Voice in My Head

Looking back, I am amazed at the ingenuity—the craftiness—of the addictive voice that controlled my thoughts and behaviors for so many years. It is still there, and probably always will be, piping in unexpectedly and trying to catch me off-guard. It is just quieter now, patient but sporadic, and a lot less convincing.

A War with Myself

I remember worrying about my drinking in college, and yet I couldn’t conceive of actually stopping. Then as a young adult it became a concern as I put myself through many experiences I now see I would not have suffered, had I been sober. Yet still, I did not seriously consider stopping.

Then came bigger mistakes with more serious consequences: divorce and being a single mom of two boys under four years old. Did that push me to quit? No, in fact, my addictive voice assured me, and was the only one assuring me, that it would be okay… I just needed to drown my sorrows and numb my pain.

I didn’t seriously entertain the idea of quitting, or experiment with sobriety in any way until my late 30s and early 40s. It was getting to the point where anxiety and guilt were my main companions; I worried about my health and constantly felt guilty about the “mommy-needs-wine” ideology I was trying so hard to stay sold on.

I would go to my doctor and be as honest as a drinker can be about her drinking to a doctor. He would nod sympathetically yet not familiarly when I described how I felt at war with myself. How each morning I would go through the same monologue in my head about how I wasn’t going to drink that day, and then by mid-afternoon my addictive voice would rise and shine and start plotting how I was going to get my fill of wine that evening.

The doctor would tell me a few horror stories about alcoholics, and send me on my way with a prescription for Lexapro, or Zoloft, some counseling referrals, and paperwork that stated the diagnosis of “alcohol dependency”. I would leave the office feeling ashamed, resentful and hating my reality.

Those were the years when my addictive voice became stronger, and my body felt like a participant along for the nightmarish ride. When the arguments with myself became daily and pointless, because the part of me that wanted to change rarely, if ever, won. This was when that insidious voice would create every excuse imaginable to keep things the same, to keep me stuck in the pit. Excuses that ranged from “you’ve had a long day/week, it’s time to relax and unwind,” to “you can’t quit now, you have a ___________ (birthday, vacation, wedding, holiday, or even just a Tuesday) coming up.”

A Lost Spouse

One of the biggest lies I sold myself was that my husband wasn’t going to love me as much if I stopped drinking. That he had married a fun, party-girl, a creative soul who needed wine to inspire her and make her interesting and alive. That I would be boring if I quit. That it was my fault I was committing us both to Life with Me Sober.

I brought this up one “morning after” when things had reached a point where I felt I needed to be honest with him about my predicament. I will never forget his reaction. He actually laughed. Very inappropriately, I thought, as I bared my soul. But he truly thought I was joking with this worry of mine that I would be less of a spouse to him if I quit drinking.

Here’s what happened. He lost a wife who was largely emotionally unavailable and would pass out before 9 on a regular basis. One who was subject to angry, nonsensical outbursts and stupid fights. A wife who was often overwhelmed, grumpy and ill, and who regularly repeat herself or forget conversations from the night before. A wife who was, in short, a hot mess.

He gained a wife who is present and emotionally available. One who thinks enough of herself to take care of herself and make plans for the future. A wife who establishes goals, has plenty of energy, shows compassion for others and a has a functioning memory (for the most part). We haven’t had a serious fight in the seven months I’ve been sober. We both often comment on how glad we are that he lost his former wife.

Author’s Note: While the positive changes that have come with my sobriety are significant enough to make me feel like a new person, I am by no means complacent about my recovery and never will be. I have been down that road before, where the voice leads me to believe I can have a few drinks and go back to abstaining. This is never the case and I’ve had to learn the hard way, repeatedly. My humility and faith in God to give me daily strength fuels my journey, and will for the remainder of my days.