“When we drank, goal setting felt impossible because we were so trapped by the ‘now appeal’ of alcohol. All we could think about was where our next drink was coming from, itching to get off work so we could swing by the liquor store. We didn’t have the mental capacity to consider goal setting realistically. Now that you’ve been sober for a few months, you can visualize a future, make plans, and set goals. Isn’t that crazy?”
After I said that mouthful, I grinned at my client. She sheepishly smiled back as she processed that what I was saying was true.
Marc Lewis, in The Biology of Desire: Why Addiction is Not a Disease, talks about “now appeal,” which is the idea that choosing our substance of choice instead of abstaining at a moment of craving is driven by dopamine uptake, so immediate rewards (the alcohol and/or the other drugs you want to consume) are more compelling than long-term rewards (not pissing off your partner who you love dearly for the 10th time). Now appeal explains why when you have a craving, you feel like you will die if you don’t drink right then and there because alcohol hijacked your brain. Your brain mistakenly thinks you need alcohol to live instead of essentials like food, so it goes into survival mode and freaks out if you don’t have alcohol now.
Once you’re sober for some time, your brain starts to rewire itself, and this panicked need for a drink eases up. You can come up for air and look out onto the horizon, and what do you see? Your future. What a gift.
Once sober, you can start to set goals for anything you want, which is my favorite thing to do with clients. If we were able to stop drinking one of the world’s most addictive substances, we can absolutely do anything.
Speaking of goals, here is a worksheet to help you walk through goal setting and of course, if you want further support, schedule a consultation for 1:1 coaching with me here.
I’ve been very open about the losses I’ve been dealt and how, early on, I wondered if I could recover from a broken heart. “Getting sober AND working through grief, ha!” I thought.
Despite my doubts, I knew that if I trusted the process of getting sober, everything else would fall into place. I just had to stay the course.
Today I witnessed my partner, a single father who has raised his 12-year-old son by himself, graduate from business school with his MBA. I sat side by side with his son, chatting and taking in the special moment. When the music playing switched to a violin instrumental of Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro” I whispered/squealed to his son, “OMG, they’re playing Lady Gaga!” To which he replied, “Lady Caca?” We both covered our mouths to stifle our giggles.
What a silly and precious moment.
When the moment came that I saw my partner walk the stage, I flashed back to this piece that I wrote that I had written as part of a larger piece I published in the newspaper:
“My dream is to attain long-term sobriety, and I believe one day I will, but just for today, I choose to live in recovery until I fall asleep. I will fight my alcoholism daily…I will live a good life. I will have a family, find peace and STILL be of service to others, just not in the way I had planned.”
Today is exactly what I wished for years ago when I wrote those words and put my trust that things get better when we recover. Today is part of a continuing to-be-revealed answer to the question I often asked myself, “Why the hell is this not working out?” or “Why is this so difficult?” The things that didn’t work out for me before didn’t work out because they weren’t supposed to. What was meant to work out for me, is revealing itself daily. I just have to stay the course.
If you’re early on in trying to quit or wondering if quitting drinking is worth it, I’m here to tell you that it’s worth it.
Everything you think you’re going to lose, or everything that you already lost, you only stand to gain it a million times better by taking that leap of faith.
If you’re a teacher, you are working in a climate that has gotten exponentially more challenging with time. Summer was likely a great relief for many, but the lack of structure can lead to more unhealthy behaviors. If you already had a questionable relationship with alcohol, you might have been using your time off drinking even more than you did before. Now that it is time for many of you to start getting ready to return to your school buildings, you may be worrying if your drinking is a problem. Is your alcohol consumption at the point where you may need help but are scared that it’s too late to do anything about it because you can’t miss work?
“But, I’m a professional. I do well at work and take care of all my responsibilities (finances, kids, family, pets, etc.).” None of that is relevant. When it comes to alcohol abuse, what you accomplish despite your drinking does not negate the fact that your relationship with alcohol is a problem.
The National Institutes of Health (NIH) uses guidelines to determine if a person falls on the spectrum of alcohol use disorder. It is essential to highlight the word spectrum because one person’s problems with alcohol may look drastically different from another. Identifying alcohol abuse is not about comparing your drinking to someone else’s and being tempted to say, “Well, I am not as bad as her, so I must not have a problem.” This analysis is about your health and your life. This reflection needs to be about you solely. Examine what your thought process is and what your behavior is when it comes to drinking. Is it an issue?
Here are some questions the NIH provides to ask regarding drinking.
In the past year, have you:
Had times when you ended up drinking more, or longer, than you intended? More than once wanted to cut down or stop drinking, or tried to, but couldn’t?
Spent a lot of time drinking? Or being sick or getting over other aftereffects?
Wanted a drink so badly you couldn’t think of anything else?
Found that drinking—or being sick from drinking—often interfered with taking care of your home or family? Or caused job troubles? Or school problems?
Continued to drink even though it was causing trouble with your family or friends?
Given up or cut back on activities that were important or interesting to you, or gave you pleasure, in order to drink?
More than once gotten into situations while or after drinking that increased your chances of getting hurt (such as driving, swimming, using machinery, walking in a dangerous area, or having unprotected sex)?
Continued to drink even though it was making you feel depressed or anxious or adding to another health problem? Or after having had a memory blackout?
Had to drink much more than you once did to get the effect you want? Or found that your usual number of drinks had much less effect than before?
Found that when the effects of alcohol were wearing off, you had withdrawal symptoms, such as trouble sleeping, shakiness, restlessness, nausea, sweating, a racing heart, or a seizure? Or sensed things that were not there?
If, after reading this list, you are uncomfortable with the fact that you may have a problem with alcohol, I first want to say that you’re not alone. I taught successfully for thirteen years and won numerous awards, and at the end of my drinking career, I drank a fifth of bourbon a night and excelled the next day at work. I’ve been sober since November 28, 2020, so I promise you that it gets better and that knowing you have an issue can only serve your higher good.
Maybe you have tried to stop drinking only to find that, for different reasons, you really could not control it on your own. You’ve heard of people going to treatment facilities, but now that school is around the corner, you feel like your opportunity to get assistance is gone. You think that you might have to wait for another break in the school year to come.
“Who is going to cover my classes?” “I don’t want to/don’t have the mental capacity to write these sub plans.” “I worry about my classroom.” “Will this go on file against me?” “I’ve never been to rehab. I’m scared to go.” “I don’t want to leave my kids at home.” “What if I lose my job?” “What if no one watches my children/pets at home?”
I, too, have said most of the above, but it is important to note that eventually if you don’t stop drinking, many of the fears listed will materialize anyway. You will decrease the likelihood of experiencing significant losses and consequences by going to treatment for a week or several weeks.
There are many resources and avenues for getting help outside of a treatment facility, and you can find those here. However, for those considering going into a facility, please be aware that if you have worked in the same district for over a year, you may be eligible to take advantage of the Family Medical Leave Act (FMLA) program with the U.S. Department of Labor. This program also applies to employees at agencies at the local, state, and federal levels. The specific line of the act that would apply to entering a treatment facility is “a serious health condition that makes the employee unable to perform the essential functions of his or her job.” Mental health IS health, so a problem with addiction IS a serious health issue. In my personal experience, I used FMLA as a public school teacher when I needed treatment.
So what is FMLA? It is a federal program that, upon approval, allows individuals to take up to twelve weeks (or twenty-six, it depends on the circumstances) off of work to take care of different medical needs. This time off is usually NOT paid time off (not ideal, I know). However, the employee keeps all their benefits, and their job is guaranteed for them when they return. You are also protected by confidentiality, so your employer cannot disclose the nature of your absence to others.
When I used it, my employer was only allowed to say that I was “on leave,” my accounts, such as my school email (your district may do something different), were put on pause until I returned. Also, when I say employer, I mean your human resources department. If you disclose your situation to your school principal, that is your choice, but the HR department cannot tell your principal why you are on leave. In my case, I did not write any lesson plans, either.
I share this information about FMLA because I was unaware I could use it when struggling with alcohol. I learned about it when I ended up in a hospital and the doctor on call recommended that I enter into treatment. My first reaction was, “No. I can’t. I’m a teacher.” He proceeded to explain FMLA to me, and when my family contacted my district’s human resources department, the HR staff confirmed that with the proper documentation, I was eligible for it.
Many teachers have lost their jobs due to drinking, and if they haven’t lost their jobs, they have suffered other consequences, too. When I taught, I built my schedule around alcohol so that I could teach, lesson plan, grade, drink, pass out and get up only to repeat the same cycle every day for years. Alcohol dictated everything for me, and it made me physically very sick, yet I still successfully put up appearances of doing well. I was quietly letting it kill me. You don’t have to spend another school year suffering if you are still teaching. I let my problem spiral to the point where I had to leave, but you don’t have to.
Jessica Vivian Dueñas, beloved teacher, community member, friend, sister, daughter, and aunt, passed away on May 25th, 2020 at the age of 35 in a tragic car accident. She had a great passion for education and community engagement, and a great dedication to her family. Jessica leaves behind her mother, Amable, her siblings, Sandra, Lorena, Grettel, Victor, and Sofia, and her friends, colleagues, students, and her dog, Cruz …
We have a lot of assignments in treatment designed to teach us to not drink or use drugs, but writing my own obituary wasn’t an activity given to everyone. A tech, this older lady named Lisa, felt I should write it given my “recklessness.” The process of starting to draft it was awkward and in fact painful. The thinking of those “left behind” knotted my stomach as I visualized each crying face. I could imagine my middle school student James. He was usually smiling, often with his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh at something silly he just did or saw some other kid do. I pictured a woman, his mother, walking into the room he’s in and saying, “I’m so sorry baby. Ms. Dueñas died yesterday.”
Suddenly, his almost-shut-from-laughing squinted eyes soften, his cheeks that stood high from smiling drop down, and water wells up so much in his eyes that the single tear he was holding back slowly starts to roll down his face, past his nose, and onto his lip.
“Whatchu mean, Momma?”
She sniffles. “I’m sorry baby.” She leans over to embrace him and at that moment I’m so broken at the thought of another’s pain that I shake my head like a dog does to bring myself back into the present moment. Phew.
Photo from WDRB news, Louisville. With a student
I was in the fireplace room. Our women’s group usually did most of our sessions in that space. Today we had to meditate but instead, we were all doing different things. No one actually meditated because who knew how to sit still unless you were drunk or high and basically knocked out of consciousness?
Some women like Denise decided to take a nap because she was still detoxing. She ended up here after her husband found her on the floor next to a shattered bottle of wine. She had just shared in a group that she was a full-time mom in her thirties who loved “Mommy needs wine” jokes until she realized that in fact, Mommy needed wine. I’m not a mom, but I nodded my head as soon as she spoke because I knew that needing feeling well.
Shanika walked over to the bookshelf, pulled a book at random, sat down, and cracked it open. It was nice seeing her back from the other psych hospital. Calm and settled.
On her first day here she was under the influence of God knows what. She had the wildest eyes, looked at me and immediately said, “I know you! Where do I know you from?!” Oh no, no, no no no! My secret! I panicked. Then that same night at our evening meeting when we did our prayer circle to wrap up, Shanika grabbed my friend’s ass in the middle of the prayer with no hesitation. She just latched on. I saw his eyes open wide and then we made eye contact. Clearly he didn’t know what to do; shit, I didn’t know what to do, so I just looked at him, raised my eyebrows, and shrugged my shoulders. It was funny, to be honest. We were trapped in a circle of prayer, so what were we supposed to do?
“I’m sorry to interrupt your connection with God here, but Shanika’s grabbing my ass?” Thankfully the circle eventually ended and off she went. He and I looked at each other and laughed, perhaps a bit uncomfortably.
It turned out Shanika was hallucinating and having a psychotic break. Her breaking point with our facility occurred when she climbed onto her roommate’s bed in the middle of the night and picked at her because she was covered in “ants.” The scuffle caused security to run to the room and quickly snatch her up. Shanika was gone for a few days to complete her detox in a higher-security psychiatric facility.
Those are the type of hospitals that take your bra from you so you don’t stab someone with your underwire. You can’t have shoelaces so you can’t hang yourself. It’s the type of place where techs have to lay eyes on you once every ten minutes even when you’re asleep to make sure you haven’t suddenly died. You’d be in a deeply medicated sleep and abruptly wake up to a flashlight in your face.
I’ve been in those places too.
So to see her back with us in the fireplace room, settled, calm, and quietly reading was a testament to how we can slowly come back from the dead after a few days of being in rehab. She didn’t “recognize” me anymore either. My secret was still safe.
Once we finished “meditating,” a social worker came to work with us to discuss relapse prevention planning. Essentially, we were going to sit there and outline everything that triggered us to get drunk or high, and then a list of ten things to do instead. As I listened to her I tilted my head to the side and scratched my scalp a little bit. I raised my hand.
“Yes, Jessica?” She turned to me.
“This isn’t my first time writing a relapse prevention plan, but I just don’t get how it’s supposed to work. I mean, I’ll be honest, if I want to drink, I’m not going to say, ‘Hmm, where is my prevention plan?’ That just doesn’t make sense,” I said.
She paused. “Sure, that’s a great point! So you put it on sticky notes and you place them all over your home!” Alrighty, I thought to myself, shaking my head.
Inside I wanted to scream, Don’t you get it? I’m addicted to alcohol, so my default setting is drinking! If not drinking were as easy as opening up some sort of almanac reference guide, filling out a handout, or looking at a sticky note, we wouldn’t be sitting here filling in the blanks on this paper in this treatment facility right now, would we?!
Instead, I just went ahead and started to fill it out.
Triggers:
grief, sadness, loneliness…anger, darkness…joy…light…anything! Better scratch those last few items. I didn’t want to keep them there and be accused of being cynical. I knew how these places operated. The social workers keep notes on patients, their behavior, their participation. Good behavior gets sent to the discharge team and puts folks on a go home list. Poor behavior keeps you around longer.
Removing my makeup to reveal a hidden black eye. I was always good at masking myself.
You can’t just leave treatment one day because you think you’re good to go. The only ways out are to either hop the fence and run, break the rules badly enough to get kicked out, run out of insurance, or wait until they let you go, and that is contingent on you finishing the program to their satisfaction.
I didn’t have the energy to run or rebel, and as a state employee I had good health insurance, so my only way out was to comply. I was down to my last couple of weeks and it was nice to be on a little sober vacation. I had actually made friends with some people, but I wanted to go home. However, I didn’t know if I was in fact ready to leave. I just knew that if I kept the social workers checking off the boxes on my discharge list, I’d be getting the green light to leave soon enough. I needed to get out and be on my own, away from everyone. Away from the cigarette smoke in the courtyard, the salt-less meals throughout the day, from the lack of privacy. That was my goal, I wanted to be in complete solitude, whether I was really ready or not.
Originally written by Jessica for Love & Literature Magazine.
Merideth, before and after starting her recovery journey.
I found recovery when I was 19 years old. I experimented with many substances including alcohol, benzodiazepines, and pain killers for five years. My battle with drugs and alcohol landed me in jail, hospitals, and a long-term treatment facility. For the first couple of years of my sober journey, I believed there was one way to recover: Go to meetings, get a sponsor, and work the steps. While this works for many people, we must remember that Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, created these solutions before the plague of opioid addiction.
For example, I am sure that Bill W. could not foresee Purdue Pharma’s introduction of Oxycontin in 1995 as a “less-addictive opioid pill.” This lie has led us to a public health crisis with an estimated death toll of 100,306 people annually, as reported by the CDC. I have seen hundreds go into the same meetings as me who did not make it back because they died later that day. I have witnessed far more of my friends dying in the “solution” (a term often used in 12 Step groups) than I did in my days of getting high. That is when I became open to different pathways to recovery.
These problems aren’t just about opiates, either. According to Mental Health America, alcoholism and co-occurring disorders have increased significantly in the last five years, with 95,000 people dying from alcohol-related causes annually and 132 people committing suicide each day. These are real numbers that include our family, friends, coworkers, and neighbors. So, what do we do?
I am no expert, but I know that I can no longer sit back and watch your son, daughter, mother, or father die from another overdose. I share my story as much as I can, and I recover out loud in hopes that I may change the way America sees recovery. I hope that we can eliminate the stigma surrounding harm reduction, medically assisted treatment, and drug liberalization. We need to make resources accessible and affordable. People should receive quality treatment regardless of their age, gender, race, or economic status. I dream of a day when substance use disorder and its co-occurring conditions are no longer the leading cause of death in America.
Achieving this reality takes ACTION.
We can start by having conversations in our homes, communities, and workplaces to bring about awareness. I encourage everyone to always carry Narcan, utilize your local needle exchange, and never use substances alone; we are in the business of saving lives.
Then we can discuss decriminalization. The decriminalization of substance use disorder is imperative because the “war on drugs” has not worked and will not work. Almost 90% of our prison population has the chronic disease of addiction and should be participating in treatment or re-entry programs rather than being punished. We need funding for local communities to grow substance use disorder services rather than financing “locking them up.” We need to accept people where they are because nobody can attend a meeting if they are dead. This means welcoming people into the recovery community regardless of what stage of their recovery they are in or what pathway they have chosen.
Merideth in her current role.
There are many ways to tackle this public health crisis, but I believe it is essential to focus on our communities and the part we play. We need to go to the polls to vote, share our stories often, and speak out about drug policy. Your voice is more powerful than you think, and you can make an impact! An old-timer in a meeting once said, “What you can’t do alone, we can accomplish together.”
If you have any questions about what you can do in your community or want to learn more about any topics discussed, please feel free to reach out to me.
Meredith Booth is located in Louisville, Kentucky. She has been in recovery for over five years and currently works as a treatment advocate in a rehabilitation facility. To contact her directly or for any inquiries, please email her at merideth.booth714@gmail.com.
Looking at different recovery options? Check out Getting Help.
