Journeys Meant to Share

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I recently had a relapse with alcohol after a year and a half of sobriety and ended up going through detox for five days at a treatment center. This is something I never, ever want to have to do again. It’s hell on earth for the most part. The doctor’s explanation as to why he thinks it happened blew me away.

The culprits most likely - two habit-forming drugs (Klonopin for anxiety and Tramadol for pain), which caused the dopamine levels in my brain to rise to the pleasure point of making my brain believe I’d already started drinking before I actually had. Fascinating. I realize I’m the one who purchased the alcohol, and I take responsibility for that. It’s just that drinking again wasn’t ever an option before I started taking these two drugs. And it didn’t feel like a choice, even though it was. The decision resembled a dream more than anything else.

I wanted to post this as a caveat to those who are struggling with addiction or might know someone who is – that Klonopin or Clonozapam is highly addictive and unsafe for drunks like me to use. The doctor who continued the prescription was unaware of this, and so was her nursing staff.

As unfortunate as it is that the relapse occurred, I believe God has many purposes for it that He’s using. I trust Him to bring me out of yet another ditch I’ve dug. Thank goodness God corrected the problem so quickly. A dear friend reminded me this is because He cares. I also believe that despite all the second-guessing I’ve done as to whether or not to write about drinking, a journey is meant to be shared with others.

God's Domain

“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to test all of you as a farmer sifts his wheat. I have prayed that you will not lose your faith! Help your brothers be stronger when you come back to me.” Luke 22:31-32

I’ve had my face in the mud this past week…or mud on my face. Literally. Satan’s had his way with me, sifting me like wheat.  And I haven’t been on my knees while praying. Oh no. I’ve been face down on the floor, begging for mercy.

I ended up drinking again and decided to go through detox for five days at a treatment center. This is something I hope to never do again. It’s a bit of hell on earth.

This morning I cried out to God, and He’s been good to remind me of what I haven’t lost, no matter how bad things get. Him! He’s been with me, even though I didn’t feel His presence the whole time. I know He never left my side.

Yesterday, He got me home safely, as I drove four hours through the most beautiful parts of Texas…past so many wineries, breweries and liquor stores I finally lost count.

I’m relieved to be home again, in the home He’s provided for me, even though I only got three hours of sleep last night due to anxiety and fibromyalgia pain. At least I had my passive exerciser to get my blood circulating, an Epson salt bath, a warm robe, and the most comfortable bed on the planet. Plus, I didn’t wake up with crickets all over my floor or one staring me in the face on my pillow, like the morning before.

Thank the Lord He hasn’t kept the ending to things a secret. If I focus on this during these trials, how can I not weep for joy, knowing eternity awaits and this suffering is for His good in me?

“Satan does nothing outside of God’s domain, and God uses Satan to advance the cause of his kingdom.” Max Lucado “When Christ Comes”

Still Able to Fall?

“If you think you are strong, you should be careful not to fall.” 1 Corinthians 10:12

I made a mistake. After a year and a half of sobriety, I failed. I did not plan to leave my house at 8:45 pm to buy a bottle of Grey Goose vodka and cheap French champagne. I’m still in shock I allowed myself to do it. I only made a small dent in the vodka, the champagne going untouched because a friend came by and took it away.

It never crossed my mind to drink until the afternoon when I returned home after traveling three days to and from south Texas for my grandmother’s funeral (nine hours both ways). I felt victorious in God’s strength to resist the temptation to drink. I drove past many liquor stores on the way back from a doctor visit, praying for the strength not to go in...believing there was no way God would let me. But ultimately, the choice was mine, and I made a poor one.

I’ve never really needed a reason to drink. I knew better. And the fact remains there is no explanation good enough to take a drink if you’re a drunk. No amount of family drama or a death in the family or physical pain or emotional turmoil justifies drinking. Especially if you’ve spent 14 years of your life consuming an obscene amount of wine and a painful 18 months in recovery trying to get your life back. 

After I stopped on April 4, 2009, I didn’t think I’d ever drink again. I refuse to waste time feeling sorry for myself, beating myself up and believing the lie that Satan would love me to accept – that all hope is lost.

Recently I read an outstanding book called, “The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life,” by Hannah Whitall Smith. This is what she had to say about failures:

“A sudden failure is no reason for being discouraged and giving up all as lost.”

Saying I’ll never drink again is as foolish as saying I’ll never sin again. It still remains a day-to-day battle. I trust God has a purpose for it, and I will continue to learn and grow from this experience.