During that week of isolation, I was still seeing my therapist. He identified one concern: if Jim would ever agree to come to counseling, he couldn't continue to see me individually. Ethically, he couldn't focus on the union of the marriage, and still support me as an individual on the side. And if those couple's sessions were to increase my stress level, he was concerned even more about my drinking. He gave me the name of a drug/alcohol counselor and asked that I would at least have an evaluation done to make sure he'd covered all his bases. That I wasn't the ticking time bomb he suspected.
Just as when he'd suggested it the first time, I was more than willing to go. Let's get to the bottom of everything and move forward. In for a penny in for a pound.
I'm sure you've met a handful of people in your life that you know, within the second of meeting them, that there is a special connection between the two of you. They might not even have had to open their mouth, but perhaps it's their eye gaze or some chemical liason between the two of you, but you just know. There's something mysteriously....connected....between the two of you.
That's exactly the way I felt when I met my alcohol/drug counselor. Or maybe I was just so in tune with God's will, that I could feel that this was exactly where I needed to be. And I was directed to her, specifically, because God knew we'd connect on a spiritual, emotional level. My doc hadn't even known her very well when he'd sent me to her. They happened to be at the same meeting the week before and they'd networked together. She gave him her card, and it happened to be sitting on the top of his desk as we were talking about about a substance abuse evaluation.
I opened up easily, talking with her. Sharing my substance abuse history. Alcohol always in the home; my parents were the typical "cocktail drinkers" that was widely popular in the 50's. Our family was traditional and boring, though. No drunken stupors. No chaos. No abuse. I had a grandfather - my dad's dad- that was your stereotypical drunk. I didn't know him well; he died when I was young. From what I understand, however, he'd disappear often, couldn't hold a job, and was somewhat (verbally?) abusive. None of his kids showed any signs of alcoholism.
I started drinking in high school to be part of the crowd. There was often a party happening every weekend. Smoking cigarettes was a habit I'd also picked up during that time. I felt the drinking/smoking combo made me appear more "cool" - more one of the crowd. I'd also experimented with marijuana in my last few years of high school as well, but never enjoyed that feeling. I was always too mellow and hyper-self conscious. That was my type of personality anyway, I didn't need anything to magnify it.
In college, I was a "party-girl", starting the weekends on Thursdays. Loved the bars, dancing, and staying out late. I felt more comfortable with a drink and a smoke in my hand. Hangovers were common, black outs less so. I never missed work, however, and remained a good student. By my senior year, I'd discovered cocaine. Largely a weekend escapade, it made me feel like the life of the party. I was confident, beautiful and loving life. I think it's possible that could have gotten out of hand, but I was a student with little cash. An attractive young lady, I could also get it free a lot, but thankfully all of this happened at the end of my college years, just before I'd met my husband.
My husband and I shared a short drug/alcohol life. I was shocked the first time I'd seen him dip his head to snort coke with me - he looked like such a straight arrow kinda guy. We might have shared that experience 4-5 times. But we met literally the last two weeks before I left UK to do my social work internship before graduation. It was time to grow up and start acting like adults. By the time we were married, the "party life" was a thing of the past. He was an officer in the military and in residency; I had a 9 to 5 job. That party time became one more memory of just another college kid's carefree lifestyle before the responsibilities of adulthood took over.
She then issued the substance abuse questionaire. I was to answer the questions without regard to the substance. If it was a "yes" to one substance, then the answer to the question was a "yes" to all. It began to frustrate the heck out of me, because many of my questions that I responded "yes" were purely because of the meth, not alcohol.
Have you ever hidden your usage? - Alcohol, no. Meth, hell yes, it was illegal.
Have you felt that it takes you more to get a feeling of high. Alcohol, never enjoyed getting drunk, so it wasn't the goal when drinking. Meth, yes.
Do you ever feel you need it to get going in the morning. Alcohol, no. Meth, yes.
Do you feel guilty about your usage? Alcohol, no. Meth, yes.
I've often felt that I needed to cut back on my usage. Alcohol, no. Meth, yes.
Have you ever not followed through with what you were supposed to because of your usage? Alcohol, no. Meth, yes.
The conclusion? I had a moderate-severe level of alcoholism and immediate treatment was strongly recommended.
I was pissed.
Here I was, being open....honest, sharing my alcohol history and current use with her, and for that, for THAT, they were going to send me away, lock me up, and make me give up alcohol?! I was no more a drinker than the majority of the population. Happy hours. Can't wait for the weekend. Hearing about someone's bad day - the suggestion, "You need a drink!" Cheers, a celebration. Shoot....everyone drank! Me no more than any of them. Sheesh, it was the one *accepted* chemical in my life! My husband, my family of origin, my friends.....not one single one of them had ever suggested to me that my drinking was a problem. SURE, I'd used it to address pain, but who in this world had NOT? Why am *I* being singled out?!
I was pissed.
I had heard that it was a major concern to me because if it was true that chemical dependency was a progressive disease, which they'd said it was, holding onto any chemical allows the disease to progress.
But *any* addictive behavior was going to do that if I didn't address the issues that cause the behavior to be a problem. I mean, a person could be addicted to anything - the internet, food, sex, shopping - we wouldn't be asking those people to give up those behaviors completely. They'd have to learn how to control their addictive satisfaction by addressing the issues that caused them to abuse it.
But you don't need alcohol to live your life.
But substance was substance, right? Internet, food, sex, shopping. Any of those things would cause the disease to progress if you didn't address the problem, right?
Besides,I don't have a problem with alcohol! It's never been a problem in my life!
There was no way I was going to be stripped of everything, I said.
Yet, a growing concern was forming in the back of my mind. I didn't want to voice it because I didn't want anyone to think I was going to go along with this stupid idea.
If alcoholism is hereditary, then what if my kids had it? What if the doc was right and we were teaching them that alcohol, used for "medicinal purposes" was ok? They'd already been passed the depression gene, what if I'm also passing down the "substances can fix it" gene?
How much had alcohol affected our marital relationship that I hadn't looked at?
How much of my current memory loss, which was a growing concern, had to do with alcohol usage or the combination of meth/alcohol? Surely, I'd always been a forgetful person; adding age and multi-task parenting - forget it. But how much was because of chemical abuse? Was it repairable?
Yea....those were concerns, but damn it. I'm just not going to give up something that's not a problem - for me or anyone else is my life.
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