12-pack to get home. Then I was a wife and mother until everyone went to bed. It took another 12-pack to get through the rest of the night. I’d sit at home and drink alone.
I also was cross addicted. After my family went to bed, I would go online. I longed for the male attention I found “cybering.”
I hid the beer in the garage. At night, I’d open four or five at a time so no one could hear the top pop or the cap twist. I got rid of the empties in cereal boxes. I’d even put them in a big purse and dispose of them in dumpsters around town.
But I didn’t have a problem, at least that’s what I told myself. I knew better. I went to a Lutheran grade school and knew Luther’s Catechism. But Satan kept chirping in my ear even when I sat in church with a hangover.
Recovery begins
I think that the beginning of my recovery happened one Sunday as I was leaving church. You see, it was important for me to be in church; my faith was very strong. Even if I had to sit there with a hangover, I was there. One Sunday I didn’t look very good and when my pastor asked how I felt, I said, “You don’t want to know.” He persisted and eventually got me to a Christian counselor.
For months, I defiantly denied my addiction. But the counselor never gave up on me. I was angry at God, angry at the world, and angry with myself, but I wasn’t ready to turn my will and life over to God. I wasn’t ready to give up that control. Finally the counselor said that either I go to an alcohol treatment center or our sessions would have to end. Everyone was surprised when I admitted myself because I hid the drinking so well.
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