How I Quit Drinking

I started drinking when I was eighteen. Apparently I looked older, since I have never been carded in my life. At that time I’d drink on occasion, not regularly.

A few years rolled by and I was a member of a social organization in which wine was served at parties. I thought wine was fine. I’d get a nice little buzz and the effect it had on me was to be less reserved than I normally was. I started liking the effect so well that I began buying bottles of wine to drink at home.

Progressively the urge to have a drink was a daily event. The drinking did not interfere with my ability to hold a job during the daytime. It did, however, cause my doctor to raise her eyebrows and (the nerve of that woman) ask me if I “always” drank at lunch time. I told her, “No,” although I don’t think she believed me. She recommended that I go to Alcoholics Anonymous. Phooey, I thought, I don’t drink that much. I did attend a few meetings, then go home and have some wine.

Eventually I got to the point that I’d go to work, come home, drink wine, and be in bed by eight o’clock. I slept so hard I even wet the bed sometimes.

In 1981 I married a man I had only known for six weeks. He told me he loved me on our third date and proposed. Even though I had been single for eleven years and his saying “I love you” was music to my ears, my response to his proposal was, “I’m not the domestic type.” He just laughed and told me that his last wife wasn’t the domestic type either, and it didn’t bother him (he lied). He proceeded to tell me all about his five previous marriages. His reasons for the marriages failing seemed plausible enough, with the exception of his first marriage, and he admitted being at fault.

We took a trip to Arizona to visit my stepfather. When we were about ready to go, he persuaded me that since we were so close to Las Vegas, we could go get married. Being impulsive, I thought okay, might as well.

Six weeks into the marriage I knew it was a mistake. Naturally, I turned to my escape route of drinking. He could always tell, and although he didn’t condemn my drinking, I knew he didn’t like it, even though we drank other liquor together sometimes. We had our ups and downs during our marriage. I thought the first year is the hardest, so I’ll stick it out. I stuck it out for eighteen months. Then I moved out and filed papers for a summary dissolution. That was in June of 1983.

That’s enough background. I continued my wine drinking and rejoined the singles group. In January of 1984 I met the true love of my life at this group. We went out for coffee, and when he asked if we could go to my place I told him I had homework to do so it wasn’t a good time for company. So we stayed at the coffee shop talking for a long time. As the minutes ticked by I realized that I really liked this guy and the homework could wait. So I said that I changed my mind. He could come over, the homework could wait, and I’d teach him how to play backgammon (he liked playing games as much as me). Pretty soon we were almost inseparable.

My new-found friend was not a drinker. During our six-year relationship he had approximately three alcoholic beverages. About a month into our relationship I had an awakening. I wanted to be “all there” when we were together.

I came home from work and said, “How ‘bout a glass of wine?” In response to myself I said, “Nah, a Diet Coke sounds better.” That was it – the turning point. Being in love was the key that put a stop to my excessive drinking. If he had been a drinker, I don’t think love would’ve been the catalyst. I think the way it worked out, it was meant to be.

Now, twenty-three years later, I have a drink on occasion, but have no desire to get drunk. My best friend and love of my life died in 1991. He was very special and I still miss him sometimes. I thought we would grow old together, but God had other plans. I believe the old saying, “It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all,” is very true.