Staying Dry in the Deep End

In early sobriety, the rules on avoiding booze are clear. And, if we forget that drinking is our primary problem, there are catchy clichés that remind us. My wife, Nina, wrote about one of my favorites in another post. “If you hang around the barbershop, you’re gonna get a haircut.” But, what if you live in a barbershop? How do you stay dry when the booze is in your house?

Many alcoholics find one of the biggest threats to their sobriety at home. I was one of those alcoholics. Let me paint a picture of what can happen when you live with someone who still drinks.

When I was less than six months sober, I woke up early one Saturday morning and began cleaning up the kitchen before making breakfast. I washed up some of the leftover pots and pans from dinner the night before and picked up a few random cups left on the counter. As I moved one to the sink, the half-full glass sloshed and the smell of wine wafted up from the cup.

I hesitated with the cup in my hand. No one would know if I gulped the rest or poured it down the sink. I was alone and likely would be for hours. For an instant, the old thoughts flooded in. I could be free from the struggle of not drinking. One gulp would not hurt. Maybe trying a drink is a way to ensure that I no longer will slip into the alcoholic spiral that led to rehab. Drinking first thing on a Saturday was something I had done countless times with no problems.

With that last thought, I heard the insanity. I knew, then, if I drank the remnants of that cup, I would instantly hunt for more. The craving and the compulsion would kick in and there was no telling when or if I would stop.

I angrily dumped the cup in the sink. “That shit shouldn’t even be on the counter—not even in this house!” I yelled in my mind.

I returned to washing the dishes. How disrespectful and thoughtless could a person be? Why would anyone intentionally put me in danger? Someone who claims to care about me should know better.

All of the sanctimonious thoughts ended as I brewed over a cup of coffee and morning cigarette. The truth slowly sunk in, and I remembered a friend reminding me that I am the ONLY one responsible for my sobriety. My attitude toward the entire incident changed in that moment. Instead of being in danger, I passed a test with flying colors. Sure, I was a little tempted, but I poured the wine out. I didn’t leave the cup on the counter as a lingering temptation. There was a problem and I solved it.

Years later, I would again wonder if there should have been this problem at all. The cup that my now ex-wife had left on the counter symbolized a bigger problem that I was in no way ready to handle. At the time, all my frazzled mind could think is that it wasn’t supposed to be this way. I had made different plans.

While in treatment, I discovered that I really, truly was an alcoholic. This may be a shock to some, but I entered treatment mainly to prove I WASN’T an alcoholic. Yeah, that is a whole new category of denial. Eventually, I faced up to the fact that I could no longer drink normally, if I ever could. Once I got passed the fear of what that meant, I began to see how much better my life could be. In fact, I was so excited I decided to win rehab. (You can read about how successful I was in my post, “Three Words Not in My Vocabulary.“)

Without doubt, I would spend less money. Without the constant thinking about drinking, I would be able to be fully present in my sons’ lives. I now had endless possibilities in career fields. I could drop teaching forever and make real money. (If you want to know how laughable the statements about jobs and money are you can check out my post, “It’s Not About the Money.”) I certainly planned to help others, and I planned to start with the now EX-wife. (Seriously, stop giggling.)

One of the sneaky secrets about putting a bunch of addicts and alcoholics together in treatment is that we get to share all kinds of stories about active addiction. In recovery, we often refer to them as “war stories.” Some of the best ones start with the words, “You are not going to believe how bat-shit crazy I was..” In rehab, the stories were literally research. I learned more about drugs and alcohol use in a few days than I could have ever learned on my own.

I’ll spare you the details of the personal relapse plan that I made during Day 8 of treatment and threw away by Day 10. However, one thing I did learn was that my partner who repeatedly blamed all of her problems on me, had a drug-dealing doctor who prescribed enough addictive medication to kill large farm animals. She somehow survived despite often adding a half of a bottle of wine to wash the prescribed drugs down. Armed with this new information, and the realization of how my own genius decision to mix benzos with booze nearly killed me, I planned to fix my now ex-wife.

“How’d that work out for you?” my temporary sponsored laughed as I explained my shock in finding that she could care less about my solution for HER problem.

“She said that I had a problem and she didn’t.”

“She’s right,” he said through a coughing laugh. “You need to keep your own side of the street clean. The only person you need to worry about fixing is you.”

When I decided to reveal my grand plan of help the EX stay sober, we were living in separate houses. There was a real worry at the treatment center that if I returned home I would be drunk in a week. On counselor’s advice, I stayed with my parents for three months. Looking back, anyone could see that I should have never returned home.

Still, I was naïve enough to try. Four months sober, against my better judgement, I moved back in. At first, the ex had decided she wouldn’t drink. That lasted until about week 2 of our living together. She would occasionally ask if it would be okay for her to buy a bottle of wine or have a drink when we took our sons out for celebration dinners. Within two more months, there was no longer the courtesy of asking.

I would find half-full bottles of wine on the counter, or six pack of hard lemonade in the refrigerator. There was even a half-full liquor bottle in the back floorboard of her car a few times. My crazy brain had me worried that she would accuse me of hiding liquor in her car.

I kept to my own side of the street, sort of. Like that morning when I had the cup in my hand, I struggled with jealousy. Part of me felt like saying F-it! I’ll drink, too.

Any time this happened, the rational side of my brain conjured up memories of my last days of drinking. I never want to go back to that so I was not seriously tempted. In fairness to the ex, I never saw her drunk, buzzed a few times, but not drunk.

Still, I’m not a fan of being a full-time, on-call designated driver. I’m definitely not a fan of alcohol infused breath that some how travels 10-feet from the breather. I also wondered how many of our arguments were at least partly fueled by booze, now. Before, there was never a question.

One day, another plastic cup almost full of what looked like tea put an end to my thoughts of drinking. The smell of red wine wafting from the sink where I dumped the cup churned my stomach into knots and I gagged. I literally could not stand the smell. Feeling confused and elated at the same time, I no longer wondered if having booze around was too great of a temptation. To this day when I think of the smell, my stomach tightens.

That plastic cup full of red wine proved to me beyond all doubt, that the problem of anyone drinking around me, rests solely with me. In early sobriety, despite my best intentions, my brain still wanted one last drink for the road. I’m sure that struggle exists for most alcoholics and addicts. We are encouraged to stay away from drinking occasions, drinking buddies, and liquor stores with good reason. The sole purpose of being around all of those is to drink. However, the sole purpose of a home is not to exist as a DUI-proof bar.

Once I stopped worrying about what and how much the EX drank, and focused on the other things I needed to do at home, I no longer cared if there was booze around. The place that I lived was not a bar or a trap house. It was a place where I shared meals, watched TV, did yard work, and a hundred other things that make a home.

I have met other people in recovery who are married or have relationships with people who can drink. They seemed to be less bothered than I was. That understanding, pointed me to a greater problem. The relationship. Initially, I was hell-bent on changing the EX to fit what I KNEW was a better life for her, and to be honest, me. That was not my job or my place.

I don’t get to change people to suit me, and if I could, my changes would make them worse. Either I could accept that the rule of alcohol that governed me did not apply to the EX, or I could leave. If she chose to quit drinking around me, that is her decision. For me, it took a nauseating sniff of red wine, to drive that point home.

Would it have been easier if I had lived in an alcohol-free environment? Hell, yes! Can anyone who wants to be sober live with someone who drinks? Hell, yes! IF, and this is a big one, IF the person in recovery fully understands that drinking is off the table for him or her.

One of my favorite examples of determination in sobriety comes from a friend of mine. When he left treatment, he returned to his family home. While my friend was clean from alcohol and crack cocaine, his brother, who also lived in the home, was not. My friend kept going to meetings and kept staying clean. Despite walking through a haze of smoke, being around his brother’s friends who also used, and living in the same place where he last drank and used, he stayed sober. He will celebrate 6 years soon and is living on his own now.

My friend never mentioned any struggle he had because of his living situation. He never shared about the environment he woke in every day. He just stayed sober. Like me, he stayed close with people who had years in recovery. One day, I asked him how he managed to stay clean. He simply said that he was done with drugs and alcohol.

Perhaps, he is an exception to the rule. Personally, I don’t think so. While I will never encourage people in recovery to live in drug or booze filled environments, I do know that is possible to do it and stay sober.

For me, there were several keys to maintaining my sobriety despite the available temptation.

1. I stayed in close contact with others in recovery and used their support through meetings, conversations and phone calls or texts. If I got frustrated, I would talk to one of my friends in recovery.
2. If I ran across a bottle of booze, I would say out loud that it was not for me. I know that sounds silly, but I did it.
3. I never pretended that I was comfortable with booze around me. I never picked up a cup that I did not know was mine. If I could not tell what was in a cup, I never drank from it.
4. I practiced ways to improve my sobriety each day. I made lists of reasons I had to be grateful to be sober, and I read literature about recovery. Each day, I looked for ways to strengthen my resolve to stay sober.
5. Any time thoughts of drinking crept in my brain, I changed the channel to the memory of what my life was like before I quit drinking. I kept that memory close throughout my first year sober.

Most of that five-item list was in full practice before I moved in with the EX, and I would have used it whether I lived with someone who was still drinking or not. Today, that essential five comes so naturally, that I do it without thinking about it.

Some people may argue that especially number 2 from the list is no longer necessary now that I have been in recovery for nearly 8 years. However, as my sponsor says “it is alcohol-ism not alcohol-wasm.”I use what works for me because I don’t play games with my sobriety.

Today, I am married to a beautiful woman who also takes her recovery seriously. We don’t have to worry about random bottles of alcohol appearing in our home. Still, we work to strengthen our relationship and our recovery a little more each day. I have never been happier.

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