Hitting Bottom(Rusty C. Winters) HITTING BOTTOM


I am a Recovering Alcoholic and wish to open your eyes, mind, and heart to the Deadly Decision Point awaiting us all in the recovery process: Seek Help or Keep Drinking. We who are in the recovery mode of our disease call this decision point: HITTING BOTTOM. A point in time is reached in our drinking life in which we are challenged, awakened, scared, or instructed to seek help and change our way of life before it becomes a way of death. We have played all the games, found all the deviations from our truth, and avoided facing reality by having another drink; keeping our bodies and minds medicated. Many of us decide to keep drinking at this point and are only committing suicide on a slow path. The alcohol has already become our life form and a priority obsession but we choose not to change but walk closer to the grave each day.

Our process of avoiding reality with the medication system known as alcohol consumption started years ago. As we grew older the usage of our drug increased and we justified that consumption with the greatest inhibitor in our disease: DENIAL. We justified our drinking by keeping friends who drink, hanging out in bars where drinking is accepted, and avoiding people who would question our usage and focus reality in our face. If confronted for our behavior or actions we immediately turned to Mr. Denial to help us out: “Everyone has a few drinks”, “I’m a happy drunk not vicious”, or “I am in Control”! We pass by and discard every instance as Normal in our ingestion of the Devil’s Nectar. We become Experts; Presidents and CEOs of our company which specializes in the consumption of alcohol. We become professionals at changing the subject, planning our next high, and assembling large groups to get the focus off us and onto the pleasant process of drinking.

In my life I had lost my dad, my wife, my children, my dignity, my health, my faith, and all of my self esteem. I only went to work to recharge myself with money and gain emotional support for my next depression attack. I was good at my job; paid well, but the hangovers and absenteeism were all very real. I avoided my past failures by remaining medicated after work and sometimes during work. I surmised that if I did a good job the alcohol consumption would only be a small window for critics to look into. I chose not to deal with my past feelings over my dad and marriage but rather chose to find other ladies to take my wife’s place. When that didn’t work I chose to marry the beer can who never talked back. I kept looking for someone to solve the feelings of my past; make them go away and make my future so firm that I could walk forward with no chance of error. I never looked at my self as being the culprit in my cycle of problems but rather blamed everyone else for the situation I was in and my compulsion to avoid reality.

I had developed a new reality: life is fine, have a few beers, hang out with the gang, and avoid looking inside yourself by remaining medicated. I was always looking for salvation from my problems through others. Friends usually walked away and thought I was sick for discussing those problems and feelings around them. My self esteem was very weak but the beer made me strong; overcoming the reality that maybe I was drinking too much? Maybe I could not drink like others? Just maybe I was heading down a road where there was no return if I didn’t ask for help?

My life had become completely unmanageable. I drank every day. I lied every day. I cried inside my heart every day. I abused my friends every day. I medicated my feelings every day. I missed my family, wife, dad, and kids every day. I wanted to be alone every day. I wanted to fix others and their bad attitudes every day. I used women to cover my real feelings every day. I thought I would get better by drinking every day. I avoided God and faith every day. I could not understand why this beer was running my life every day. I could not accept that an educated man had gotten hooked on alcohol every day. I kissed and loved Mr. Denial every day. I knew something was wrong with my life every day. I was ashamed that I was in this pickle every day. I tried to hide my drinking at home and work every day. I remained medicated to avoid reality every day. I was a bomb ready to go off every day. I didn’t like people and wished they would all go away every day. I never admitted that something might be wrong with me every day. I knew that I was not an alcoholic every day!

My life was in a turmoil after 20 years of drinking. I didn’t care what people thought, I didn’t care what happened to me, I didn’t care about work, but I did care about money so I could drink. On a family outing with my mother and daughter in 1984 I was up late drinking all the beer I could consume to make me high and medicate the reality for that day when I heard a voice say “Alan come here”. It was my mom asking me into her bedroom. She asked me to sit down on the edge of her bed and asked me why I was drinking so much beer? I broke down and told the truth. I was confronted by a loved one who knew pain, had wisdom, and knew that her son was not acting normal. I told her I was an alcoholic and that I could not stop this horrible drinking pattern no matter what I tried. We both cried and I agreed to get help! I had reached MY BOTTOM. There was no turning back. I knew from other’s stories and the Alcohol Treatment Center Ads on TV that I was dealing with Death and my only alternative was help. I kicked old Mr. Denial out of my life and checked into a treatment center for an analysis, as it was called. As I started the withdrawals and reaction to no alcohol in my system the disease was fighting to put me back on track and run my life. NO WAY! In the intensive care unit they gave me vitamin B and little blue pills to keep my heart from exploding while my abused liver burned the remaining filth and poison from my system. After three days in the I.C.U. I was allowed to go to group meetings. I felt so unique.

After two days in my recovery classes and talking to others I realized that I was not unique but rather just another poor soul who had almost drank himself into the grave. My liver was swollen and was getting better on a daily basis. I admitted that I was an alcoholic and was proud of my new ownership and acceptance. I finally realized that no one except Alan was going to change my life and put me in the driver’s seat to recovery. There was no magic in treatment. They helped me medically withdraw from the cravings for alcohol and gave me the tools to start a new life. The starting of a new life is frightening when all you know is the wrong way to live!

My daily routine is a lot different now than the routine of the old days. I arise with a clear head and give thanks to God that I have another day to live. I go to work for me: happy and full of self esteem to do a good job. I give thanks each night that I am alive and healthy with a desire to make a difference rather than create a difference. I often think about my past and realize that it was real but I avoided reality with my alcoholic medication. I often think about others who may avoid reality with food, drugs, sex, work, and gambling: this alcoholic knows that rejecting the Devil with his nectar and accepting God with his love is REALITY.





I have been sober 22 years and encourage you to give this story to anyone who may need to hear: GET HELP!
03/20/2006 – Author Rusty Winters
Copyright: © ACO00016 - 2011

---