A SOCIAL WORKER’S RECOVERY

Having grown up in a strict religious family where my grandfather was a preacher and we attended church three times a week, I had always believed that I was immune to the “evils of alcohol”. I learned differently when I was fifteen years old and planning to move away from my hometown and my lifelong friends. They threw me a going-away party, complete with warm malt liquor and cheap pop wine. I drank alcoholically from this day forward as I couldn’t believe the exciting feelings and giddy sensuality of that high. I also discovered the consequences of my drinking on that day as the police arrive to raid the party and we all raced away to avoid being arrested. I remember walking for many hours afterward and sadly saying my good-byes to the neighborhood and my many memories of the park and my childhood companions. Drinking and loss have always been synonymous in my life.

I hit bottom during the summer of my sophomore year of college. I was dating one in a series of alcoholic women and we were having a close relationship with our friend alcohol. During that summer, I received news that my grandmother had died. She was the person who I loved most dearly as she had raised me and cared for me when I was a child. I binged for days after learning she was gone and lost a job at a fast-food restaurant because I didn’t bother to show up for several days. I couldn’t believe how unfeeling my manager was being, and I loudly told him so as I stormed out that last day. Later that month, I began to have severe stomach problems and was admitted to the emergency ward at the university hospital for a bleeding ulcer. I had no clue that this could be related to my drinking nor did the multiple internists suggest my alcohol abuse was what brought me in. Yet, some part of me must have known because I swore off the booze after being discharged. Still not seeing the obvious, I switched addiction easily to pot and hashish.

I completed undergraduate and then graduate school and moved to California in 1980. Two years later the drugs also stopped working for me. A very dear friend of mine, a drug and alcohol counselor, was killed in a car crash two weeks before I was to visit her at Christmas. I fell into a severe depression and stopped functioning in my work and my relationships. I broke up with my girlfriend and later quit my job as I had started drinking heavily again. A job and relationship change were the quick fixes that allowed me to continue my addiction. I became obsessed with work and had frequent run-ins with my supervisor and co-workers. I also began to have multiple medical problems again and found myself missing many days of work.

It was at this time that I was encouraged to take some substance abuse counseling courses. The director of the program was a marvelous mixture of knowing mentor and compassionate friend, and she helped me to confront my denial about being an alcoholic/addict. She related that being in the helping professions and trying to recover is one of the most difficult tasks, but that others have been able to share their strength and hope in the field. That was when she recommended that I talk with a member of Therapists In Recovery. I called him and we had a pleasant lunch during which he shared his story and I reluctantly shared mine. He invited me to join the group and see if it would be helpful to me. He also shared with me something that I had not known until then: I didn’t have to recover alone.

That was over two years ago and I am very grateful to the director and Therapists In Recovery for being put in my life at the time I needed them. I have found a men’s group that is my home group and a sponsor who I call regularly. I have a wonderful marriage and a thriving private practice of psychotherapy, employee assistance counseling and drug/alcohol program consulting. I encourage any mental health professional who is struggling to recover from alcoholism/drug addiction on their own to take advantage of Therapists In Recovery. Keep coming back – it works!