I Fell Off The Wagon Yesterday

Is it time to hit the reset button?

For two years now I have rejected the seductive allure of alcohol. It has called out to me many times with its velvety and tempting voice, but I have looked the other way and carried on.

As a recovering alcoholic, I have been determined not to head back down a path that almost led to my complete destruction. That way was paved with shards of broken relationships and the sting of declining health.

An existence where I turned to alcohol for relief and solace. Grinding through life’s precious moments as quickly as possible so I could get home and experience the escape offered by the drink. Numb to all else that was around me as it became my true love in life.

Nothing else mattered.

However, despite the odds, I was able to quit drinking a few years ago. I was deeply inspired by others as they encountered unimaginable tragedy with such grace and wisdom. They reminded me of all the good that still existed in the world.

So I kicked that beer can to the curb and have not looked back since.

Until yesterday that is.

Alcohol is an insidious foe. Like a snake, it will slither right back into your life when you least expect it. This was exactly the case for me.

My wife has been eager to see a local singer friend of hers perform for a while now. It turns out that he was singing at a local pub yesterday evening. She was very excited about it and asked if I was up to going.

I am usually very careful to avoid going anywhere near taverns or pubs, but I did not want her to miss out on my account. I have disappointed her too many times in life already. Besides, I thought, it has been years since I had my last drink… I will be fine.

As soon as I entered the pub that evening, I knew it was a big mistake. The scent of hops and spilled beer assailed my senses immediately. It brought back flashbacks of my self-induced alcoholic haze, and instantly began chipping away at my fortress of will.

Laughter and the clinking of glasses filled the air as I watched patrons stumble from table to table in acts of drunken camaraderie.

I sat uncomfortably at a table and noticed it would still be a while before the show even started. In the meantime, my wife had noticed a few of her friends and had left me on my own for a bit so she could go say hello.

So what is an alcoholic who struggles with social anxiety likely to do in such a scenario?

You guessed it… I had a drink.

And then another.

By the time my wife had returned to the table, I had already downed half a dozen and there was no turning back now.

I looked up and saw the concern and disappointment etched across her face. I didn’t care though, as the alcohol was in full control now. With a smug sneer on its face, the monster had clawed its way back to the wheel once again.

Many drinks later, my wife managed to load me into the car and drive me home. She did not get to see her friend perform, as taking care of me became the top priority.

After acting as a caregiver to me for most of last year following my cancer surgery, you would think I could have given her a break for one night at the very least! Alas, it was not meant to be. The alcohol had taken over and it had no mercy.

There is really only one thing that is worse than the day of watching over 700 sober days go spiraling down the drain.

The day after!

It was no great surprise that I woke up with a pounding headache and acute waves of nausea. I had not felt so sick since undergoing cancer treatments just a few months earlier. My old friend the hangover was back and making his presence known with a vengeance.

The events of the previous evening were hazy and cloudy at best. I could not remember most of it and was left with feelings of embarrassment, anxiety, and humiliation. While this was all bad enough, something else had taken over as well.

Shame and guilt.

Shame that I had allowed my old foe to return, and guilt for making my wife pick up the scattered pieces of my life once again. Everything came crashing back down to earth with a resounding thud.

This was all a harsh wake-up call for me and not something I am terribly proud of. Shame burned in my chest and the air surrounded me with disappointment. Most importantly though, I had let myself down and was left feeling that I had to start all over again.

I had fallen off the mountain and was left sitting at the base once again. Staring up at the seemingly insurmountable distance to reach the top.

The question which now burns within me is do I have what it takes to get there again? More importantly, do I even want to try?

I have experienced my fair share of ups and downs in life. I am definitely not a poster boy for perfection. Despite this, there is one thing I know for a genuine fact. Namely, even in the darkest moments, there is always a silver lining.

That is exactly the case here.

I suffered a relapse yesterday. That is all part of the recovery process for an alcoholic. It is but a blip on the radar screen. All is not lost and I just need to apply the lessons I learned and become stronger in the process.

In hindsight, I can now see that I drastically underestimated my foe. I exposed myself to triggers and thought I would be fine if I just had one drink to calm my nerves. It does not work that way for an alcoholic. We can never just stop at one.

This is knowledge I can take forward and apply to my life as I am supported by my wonderful family.

These are very good things!

You see… we all fall down in life. It is inevitable and just part of the learning process. The real question is whether we stay down with our faces in the mud, or do we rise up to fight another day?

I choose to rise.

So yes, I fell off the wagon yesterday. But you better believe that I hopped right back on today!