I relapsed. On alcohol. With all its catastrophic consequences. I almost lost my family and next time, if there is a next time, I will. I suppose there are a million excuses I might give for why I relapsed, but the honest truth is that I just like to get high. Problem is, I don't like the consequences. Among other problems, there is the fact that once I start it is almost impossible for me to stop.
I made several obvious mistakes leading up to the relapse. I stopped going to meetings, I isolated myself from friends, I isolated myself from my wife and family, I stopped praying.
Luckily I only drank for four days or so. On the last day, I sat in the cheapest motel in town, glass in hand, and prayed. In addition to praying, I had also talked to my psychiatrist and my wife. I had reached out for help. I dumped out the booze.
In short order, after I had stopped, there was a whirlwind of Positive activity. I went to a meeting and admitted that I had relapsed. I got out of the motel and into a basement apartment in the home of some members of my church. I went to a meeting with my wife, my psychiatrist, and a couples counselor. I jumped back into recovery with renewed vigor. I jumped into my relationship with my wife with renewed vigor. And I ramped up the therapy with my psychiatrist.
Interestingly, this whole mess has produced a renewed closeness with my wife. We are planning to renew our wedding vows. With a twist. One of those vows will be that if I drink again, it will mean the end of our marriage. Our new vows will be a definition of what each of us will be bringing to the table, and of what each of us expects the other to bring to the table.
I am filled with gratitude. Not for having drank. But for the unexpected shakeup in my life and marriage. I am feeling a deep sense of joy and gratitude because I am still alive and that I get another chance to stay that way.
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