My Name is Tonya and I am an Alcoholic.

....those 9 words have been a long time coming.

 

The word "Alcoholism", though it does innately have a negative connotation as does any disease name-"Cancer," "Obesity," "Emphysema," "AIDS"-has always been, to me, just another medical term. As a nurse, I fully understand the pathophysiology and progression of the disease. I have known several alcoholics on the fringes of my social sphere but my primary emotions toward them were those of pity and even disdain at times for their apparent selfishness and lack of self control. Growing up, my mother had several boyfriends with alcoholism-one of which I loved dearly-so I was familiar with the dreadful devastation alcoholics left in their wakes. During my time as an ER nurse, I was often baffled by the men and women who were handcuffed to my gurneys to receive medical clearance before heading off to jail or detox; or the homeless who would admit themselves on the bitter, winter nights to receive a warm bed and IV sobriety (if I recall correctly, we called the saline/vitamin cocktail "banana bags"-because of their distinctive yellow color-or "Rally Packs"-which always made me think of the phrase "Rally the Troops"-a thought I found ironic when, in the morning, they had "rallied" enough to desire a drink again, ripped out their IVs and left Against Medical Advice (AMA).

 

Attach the word "Alcoholic" to my name, however, and the meaning transforms from something evoking empathy to that of absolute and utter devastation.

 

My life looked nothing like these tragedies. I used to watch the show "Intervention" (which I now realize was a subconscious form of justification of my alcohol use) and think "What is wrong with these people?" or "How could they let their lives spin so far out of control?" As they unfolded the progression of their disease, I would be amazed at how deep their "Bottom" could go. Loss of vital relationships, jobs, housing and self respect weren't enough. They clearly had the disease of alcoholism. No one is born with the desire to grow up and become a shameful, untrustworthy, dangerous person. Obviously, something greater than their own desires, intentions and will power was in control.

 

As for me, I am a 32 year-old, stay-at-home mom with a great family and lots of genuine, trustworthy friends. Although I could manage my finances better, I am by no means destitute. I live in a beautiful house, have nice clothes, and drive a nice car. I am well educated and my thoughts are often sought for advise. I generally take good care of myself-I'm active in church and participate regularly in personal/marriage enrichment courses and Bible studies; I eat a healthy diet with organic, preservative-free foods as much as possible; I don't smoke or do drugs; I even recently started working with a personal trainer (despite my long-standing loathing of exercise)....so why then, was I putting alcohol in my body every day-despite all the negative consequences?


Plain and simple-My brain functions just like the patients I used to treat in the hospital. Day after day, I was willingly consuming a substance that made me feel sick, impaired my ability to function as a mother and wife, worked against my weight loss and sleep goals, cost a ridiculous amount of money and blurred my judgment so much that it somehow became OK to drive with a "good buzz" (drunk) with my precious babies in the car!

No one wants to live this way. I am convinced now more than ever that Alcoholism is ABSOLUTELY a disease, of which I am not in control.  I know every alcoholic's journey looks different......this is mine.