Thursday, 22 September 2011

Frying Pan to Fire or Phoenix from the Ashes?

The time frame was the mid-eighties. I had been working in nursing for half-a-dozen or so years when my department manager had called me into her office to discuss my pattern absenteeism. She had noticed or someone else had noticed and pointed out to her (I remember thinking to myself “don’t people have anything better to do with their lives than stick their noses in other peoples business?”) that my sick days were never in the middle of my block of scheduled shifts they always followed my regularly scheduled days off. I was working twelve-hour shifts at the time so routinely had four or five days off. I was quite heavily into the party scene in those days so much so that I wasn’t always feeling prepared to come back to work however I wasn’t about to indicate that anything of this sort was going on – after all I was a health care professional I would know better than anyone if there were an issue with my health so I covered my tracks with an intricately woven series of lies which she seemed satisfied with at the time although she did indicate that although nothing at this time would go on my record the situation would be monitored.

Unbeknownst (at least so I thought anyway) to anyone I worked with I essentially lived a (at least) double life I was out drinking and carrying on during my days off – often with members of my softball team all in the name of team spirit and camaraderie and then I would return to work often much the worse for wear (hard to say who was sicker at times the patients or me) as indicated earlier I would often realize the night before I was due to come back that I was not going to be in any shape to work the next day (in some cases was still on a bender) so I would call in sick (sometimes from the bar or house party I was attending). I had minimal difficulty utilizing my sick time in this fashion as though I was not sick in the sense that we were afforded sick time however there is no question I was often legitimately physically ill – I was not at that time prepared to reckon with there being a problem (even though I it had occurred to me at times – I was always able to shrug it off the next day or so) and so the cycle went.

This pattern went on for quite sometime and even the intermittent conflict over my drinking with the woman I was dating/friends with at the time made me stop and think briefly about the situation, I would soon thereafter right it off as being her problem. Certainly no problem existed with me.

I suppose it would be useful to add at this point that I had by this time numerous encounters with police and a variety of other issues that all had in common my drinking still when considered individually I was able to minimize their significance and I suppose at that point I never cared to dwell on them collectively.

That was about to change the catalyst being the women I was seeing and her announcing to me that she was pregnant. I still recall that even though I at that time had no personal experience with being in touch with my feelings – hell most of my feelings were sought through sources external to myself – something sure sunk – I believe I knew I was not at a place in my life where I would have been a good parent. Knowing this however didn’t prevent what would surprise even me when the words came out of my mouth – “don’t worry I will be there for you – I will stand by you “. I believe I meant this quite sincerely at one level but God help the child (and this women had we embarked upon that path).

After a few days passed though we hadn’t seen much of each other I got a call – could we meet there was something we needed to talk about. We got together and she informed me that she was planning on going back to school to finish her nursing and that there was no way a child figured into that plan – she had decided to have an abortion. You might have thought I would feel some sadness around this however I really just felt relief – I was convinced that I had offered to “do the right thing” and now the matter was out of my hands. I of course said I would be there to support her through this decision.

Well the procedure was booked and it got down to the evening before she was scheduled and I was supposed to spend the evening with her for moral support. Earlier that afternoon I decided to go to the local legion and play some pool have a couple of drinks and then call her and head over for our visit. I had ever intention of being there – but once again one drink led to another and before I knew my promises were not so much entirely forgotten as they simply became less of a priority until they were ultimately broken altogether. Eleven o’clock that night I called her and now hanging on to a great deal more delusion than what was left of my promise. Of course she was both devastated and furious – I was told where to go, how to get there.

I was absolutely deflated and bewildered – not that she reacted this way I understood that – it was more to do with how did this happen – I really did care about this women and yet here I was, having completely abandoned her when she needed me most and for what? All the questioning of whether there had been a problem – all the incidents involving alcohol and drugs all of the whole sorted world of altered consciousness combined to give me a glaring moment clarity – “I WAS AN ALCOHOLIC/DRUG ADDICT”. The realization struck both relief and terror simultaneously within. I consoled myself with the notion albeit one of significant naiveté – that this meant, I could get help I had no idea what the journey I was about to embark on would entail.

I booked a meeting with the same department manager that I had met with only a few months prior – during this meeting I revealed to her that the reason for my absenteeism, which we had discussed earlier was that I had a drinking problem (I divulged to her neither my drug use nor the incident that led to my coming to her with this admission). She arranged for me to begin counseling through Employee Assistance Program through which I gained access to drug and alcohol treatment on an outpatient basis.

As I look back I realize that the relief though it would return was replaced by the fear and realization of just how pervasive drinking had become in my life – many social situations that were made possible with just the right amount of chemical lubricant (of course what the right amount was continually eluded me) presented significant challenge now newly sober. Things such as dancing and not to mention intimacy (of all forms) what in God’s name was that? Who knew people actually do these things sober? When I sought help I was 28 years old (going on who knows - I start playing around with alcohol at 13 so perhaps emotionally I was closer to that age). I was pretty sure at times that this whole idea of abstinence was far more than I was capable of. Stress management was an unknown entity to me – previously I was not conscious of my stress, it was rendered nonexistent or at least replaced temporarily by the alluring arms of oblivion – that soon changed though.



I had thought the worst was behind me after a few months of treatment I was back at work in good stead – my friend and I had resolved the conflict between us and she was both forgiving and supportive that I had entered treatment. I had been sober for 3 or 4 months when the addictions doctor recommended that I go on Antabuse (a medication that was designed to bolster ones resolve to stay sober) – it was essentially benign unless you took a drink and then having the medication in your system in combination with alcohol would result in one becoming violently ill – this was supposed to make you think twice about picking up a drink. I reluctantly agreed to go on the medication.

I wouldn’t learn until afterwards that a small percentage of people have psychotic reactions to this medication – would have been useful information to be informed of before hand but then that’s not how pharmaceutical products are marketed.

For (actually I’m not sure to this day) a number of days I slipped in and I guess out of various altered states – including being while at work. I look at it now with humour but at the time it was very frightening – now I wasn’t missing days – I was showing up on days I wasn’t scheduled to be there – dressed in shorts and a tank top (instead of a nursing uniform). I was doing, being and saying all a variety of things, inappropriate to the time and place (or so I was told when this was all over). From my perspective I was awake (as in not sleeping – in fact I don’t think I did sleep for whatever period of time this was) though I could be clear what was real and what was a dream?
I was terrified that I was losing my mind – ironic given the vast quantities and varieties of ways I had previously in my life sought to escape reality – but now I had chosen reality – but couldn’t seem to join that which was the shared reality of those around me.

Somehow my behaviour was brought to the attention of my parents who in turn contacted the addictions doctor – she told them to keep me with them and discontinue the medication. Within a day or so the episodes subsided.

Having satisfied all concerned that I wasn’t intentionally using drugs or at least my intention for using the drugs I was wasn’t for the purpose of getting high – I was to resume work. Easy enough for all the rest of them to determine – I was now faced with returning to my former place of employment where I had been witnessed exhibiting at the least behaviour that was not typical of me. How was I to deal with the invariable barrage of questions? I couldn’t say if the gossip in this environment is any worse than any other work place but it is second to none. The way I saw it I could have them believing I was either stoned, or had some sort of departure from my mental faculties or explain that though the former was true, it was only temporarily brought on by a medication given to me to treat my alcoholism and drug addiction.

I felt humiliated and ashamed I never had intention to disclose my “going into treatment” it may be fine for the Hollywood crowd but my preference for the most part was to fly under the radar. Anxiety mounted – how could I face these people? Could I face these people? What would they think of me?

Then anger came up from within me that ignited within me an attitude of “bugger them – if and when I leave that place it will be when I decide and not a moment before”. Even though this was uncharacteristic of how I saw myself to be, I could see that it would serve me in this case. This was the awaking of my spirit – and I constructive use of my anger it wasn’t turned in on me – it wasn’t used to lash out at someone else it became that which pushed me through what seemed a unsurpassable roadblock in my path.

There have been many “jumping off” points both in my early sobriety and since where I have been chased to the precipice by my former ways of being – though turning back has never been chosen it is always considered – but would I be able to determine how far back? As I consider this the fear mounts – no I can’t take that chance I can’t possibly go back there – but what of moving forward – couldn’t I be given a hint of what is in store? Apparently not – that is why it is known as a leap of faith? Which at times for me would probably more accurately be a “leap of I don’t think I like the alternative.” In A.A. I was introduced to the idea of a “Power greater than myself”- admittedly I turned to this power only in times of desperation but it was a beginning.

So despite my fears I decided to return to my place of employment, I decided the lesser of the two evils was to come clean and tell them the truth. I received a great deal of support and well-wishes which I might add came from many that in my mind would have been the least likely to step up in this way. In hindsight I guess this might have been the beginning of the development of not taking myself too seriously.

I have been sober now for 22 ½ years and as they say “I wouldn’t trade my worst day sober for my best day drunk.”

This began a spiritual odyssey that continues to this very day, at which point, I am again at a place where I am in the process of reinventing myself, which continues to offer new insights, the discovery and development of various gifts and which as close as I can determine may well become known as my finest hour. The relationship with the God of my understanding continues to grow and evolve providing for me both a source of strength and inspiration.

No comments:

Post a Comment