Hi! My name is Maggie and I am an alcoholic.  I probably repeat those words 4 -5 times a week at AA meetings.

Now I am sure people are muttering, "Why is she sharing this with us?"  Good question.

Well, I have shared a part of me with you already and being an alcoholic is another chapter in my life.  I am not ashamed to be one and I do not hide it.  I don't know where I "caught" this disease and I really don't care.  I have it, I am in recovery and I will be for the rest of my life. One day at a time.  I have found there is no cure for alcoholism.

I do know that when asked as a child, "And what do you want to be when you grow up, Maggie?"  I never once answered, "I want to be an alcoholic!"    The idea of becoming a nurse had been a dream of mine and I kept to that idea of being the newest Florence Nightingale until I went away to college, where I entered into a two year course of study which was to be followed by three years of nursing school.   For someone who didn't like schooling nor do particularly well at it, I was very ambitious.

Sadly to say, I found college to be the greatest place to party, not to study.  I began to find that alcohol and I had become good friends.  Being a shy person, and very introverted, drinking seemed to give me the courage to say and do things I had never considered before.  A sense of daring and devil-may-care attitude came over me and I often found I did not give a damn what anyone thought of my behavior.

Of course, my grades were going down and at that time, I met a guy.  Six months later, we eloped and that ended my childhood dream of becoming a nurse. Just like that!  Poof!

Becoming a nurse was no longer in my mind.  Marriage and having children sounded much more romantic.

But - it became a romantic haze that went on and on.  At times, it was exhilarating and fun; other times, it was downright sloppy and disgusting.  However, it didn't seem to matter which mood or actions came forth, I continued to drink on and off for many, many years.  Physically, the damage was minimal which was extremely amazing.  The amount of alcohol I consumed should and could have caused many health issues.  My only repercussion in the health field was constantly falling down and breaking bones.

Mentally, the toll was a great deal worse.  I was completely insane.  I knew my head was screwed on wrong but somehow; it never occurred to me that I had a problem with drinking.  I truly believed that other people drank the way I did.  Didn't everyone drink until they either passed out or went into a black out?   Wasn't it common for others to want a drink earlier and earlier in the day?  Truly I wasn't the only person to frequent different liquor stores so as not to be seen in the same one too many times.  And the local tavern I drank in was like Cheers; everyone knew my name.  Wasn't that an ordinary occurrence?

In other words, I was in complete denial that I was in deep doo doo because of my drinking.  I blamed what AA refers to as people, places and things.  If people would do things the way I wanted to, I wouldn't drink.  If the town I lived in was better, I wouldn't drink.  If I had a new car, TV or wardrobe, I wouldn't have to drink.  I could go on and on.  This is also referred to as the blame game.  I was good at it and never did I think I was to blame; I was the one who picked up that first drink.  If I hadn't picked up that first drink, I wouldn't have had the second, third, etc. I would not have gotten drunk.

The people I was hurting was another thing.  I was too selfish to think about the family, friends, co-workers, bosses and assorted people I met in my every day life who were affected by my drinking.  I was the harmed one I thought; no one else was influenced by a drunk who cared little for anything but for herself.

Sometime, later in my long life, I had left a trail of broken marriages, devastated children, a father who was enabling me by taking care of my family for me, numerous jobs I had had to quit because of absenteeism and lack of work, and worst of all, a shell of a person living in my body whom I did not know and did not care to know.  I was suicidal, in and out of rehabilitation facilities, under the care of a psychiatrist and in a deep, deep depression.  I had tried Alcoholics Anonymous several times, but in my self centered state, I could not identify with those "drunks" who seemed so happy and carefree.  How could anyone who drank too much be smiling and caring?

Walking in the door of that church, six years ago to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, was probably the hardest thing I had ever done.  I felt alone, vulnerable, afraid of what I might find, scared to death of what people would think of me, and I felt very, very old.  I was sixty four and I was miserable.

What I found beyond that door that night, was a miracle.  I found men and women who actually cared about me and put out their hands to me.  There was laughter and talking and suddenly I wanted to be a part of that.  I listened when people shared.  I heard things that I knew I had heard before but they sounded different this time.  I had a tiny glimmer of hope that I too, could find a smile to put on my face.  It was a beginning.

Since that night, I have found peace.  Something I never had before.  I found serenity, hope, willingness, a bit of humility, and the desire to have what other people with good sobriety had.  I wanted to be me, whoever I found "me" to be.  It didn't matter anymore if I had been lost and soulless.  I could find a life to share with my three daughters, five grandchildren and one great grandson (who now has a brother).  I had friends, good friends; I cared about them and they cared about me.  I found a Power greater than myself in whose hands I could place myself with trust and love.  I found Maggie!