by Patricia Nanoff
I am a collector of stories. My research documents the life journeys of long-sober alcoholic women. Sobriety stories are transfiguration stories with a twist; they describe walking the labyrinth of suffering (how it was), awakening (what happened), and redemption (how it is now). Each week people in 12-step meetings gather to tell their stories, to listen for the whisper of the Holy Spirit in the stories of others who have achieved sobriety.
Newly sober members learn to craft their stories by attending to the stories of those who are farther along the path. As they grow in sobriety their accounts of “how it was” become shorter and a new awareness of the reconciling spirit of God is evidenced in stories of “what happened.” As they journey toward long-term sobriety, accounts of “how it is now” offer solace and hope to those who are new to the path.
Sobriety stories are essentially Lenten journeys, instructive because they represent God’s healing, transforming presence in the bleakest situations.
PJ, a recovering alcoholic woman with 33 years of sobriety, tells how it was.
I never realized I was an alcoholic. I lived a life of quiet desperation and when I went to bed at night I really hoped that I would never wake up. I was raising four kids and it was very difficult for the whole family. But I was a functional drunk. I paid the bills, I cooked the meals, I did everything during these blackouts.
I called AA in a blackout; it was during the end of a ten-day blackout from drinking. I barely remember two lovely ladies coming to see me. One of them even washed my hair and fixed me all up.
That night they came back and took me to a meeting; no, I drove myself to the meeting because I remember I stopped by a bar and had a couple of drinks before I went to the meeting. That’s the only way I got there. They tell me—there are not too many people around now that were at my first meeting—but the ones that were tell me that they had to hold the table down because I shook so bad. I don’t remember anything about that meeting except feeling there was some hope there, that if I came out and said that I was an alcoholic that I could be helped. And so I did.
I came home and I had some beers left; I used to hide them in a suitcase in a garage. So I drank them, went to bed, and never had another drink afterwards. The urge to drink was almost immediately lifted from me. I never had any religious education but I did know that my Higher Power was working for me even when I couldn’t work for myself.
Transformation begins in hitting our limits.
- What experience do you have of hitting your limits?