Nice recovery alcoholic for how many years?
I take it LizKat you are female too correct?
My recovery is forty years old this summer and it's true that if one pays attention to
this day, the days do stack up to decades... but one must bother to remember that it's one day at a time.
It was really really
really hot in the summer of '78 in New York, so that was part of the reason I quit using alcohol that year. You walk out of a NYC bar that's nice and A/C'd into the heat of a city's midsummer gig, still radiating the sun's gifts off the concrete at 2 in the morning. Even someone who made a point of drinking other people under the table could feel that blast. So one of those nights made me think the company-provided shrink I’d been seeing might have had a point. He kept saying “you know Liz I can’t really help you while we’re still talking through this veil of your denial of alcohol dependence as related to your problems.”
I decided the chats I'd been having with him might work better if I didn't feel like sh^t half the time. Maybe if I subtracted alcohol I would feel better. Maybe better enough to tell him to go to hell. LOL instead of that, I quit drinking just to prove I could do it. I lasted three or four days and then unaccountably found myself selecting a couple beers to go with the BBQ shrimp... and for once was honest enough to mention that to the shrink. He ending up writing me a “script” to an open AA meeting -- yeah, on his prescription pad. “They can help you with that. I can help you with the rest of this stuff. You have to want to do the work.”
I’d had the good fortune to end up referred to the help I needed via a company program that taught managers to refer subordinates to counseling on performance issues alone, i.e. "I dunno what your problem is and it's not my business but you need help getting it solved because I gotta run THIS business right here and you're messing up when you're not around and I need you".
There were only two options offered: get escorted to first appointment w/ a counselor (immediately, in the next half hour) or pack up my stuff and be escorted to the curb, end of job. The counselor would make an assessment and further referrals as needed, and my job would be protected while I followed up as suggested. The managers were re-trained every year on how to use the program and how to do the referrals. They had no part in the subsequent events nor knowledge of what transpired in the program, short of being informed if and when there were times the employee would be unavailable for regular work.
It worked. I voted for counseling. I had felt unemployable inside that veneer of having it all together. If I’d been fired I would have been unemployable just via lack of confidence to go job hunting. The prognosis is always better for people who still have some frameworks of job, family, friends around them when they enter treatment for alcoholism or other drug addiction. No one ever thinks he's "really" hooked on anything. We can die thinking that. Our surviving kin call it something else, you know. "Heart attack" or "hit by a taxi while crossing the street" is easier to say than "untreated alcoholism."
I'm a textbook example of someone who could easily have died without an employment-based referral to treatment of alcohol addiction, because I always had a job and never even thought of myself as a drunk. A party girl after work, sure. I could drink like “one of the boys” back in the days when fewer women worked in IT. I could go out after work and drink everyone else under the table and help them get a taxi home and then have one for the road and ride the train uptown by myself, often enough because I figured to pick up a sixpack "for the weekend" at the deli on the walk home from the subway. I must have had a lot of guardian angels. The fact is, women generally cannot overuse alcohol for long as some men are able to do without ending up dead; our different hormones can accelerate the ill effects of ethanol on our livers and cardiovascular systems.
So I regard myself as having been saved just by where I happened to be working when my tightwire act of being a star at work and being a messup at work became precarious. I'll credit myself with taking full advantage of the help and putting serious elbow grease into my own recovery, but the point is I would never have sought out treatment on my own. I came from the “Got problems? Pull up your socks and get over it" class. Without that referral on the job to counseling, I'd be dead now for probably thirty years or more. I was privately suicidal after three years of reaction to consecutive losses of people close to me, and treating all that with a sedative class drug in a fancy ale mug or expensive wine bottle... not a recommended treatment for depression. I needed a shrink, yeah. But most of all I needed not to be using alcohol and had no clue that was the case. I had thought the alcohol I used was keeping me glued together.
I am extremely lucky for that corner my company backed me into that day when my boss figured I'd annoyed him one too many times by being so erratic, even if I was still ranking as one of his "star class" performers. I stayed at that outfit for another four years and then hunted up a different job with more confidence in the different self I had become in the meantime. I then had another twenty years and more of opportunity in the workforce ahead of me, not to mention a lifespan extended past where I’d been headed. And... more fun.
One does know when alcohol or some other drug doesn’t really underwrite the fun any more. Sometimes it takes a carefully calibrated shove to get around to acknowledging it in a “safe space” -- and there’s possibly nothing more effective than a well designed corporate assistance program in getting someone to understand that their job’s on the line when their life is also on the line but they don’t know it yet. Successful use of the program saves them a valued employee and it saves the employee and his family a breadwinner. What’s not to like there... even on the bare economics of it?
It's too bad so many places have no program or toothless/useless ones that amount to a line in the company handbook: feel free to avail yourself of our medical group and counseling referral service if you feel you need help with a personal problem. I never thought I had a problem that needed some Big Brother poking into my biz. I never would have wandered up to the medical office with a complaint that I might have a drinking problem. How could someone with a drinking problem even have a job? That's where I was coming from. I would have been one of the lost ones behind that sort of corporate offering. I could have ended up begging on the street on a January night even six months after that hot night in July of '78. But... I didn't, thanks to someone in a corporation who managed to sell in an employee assistance program with teeth in it.