Almost 14 years ago, after my engagement/birthday party, a casual friend chastised me: Don’t marry him, you’re "settling". He added, specifically: “he’s a drunk and his parents are shit.”
At the time, everyone else in my vast network of friends and acquaintances were SO happy for me, the fairy tale story of Prince Charming shown up on my doorstep had actually occurred. A doorbell was rung….a proposal made…a wedding was taking place. Even as he said this, seamstresses in Venezuela were crafting my designer wedding gown. Who was this person to dare tell me not to marry my prince?
Well, this person was, in my observation, an alcoholic. A drunk. So who was he to preach to me? I had known him for years, and while I knew him to be a well meaning, fun loving, humorously irreverent person who spoke unabashed truth, I also knew him as someone who drank to sloppy excess, who people had long since stopped making excuses for him anymore. That’s who he was.
So for him to call my fiancé a drunk, I thought, was a little disingenuous. Who was he, someone always holding a vodka drink in his hand, to say that to me? How dare he?
Well, he was right.
My husband was a drunk. (and the second part was true too, but that’s another story.) Our 5.5 years of marriage were an endless cycle of him going on drinking binges then being sick for a few weeks, ambulances and emergency rooms, locked psych wards, damaged vocal chords from all the post-binge throwing up, sniffing his breath and staring into his eyes for evidence of drinking, worrying when he was home late (or when he disappeared for a few days), begging him to go to treatment. Finally, he left me, after two weeks in rehab mandated by our fertility clinic (it was supposed to be a month). And this month marks the fourth anniversary of his death. I haven’t finished mourning.
But today, my friend is alive. Today, he posted the following on his FB page:
Facebook started showing "old" memories sometime ago. So today I get to go back to 10, 11, & 12. But the "thing" is I don't live in the past. I take it one day at a time. So I have been Sober for the past 4,745 days. Aka 13 years. Lucky 13. Pretty cool. As in years past I don't share for the accolades. Or "slap" on the back. I share to inform others anything is a possibility if u find out why you are doing it. In 13 years I've got to watch my kids grow up. I've got to spend time with friends and enjoy them.(and them enjoy me) make new friends. I've got to ride a motorcycle in some very cool places. And most importantly I've been alive to do these and many other "normal" activities of life. Today is day 4,746. Off to the gym. Maybe go see the beach. A lite dinner. All via a motorcycle. And I will NOT be playing golf. Still retired from it.
My friend is alive. And loving life. Happy.
Alcoholism is a disease. But one in which the treatment involves choices. And commitment and hard work. But anyone suffering from any disease knows that treatment involves personal commitment, and steadfastness, and constant self awareness. And choice.
I salute my friend. I’m proud of him. I love him. Keep going.
