SLIPPERY THOUGHTS, PART 2

Sin will take you farther than you want to go, keep you longer than you want to stay, and cost you more than you want to pay.

“Do not gaze at wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup, when it goes down smoothly!  In the end, it bites like a snake and poisons like a viper.”

Proverbs 23:31-32

In my last post, “Slippery Thoughts, Part 1,” I mentioned that I suffered from automatic negative thinking.

That negative thinking developed because of consistent negative messages I’d received since childhood from family members—messages like “you’re so stupid,” “you’re dumb,” “you idiot,” “you can’t do anything right,” “no one wants to be with you,” “get out of here.”   I believed those negative messages—I thought I was horrible and unlovable.  I was terrified that people would reject me if they knew how terrible I was.  So, I developed a mask of cheerfulness and pleasantness to hide what I thought was the real me.

Another thing—those negative messages hurt me deeply, and that hurt usually expressed itself in anger.  So, in addition to trying to hide what I believed to be the real me behind a mask, I was also trying to hold back almost constant anger. 

After a while, this mask began to get too difficult to manage.  It felt heavy like it was made of concrete, and it was getting hard to keep it in place while I was always holding back this enormous anger at the same time. 

Then something happened that really changed things for me. 

I discovered that drinking alcoholic beverages—particularly wine—made me feel better.  LOTS better.  I even remember the exact moment I got hooked.  I was really stressed about a problem at work, and one evening I was having a glass of wine while I was thinking about this problem.  Suddenly there was like this CLICK, and I felt SO much better!  I remember looking at that glass of wine and thinking, “Wow, this stuff works GREAT!  Why didn’t I ever realize this before?”   I was thrilled!  I felt I had finally found the answer to my problems!  Drinking helped me feel cheerful and pleasant.  It took away my fear and anger.  It stopped all those slippery negative thoughts.  I wouldn’t need that mask anymore.

Or so I thought.

My drinking increased steadily over the years. 

I drank while I was a young married woman working in downtown Chicago to deal with the stress of the job.  When I quit work to have a family, I drank even more, to cope with being at home full-time with two small children.  And believe me, I’m not proud of that.  I drank whenever I felt angry, afraid, anxious, or sad—I even drank when I felt happy and excited.  As my drinking worsened, I had bottles of wine hidden all around the house so I would never be too far from sneaking a quick drink. 

What happened to the idea that drinking stopped all those slippery negative thoughts and took away my anger?  Where was the relief I used to feel when I first started drinking?  Well, I believed the lie that drinking solved my problems.  It didn’t.  It just covered them up.  My hurt feelings, all those negative thoughts, were still there.  So was the anger.  In fact, the drinking exacerbated everything that was bothering me.  I’d feel better for a while, and when sober again, I felt guilty and angry that I had been drinking so much.  What a trap!

One day, while feeling desperate, I cried out to God. I said, “Father, I know I’m supposed to depend on you for help, but the wine works so much faster than you do! Even so, please help me!”

My husband was very concerned about my drinking, but I wouldn’t listen.

I told him that I did not have a problem.  After all, I fulfilled my responsibilities in various roles—wife, mother, friend, church committee member.  I was a functioning alcoholic, so denying I had a problem was easy.  I thought alcoholics were bums, in the gutter, drinking whiskey from a bottle in a paper bag.  That wasn’t me.  I was respectable.  I could control my drinking.

But I couldn’t.  I was caught in a horrendous addiction, and it was torture.  I hated the way I felt.  I hated that my boys had a mommy who drank all the time.  Every morning I vowed I wouldn’t drink that day, but by mid-morning, I was dying for a drink.  I’d fight it off for as long as possible, but I usually was drinking before lunch.  I felt so lost and helpless.

 One day when my husband and I fought about my drinking, I wanted him to get off my back. So, I told him if he was so worried about me, why didn’t he pray about it.

And he did!  He prayed for two years, asking God to show me the truth about my drinking.  (If you’re praying for someone like me, don’t stop!  Keep praying!  God will answer.)  God answered his prayers using a book called “Dying for a Drink.”  It was on a book table at a church conference I attended, and it seemed to call to me. 

I reluctantly purchased it and shockingly found myself in the pages of that book.  It described me exactly. But wait–me an alcoholic? But I learned that it wasn’t what I drank or how much I drank that made me an alcoholic—it was why I drank.  And I drank to cover my feelings, my hurt, fear, and anger.  I heard another CLICK and finally, my eyes and heart were opened to the truth that I was an alcoholic.  The first CLICK plunged me into darkness. The second CLICK brought me into the light. That was April 26, 1989, and I have been sober since!

But that was just the beginning of my healing road.

Once I stopped drinking, all the negative thoughts, fears, and anger reared up again, and now I had no means to stop them.  So, I tried to overcome them by sheer willpower—I didn’t seek help from anyone or any group, like a counselor or Alcoholics Anonymous.  It was exhausting, and I was tired all the time.  I was falling into a deep depression and withdrew from being with people as much as possible.

Once when my boys were playing with friends in our living room, I started to lose it, so I went into the basement and sat on the floor in a far corner.  I curled up in a little ball and cried to Jesus, “Lord, I know you’re supposed to help me, but how can you possibly know how I feel?  You were never an alcoholic, so how can you help me?”  And He spoke to my heart, “No, I never was an alcoholic, but I do know how you feel and what you’re going through.  I know how to live life without using alcohol, and that’s what I’m going to teach you.”

Friends to the rescue!

A few of my good friends from church were very concerned about my behavior.  They tried reaching out to me, but I avoided them.  I stopped attending church and wouldn’t answer the phone or the door.  Except for taking care of my boys, who were 10 and 8 years old, I just lay in bed, doing only the minimum required of me.  I didn’t know how I was going to keep going.

One day, while the boys were in school, I was lying in bed.  The drapes were closed all over the house, and it was dark inside.  My phone had been ringing and ringing, but I didn’t answer it.  That was before cell phones and caller ID, so I didn’t know who was calling.  I just didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Suddenly, I heard voices of women walking around outside my house.  They were ringing my doorbell, pounding on the door, and tapping on the windows.  I ignored all that.  I didn’t want to see anyone.  The next thing I knew, the women’s voices were inside my house!  They had gone to my next-door neighbor to see if she had a key to my home, which she did.  The women called out to me, but I was locked in my bedroom and stayed there, refusing to budge. 

The women, who turned out to be my good friends from church, took turns talking to me through my bedroom door, pleading with me to come out.

I ignored them and wouldn’t respond, hoping they would give up and go away.  Finally, one of the women, a quiet, kind, loving type, asked why I wouldn’t come out.  I told her because nobody cared about me.  Then this quiet, kind, loving woman uncharacteristically shouted at me through the door: “That’s bull***t, Jean!!”  I was so startled by her shouting and swearing that I snapped out of my funk and opened the door.

They sat with me in my living room for a long time, praying for me, loving on me and giving me good advice about getting professional help for my depression.  I listened to them and promised I would follow up on their recommendation.

The beginning of the end of those slippery thoughts.

So that’s the story of my drinking days and coming to sobriety.  The journey continues, though, as next time, I’ll show you how I overcame those automatic negative thoughts and was healed, once and for all.  Please join me here for “Slippery Thoughts, Part 3.”