I liked this dark house, this dreary building in which relief resided. I was on the doorstep of self-destruction.
I can pinpoint one life-changing decision that I made mid-separation (MS) that prevented me from entering the front door of self-destruction. This was the darkest time of my life (even more so than when i lost my mom at 18). I was helpless, hopeless, hurting, and and living as a hermit. I wasn’t necessarily suicidal, but I was sure in the deepest, darkest pit I had ever been in.
On both sides of my family we have history of alcoholism. Both of my grandfathers were alcoholics and their deaths were related to their disease. For the non-depressed me, I like an occasional drink. However, the darkest-pit me was another story. Like a rapidly spinning whirlpool, the allure of strong drink was pulling me in very quickly. My ex-wife and I had a cabinet full of some strong stuff. I found myself being irresistibly drawn to that cabinet throughout the day. I needed some sort of help, or else it would have been curtains for me. It wasn’t a night or two of drunkenness I was afraid of. A person can easily recover from that. I knew that had I given in to my desire, my singular alcoholic focus, all bets would have been off long-term. I would have given myself completely to the bottle. I think that would have easily ushered in the possibility -no, probability- of suicide. I was so depressed, I think the complete trajectory of my life would have been altered forever.
During this impossible season of my life, my sister made it a point to call me every week to see how I was doing, to let me vent, to let me cry. For this, I am eternally grateful. During one of these weekly phone calls, without premeditation, I suddenly thought to ask my sister for help. I requested that the next time she called me that she would ask me if I had dumped out all of my alcohol. Every drop. She agreed.
Immediately after hanging up the phone with her, I walked to my favorite cabinet of the house. One by one, my bottles were emptied down the drain. Vodka, Southern Comfort, gin, and others quickly disappeared.”Why is all the rum gone?” you might ask. Because Captain Jack Sparrow needed it to be completely gone. And, so it was. Every drop. When my sister called the next week, I was able to honestly report to her that all the alcohol was out of my house.
While the funk and depression that I was in still was there, loud and clear, I was able to function and make some important decisions (moving out of state) without the impeding of alcohol. Had I not made the decision to get rid of the alcohol in my house, I would not have found my way to my life-giving support network in Colorado Springs. I am convinced I would have stayed in my hermit state, alone, and with the lights quickly dimming.
That guard rail that I set up, then, of getting rid of alcohol for a time, made a HUGE difference in my recovery. I needed to set some boundaries in order to protect myself. I also needed the help of my sister to make sure I set up that guard rail.
So, for you, you might not have the same issue with alcohol that I had. But what does the doorstep to destruction look like for you? Feeling tempted to spend every penny you have to try to make yourself feel better? Do you feel the need to sleep with every woman you encounter to somehow make yourself feel better? What pitfalls can you see before you now, thinking objectively?
I urge you to talk with someone trusted (heck, if you don’t have a friend in the world to help you, send ME a message!), and brainstorm together things that could potentially wreck your life while your not at your best and brightest. Brainstorm together some ways to eliminate those pitfalls so that you don’t make decisions you’ll regret later. Lay down some strict guard rails, and make sure to have some help, some accountability.
This whole exercise isn’t a matter of turning you into a prude. It’s not to turn you into a teetotaler. It’s not to make you become a tightwad with your money. It’s to help you protect yourself from yourself during a time when you are your own worst enemy. You’ll thank yourself later. I promise.
For me, now that I’m a few years beyond my divorce, and am now happily married and with a 9-month old son, I’d like to report that I enjoy an occasional drink. Have I changed my guard rails? Oh, you better believe it. But have I gotten rid of them? Heck no. Since I’ve recovered from my divorce and was on the path to becoming a healthy human being, I set a new guard rail up. Again, not to be a killjoy for myself, but to protect myself. I have set for myself a strict drinking limit, whether I’m home or elsewhere. I will not have more than two drinks. Period. Could I handle more? Yeah, for sure. But I don’t even want to go anywhere near that old house called destruction, the place of which I liked to hang out at the doorstep. Am I okay with these guard rails? Yes. I remain in control at all times.
***What are some pitfalls you see before you? Do you currently have any guard rails set up for yourself? Do you sense the need for some?*****
Posted on November 2, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged alcohol, beer, depression, divorce, gin, recovery, remarriage, separation, Southern Comfort, suicide, suicide prevention, vodka. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.