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.
