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    Posted March 4, 2014 by
    This iReport is part of an assignment:
    Confessions from imperfect parents

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    My Alcoholic Self - Mom, wife, cancer-survivor, & recovering drunk


    CNN PRODUCER NOTE     mamaleesie shared this story with iReport because "I want to help drop the stigma of what an alcoholic woman looks like," she said. "Maybe if others see me and look at my life and journey, they may see bits of themselves there, too. They may be able to look at themselves with different eyes, now knowing that an alcoholic woman looks just like her."
    - Verybecoming, CNN iReport producer

    It's taken me almost a year to write this last installment to my series of commentaries (search MPR.org) about being the family of a deployed soldier. I look back on those writings now and can see the steady decline of self throughout.


    I have a feeling that some people will look on this installment and find my words deplorable. Others may find hope and strength. Obviously, I hope for the latter.


    Alcoholism is sneaky. It's embarrassing. It's shameful. How could I — the cancer-surviving girl with a beautiful family, lots of friends, and a quirky style — have fallen into its trap?


    I was a happy, slurry drunk. Not an emotional wreck. I was giggly and goofy. So, why did I stop? Because alcohol became something I planned my day around. Alcohol graduated from a "few beers for fun" to not eating during the day, so my buzz would come on quicker in the afternoon/evening. When I found myself waking up and willing my sick, clammy body not to drink again - only to head to the liquor store a few hours later - it was apparent that I had a problem.


    I became a shadow of myself. Things that I never would have done before, now became a new 'low'. Over and over.


    I celebrated (yes, celebrated - quietly) 20 months  of sobriety last week. The night of my last drunk was pretty bad ... bad  enough that it stopped me from drinking just one more after almost 30  years of drink. I still cringe when looking back on my actions. Who the heck was that girl?


    It's all still a sensitive topic for me, because I know I wasn't the best mom, the best wife, or even a good friend for the last few years of it. My main source of shame is on behalf of my kids. I can't imagine what things were like for them when Mommy was hung over. Sure, I made them food and got them to school (most of the time), but I was nonexistent, all the same. These sweet boys had to watch a progressive change in mom; a change that made her irritable, tired, sick, ashamed, and sad.


    My drinking started earlier and earlier in the day. I wouldn't get sloppy until after dinnertime. Then it was time for the par-tay! And that party consisted of me and Facebook. How fun! (said dryly).


    I recovered from my two cancers with beer. I coped with my husband's deployment to Afghanistan with beer. I drowned myself in beer.


    Withdrawing and ignoring the amount I drank was my method of coping. In truth, I know there are so many who live in silence — for fear of admitting the truths and feeling the backlash. And trust me, the fear of the backlash is almost worse than the actual thing. I now find freedom in admitting what I did; and that freedom is enabling me to move forward in hope.


    The pressure and loneliness of being a soldier's wife took me by surprise. My poor husband was in the farthest mountains of Afghanistan and had to maintain his focus, while having a feeling that his wife was burying herself. But, the few times we spoke, I would be my cheerful self, not wanting to make things harder for him. I didn't think about his return, though — and how much he would have to face when he got home. I am ashamed......as I should be.


    Yet, I am no longer the person stuck in that awful web of disease. I can actually remember my yesterdays — which is new for me.


    It will take a long time to work through my addiction, one day at a time. I'm spending my days now being present, being a part of my beautiful family. I can see them now, appreciate them, love them fully. I recognize how the active presence of Mom affects my boys — in a wonderfully good way.


    I will lose my family if I choose to drink again. I will lose myself if I make that choice. I need to remember that alcoholism can creep up in the most patient and deceptive way. As long as I remember that, I'm hoping to remain sober.


    I'm often amazed at the women I meet in recovery — women I never would have expected to see there. I'd truly thought I was the only one. I've learned to not pass judgment on people for pieces of their life I know nothing about.


    I always felt I would be missing out on something big if I weren't buzzed at a party. What would I do for my birthday? Or for New Year's? I couldn't fathom it. Now, I realize I was missing out. By drinking.


    My hope in writing this commentary is to encourage others, and remind you that you aren't alone. I had to face my addiction and make no excuses for it. My family is still intact because of the immense grace and love they have bestowed on me, as well as the hard work I continually put into being sober. Had I pointed a finger or swept my 'oops' under the rug yet again, I would be typing a very different story than the one written here.


    I am so incredibly grateful.

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