Drug Addiction Stories & Info

Everyone gears up for a new year. Resolutions abound as people try to commit to improving their lives. Yeah, well, the key word is “try”. The best place for many people to spend their New Years Eve would be an alcohol and treatment center. All through the year alcoholics struggle with their addictions knowing that the next year won’t be any different unless they do something. My cousin was this way, too. This is my alcohol addiction story.

The year the family decided to do something is one few people will forget. It started at Thanksgiving and continued through Christmas. No drinking was allowed. Previous to this, all holidays ended in disaster. There would be arguments, fights and tears. My cousin would drink herself sick every holiday. Everyone knew she needed to be in an alcohol and treatment center, except her. That particular year, the family took action. Surprisingly, everyone stuck to the game plan, which was: no alcohol and no putting up with drunken episodes. If my cousin was drunk, she couldn’t come in. Period. All of us wanted to see her in an alcohol and treatment center.

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My alcohol addiction story continues. My cousin was livid! She swore (literally) up and down outside of the house when she wasn’t allowed in. The cops even had to be called a couple of times. Was it stressful? Yes and no. Surprisingly, the family was much less tense without my cousin around, except when she was making a scene. Then, it was stressful, but it worked out in the end. Thanksgiving was tough, but Christmas was even tougher. The entire time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was hard. There were so many times my cousin would show up drunk and be stopped at the door.

We kept telling her that she needed to be in an alcohol and treatment center, and until she got help, she was not welcome to join the gathering since she was drunk. When I am saying alcohol addiction story, I mean addiction! She continued to drink, blaming now the family. Christmas was the final show-down. She showed up drunk, as usual and caused such a scene outside. The neighbors even called the police. Together, with the police, we convinced her she needed help. That very day, on Christmas, she went into an alcohol and treatment center. By New Years Eve, she had all of the alcohol out of her system and was trying to straighten her life out. My alcohol addiction story has a happy ending. The following holiday season, my cousin was there, enjoying the holidays without alcohol! She truly did start off a new life with that new year.

Narconon Trois-Rivieres can help you end your addiction

We’ve been talking online, catching up.  She’s doing good.  She is happily married, kids in school, loves her job and is following her dreams.  I discovered all this over those first few weeks after I found her on Facebook.  Our messages always seem to be Hit and Run between her schedule and mine.  Then, a status on her wall got me to thinking and I private messaged her.

The Status: “Son was in from school over the weekend and we joked about drinking as he teased me once again about not being an alcoholic or into any of that.  I told him I should have been an alkie then maybe he would have turned out better.  Since he’s in college, I think he turned out fine.”

So I wrote her and told her that I had not been completely upfront with her.  I told her that the years since our breakup had been filled with a demon of my own: I was an alcoholic. 

I did not expect to hear from her for a while but just minutes later she answered my message with one of her own: “Hey, Donny, I’m sorry.  I did not know when I put that on my wall or I would not have joked as I did.”

I wrote back: “Stacy, no problem, okay?  You didn’t know and it was your wall to write on as you chose.  I just wanted to be honest with you.”

We wrote back and forth then about the paths our lives had taken.  We touched briefly on our past relationship.  She wrote: “I know we kinda liked each other back then and I am so sorry that things have not turned out the way you wanted in life, but you still have time to make your own dreams come true, my friend.”

I couldn’t keep it in any longer.  “Stacy, I was in love with you.  You were the one in like.”

But that conversation written through Facebook private messages worked its magic on me and with her encouragement, I reached out and made a special phone call.  No, not to her, but to a rehab facility close by.  With her messages before me on the computer screen, I told the person on the other end of the phone my story.  Then I asked with the fear of rejection: “Can you help me?”

He assured me they could.  That was nearly a year ago.  This week, I saw another status on Stacy’s wall.  “Sometimes I feel like I don’t make a difference in the world but I hope my kids know that I love them.”

I sent her a message.  “Stacy, your kids know you love them and yes, you do make a BIG difference.  I’ve been sober eleven months now and you have a lot to do with that.  I’m following my dreams now.  Thank you, my friend.”

In 2005, I began hiding a secret that not even my family realized was going on at first.  I became an alcoholic.  A drinking problem is easy to hide at first.  I was one of the last people someone would suspect.  I volunteered, I was a hands-on stay at home mother of four and both my husband and our older one were proudly serving in the military.

Then our older of the four boys was hurt in Afghanistan.  Months of physical therapy and dealing with VA issues took its toll.  We were so grateful our son was home.  However, when his just younger brother announced he wanted to join, I was devastated.  When the twins also announced their intentions to join after their graduation from high school in three years, I prayed every night.  How could I have four in harm’s way and not end up losing one of them? 

My husband enjoyed a simple drink once in a while in the evenings and I would sometimes have one with him.  But as time went on and my fears and worries increased, I took to having one before he came home, one that looked like a simple glass of soda and one with him.  These increased more and more as the days went by.

It wasn’t long before I began drinking shortly after the boys left for school and my husband for work.  A quick nap in the afternoon and I was ready to begin again.  I managed to not have a drink on the days my older one had to see the doctor or have P.T.  I thought I was keeping it well under wraps till my injured combat veteran son became my hero once again.

He sat me down across from his wheelchair and told me he needed me to be there for him.  He said he did not know how he could get through his VA issues and his medical procedures without me.  This young man who had fought bravely for his country was asking me to be there for him. 

He told me he realized I had been drinking quite a bit.  It had not been the secret I had thought it was.  Ashamed, I hung my head.  He took my hand and told me he needed me to be there for him and be strong and I could not do that if I was walking around in an alcoholic haze all day.  He needed me to be his battle buddy.

My son saved my life that day and turned my alcohol problem around.  That afternoon, he took me to an AA meeting and in a matter of weeks, I was able to turn around the previous year of drinking.  It was hard, but every time I yearned for a drink, I remembered my son’s words: “I need you to be my battle buddy, Mom.”

The whiskey disappeared from our home.  My husband no longer desired a drink in the evenings.  Turns out, I had not kept it from any of my family.  It’s been five years and thankfully, my three younger sons opted for college.  My older one just started school himself on the GI Bill and is dating a lovely young woman he met at the hospital, one of the physical therapists.  They just announced their engagement.  Thanks to my son being my own battle buddy after his combat tour, I will be here to celebrate the wedding, and sober enough to have a wonderful, memorable day.