HONESTY

Step One of recovery

We admitted we were powerless over alcohol – that our lives had become unmanageable.

I refused to believe that I had developed a dependency on alcohol or drugs, as my consumption was minimal compared to the stereotypical image of an alcoholic sitting on a park bench. I prided myself on my level of self-awareness and control.

Although alcoholism is classified as a mental illness, my mental health struggles manifested long before I encountered issues with alcohol.

In my youth, alcohol was never a concern for me as I rarely indulged in it. Instead, my addiction lay with smoking cigarettes.

My parents led a wholesome, virtuous life free from alcohol and tobacco.

My issues with alcohol began when I started taking the weight of other people’s problems and trying to fix them.

Despite being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder in 2008 and being hospitalised in 2011, I rarely drank, only indulging on Friday nights when I went out.

In 2010, I was first introduced to red wine and port by a guy who indulged in them with his meals. Before that moment, my palate had only experienced the flavours of drinks mixed with spirits.

I preferred the flavours of rum and brandy over vodka, scotch, or whiskey.

Losing my job in March 2011, which I thought would be my lifelong career, was the wake-up call I needed to realise I had grown too comfortable and complacent.

Had I valued myself more, I would not have remained in this job for a decade, knowing it was detrimental to my overall well-being.

The burden of the accounts department and enduring relentless bullying from the managers was not worth the toll it took on me.

This wake-up call catalysed me to discover my true purpose and improve my life management skills. I was on the brink of taking drastic measures due to overwhelming debt, but this experience forced me to reevaluate my priorities and make positive changes.

After being admitted to the hospital following a suicide attempt to escape my pain, I discovered a new purpose in life by finding a job that allowed me to support and empower vulnerable individuals.

I eliminated all my debts in just one year, and the relief I felt was immeasurable.

I dedicated my time to helping young ex-offenders reintegrate into society, a job that I found fulfilling.

However, the weight of their struggles began to weigh heavily on my heart, leading me to use alcohol and drugs as a coping mechanism.

I hold no fault against these beautiful young spirits; my love and concern for them drove my actions.

As time went on, my drinking habits evolved, and I began mixing rum into my soft drinks during night shifts.

I began to experience a decline in my health, leading my GP to recommend that I take extended time off work for ill health.

I found myself unable to stop drinking, starting with just a bottle. Whether it was red wine, port, or any other alcohol I could find, I couldn’t resist indulging in whatever was within reach.

Despite four years of taking prescribed antipsychotics and antidepressants, I found myself still following the same destructive path. I began writing suicide notes and hallucinating and hearing things that were not real.

In April 2014, a week after I was signed off work, my father fell ill and then two months later diagnosed with terminal cancer.

I constantly sought solace in the bottom of the bottle.

Thankfully, I could function without being drunk when I spent my weekdays with my beloved Father. My world ended on 17 February 2017, 2 years and 9 months.

My Father ultimately lost the fight against cancer, but I found myself unable to mourn his passing healthily.

My GP, Psychiatrist, and parents all repeatedly cautioned me about the importance of giving up alcohol. Still, I was indifferent to their concerns as I had lost all desire to continue living.

Even after my dear father passed away, I refused to acknowledge my struggles with alcoholism. My consumption of red wine only escalated to the point where I always had three bottles stocked in my home.

The owners at my nearby liquor store still remember my past struggles with addiction, always willing to give me the best prices on my purchases.

When I was at home, I chose to only drink from mugs to steer clear of any suspicion of alcohol consumption.

I used to dispose of any evidence of having more than one bottle by tossing the empty ones down the chute in case I had any visitors.

I was aware of a problem lurking deep within me, but I was unwilling to acknowledge its existence.

Every week before heading to my psychodynamic therapy sessions, I always stopped by the pub for a red wine. At that point, I had already started drinking by before midday.

Next came the never-ending cycle of trips to the emergency room as I continued to harm myself.

What truly disturbed me was the negative impact my mental illness and alcoholism had on my mother, as she witnessed firsthand the challenges I faced.

Two haunting memories have remained etched in my mind, causing me unease.

Whenever my mother and I were out together, I would suddenly feel unwell and irritable. Without hesitation, she quickly guided me into the nearest pub to calm my agitation.

In the summer of 2018, I was perched on the wall at Westfield; I felt like I was slowly fading away. Beside me, my mother sat, her anxiety palpable as she debated whether to send me to the Emergency Department. I did go in the end.

Despite being warned by experts that my death was imminent, I came to the harsh realisation that I was utterly powerless to resist the urge to drink.

With the support and encouragement of a friend from my mother’s church, I decided to quit drinking. He guided me to a drug and alcohol rehabilitation centre and accompanied me to my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.

It was on the 4th of October 2018 that I decided to quit drinking. Little did I know that I was unknowingly putting myself at risk for a heart attack or stroke.

Quitting cold turkey was a dangerous decision, but I managed to push through it with the help of my doctor, who also prescribed me diazepam to ease the withdrawal symptoms.

Through sheer determination, unwavering faith, and the unwavering support of loved ones and the rooms, I managed to stay sober on 4 October 2018 and nicotine-free in April 2019.

Three years on, despite abstaining from alcohol and setting the drink aside, I found myself still grappling with the question of whether I was an alcoholic.

The internal debate about whether I could handle just one drink would always linger in my mind, but thanks to the grace of God, I never succumbed to it.

I acknowledged my lack of control over alcohol and drugs and realised that I could start reclaiming authority over my own life. Step One completed. ✅️

Even after six years, I must constantly remind myself of my powerlessness. It’s too simple to fall into a false sense of security and believe I am completely healed.

My commitment to the fellowship is unwavering, for within this community, I find my purpose in supporting others by sharing my experiences, resilience, and optimism.

Without it, I could not positively impact those around me.

KEEP COMING BACK

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change

The courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

I am responsible when anyone anywhere reaches out to the hands of AA, and for that, I am responsible.

My name is Natalie, and I am an alcoholic.

To thine own self be true.

Natalie M Bleau

Step two …. FAITH

******* to follow.