The serenity prayer is a crucial part of recovery meetings. It is of equal importance to those of us that are living with an addict. To watch a loved one destroy themselves and their life is one of the most heartbreaking things I have ever experienced. My husband, Matt, bravely shared his story about addiction on my blog. It is important to understand that addiction doesn’t just affect the life of an addict; it affects the ones who love the addict just as much.
My husband always liked to drink. I was never a big drinker, and I’m a lightweight. One drink for me, and I get tipsy. It was amazing to see how much my husband was capable of drinking at one time. I love to dance, and we would go to clubs when we were dating (ah, the memories of once being young). I knew Matt was part of a fraternity in college, so when my friends noticed how much he drank and inquired about it, I just chalked it up to him having a high tolerance for it. He got drunk on our wedding day, but so did most of the guests there. It was a celebration, after all.
My Loved One’s Addiction
Fast forward to us finding out I was pregnant. We were on cloud nine. I knew Matt was afraid of me having a miscarriage (we knew many couples who sadly went through that), but I reassured him that I was okay, and the baby was okay. I thought everything was fine until one day I saw him pouring alcohol into an iced tea bottle. Warning bells started going off in my head. I was three months pregnant and knew that behavior like that wasn’t okay. I told him that he needed to stop. He said he would stop, and then a few weeks later he got drunk again. He wandered to my father’s house, and my dad had to take him home. This time I put my foot down. I said if I ever caught him drinking again, he would have to leave. There was a child being brought into the world, and it wasn’t safe for a baby to be around that. I thought that was the end of the story.
Little did I know, it was just the beginning.
I have severe insomnia, and I take medication to help me sleep. There was only one prescription I could take that wouldn’t hurt the baby. All of a sudden, I noticed those pills were missing. I asked my husband about it. The first time I asked he said he accidentally dropped the pills in a sewer on the way home. Once he said the pharmacy must have not given me enough pills. My favorite lie was when we flew to New York; he told me that airport security must have taken them, and it is quite common for them to do so. I knew nothing about addiction besides what I had seen on TV, and we had a baby on the way. I wanted more than anything to believe that he was telling the truth. That’s the problem with living with and loving an addict; you never know when they are lying to you.
to a beautiful baby girl. It should have been a magical time in our lives. It was anything but. Matt was always sleeping through Brielle’s cries, he was not hands-on with her, and I was taking care of our baby all on my own. By this point I had actually caught him with pills, and I knew that he had a problem. Here I was, a new mom with a little baby, and my husband was getting high. Each time he would say he would stop, but it always started up again.
This went on for more years than I care to admit.
When he stopped taking my pills, he started using others that he obtained on his own. I tried to reach out to loved ones for help, but nobody wanted to see him as an addict. Their denial made me feel helpless and completely alone. He was so convincing that sometimes I questioned if I was losing my mind, and the problem was me. I had no support and I prayed there was something I could do to make him see the light. I tried talking, I tired yelling, I tried crying, I tried pleading. Nothing I said or did made a difference, and I was the only one fighting for him to get well.
My husband had seen several therapists during this time, at my request, and he convinced each therapist that there was nothing wrong. I remember one time that some pills went missing, and Matt swore up, down, and sideways that he had nothing to do with it. I requested Matt’s permission to accompany him to his next session, and I was shocked that his therapist said that he believed him. My husband was a great manipulator (as most addicts are), and he was incredibly convincing. Years later, he admitted that of course he had taken those pills, and he lied to me and the therapist. He was able to fool almost everyone, but he couldn’t fool me.
My daughter was getting older, and I didn’t want her exposed to this lifestyle of living in the house with an addict. I had two choices: (1)- I could accept that this was what he was going to do, and I had to find a way to live with that (2)- I couldn’t accept that and I had to walk away. As much as I loved my husband, I knew this wasn’t the kind of life I could accept for my child. I made an appointment with a marriage counselor who specialized in addiction. Since he wasn’t listening to me, and nobody else had backed me up, I hoped that a stranger could make him see that he needed help. I made it clear to her that I was prepared to leave him if speaking to her didn’t work.
That fateful day we met with this therapist, and for the first time, someone backed me up.
I felt a combination of relief and fear. Relief that I wasn’t crazy to believe that he had a problem, and terrified that it was actually the truth. The therapist did something only I had done. She listened to him tell his story, told him that he was full of baloney, and that I was prepared to leave him if he didn’t get help. I’ll never forget the look on Matt’s face. It was the first time that someone besides me had told him that he needed help. He had everyone else convinced that he was fine, including himself. Now he had two people holding up mirrors in front of his face, and there was nowhere for him to hide.
The Journey to recovery
My husband agreed to go to an outpatient center. He went three evenings a week for three hours each time for four months. Matt hadn’t been active at all in my daughter’s life because of his addiction, and now he was not physically there as well. My then three-year-old daughter kept asking me where her Daddy was. I told her that he was sick, and he was going somewhere to get better.
There were nights that the outpatient program allowed family members to attend. I went to those meetings and took notes. There was so much about addiction that I didn’t know. I learned that the brain of an addict sends signals that their addiction is necessary for survival. Just as he needed food and water, his brain made him think he needed those pills. I had never understood why he wasn’t able to just stop.
I now understood that addiction was a disease, and one that couldn’t just be turned on and off.
My daughter and I were there the day he graduated from his outpatient program. She didn’t know any specifics, but I told her that her Daddy was trying really hard to get well. She and I both applauded for him as he got his completion certificate. My dad accompanied us there so he could take Brielle out of the room when Matt gave his speech. I couldn’t be prouder of his hard work and determination to stay sober.
I don’t know what it feels like to live with an addiction, but I have tried to educate myself about it as much as possible so that I could support Matt on his journey to stay sober.
The biggest lesson I learned was that you can’t force someone to get clean.
You also can’t force someone to stay clean. This is a choice that my husband makes every single day, and it’s a choice that I never take for granted.
Sobriety is a choice AND SO IS LIVING WITH AN ADDICT
I am so proud of my husband for accepting that he is an addict, but I am not responsible for his sobriety. It is incredibly difficult to not try to “help” someone stay clean. There have been times where time has lapsed between him attending meetings, and as much as I want to tell him to go to one, I know that it needs to come from him. An addict can’t stay sober because you want them to. They have to do that for themselves.
Loving and living with an addict means that sobriety is never a certainty. Matt knows that I am always here to listen and support him, but I can’t make him stay clean. Only he can do that. It is a scary road for a loved one of an addict. The harsh reality is that at any point the rug can be pulled out from under me. It is very terrifying and heartbreaking to not have control over that.
The biggest piece of advice I can give to someone who loves an addict is that as much as the addict loves you, he or she will always choose their addiction over you until they reach rock bottom.
That’s why living with an addict is so difficult. Addiction is a disease that messes with an addict’s mind. You can’t make choices for an addict, but you do have the power to make your own choice; you can choose to stay with that person as they are or you can choose to walk away. As much as you love that person, you can’t make them stop their addiction. Sometimes walking away will be the rock bottom necessary to get help. Sometimes it isn’t.
I can’t control the choices Matt makes, but I can control what I expose to my child and to myself. Take care of yourself and your children. Give love and encouragement to the person who is trying to stay sober, but don’t try to force sobriety. You will never win that battle.
Loving an addict is not easy, and we often don’t get recognition or support. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” Just as there are support groups for addiction, there are support groups for loved ones of addicts (Al-Anon). Speak to a therapist, educate yourself, and work on yourself. Use the serenity prayer to help you on your journey through loving an addict.
Hi, my name is Matt, and I’m an addict. This is my personal story of drug addiction and recovery. Even though I’ve been sober for over 4 years, I need to continue to be vigilant every single day. See, addiction is a disease that will never be cured. It will never go away. I will always be an addict.
It took me a long time to admit that I had a problem. Sure, I liked to drink. When I was in college, I was drinking, taking drugs, and partying all the time. “It’s college, that’s what you do,” I told myself.
Once I met my wife, we would go out and have drinks. I always was the one who had the most to drink. So what if her friends asked why I drank so much? It was only on the weekends. My wife and I had a Sunday ritual of having a glass of wine. My one drink would quickly turn into three or four. “I don’t drink every day,” I would tell myself.
When my wife became pregnant, I was afraid of something happening to the baby. That was all the trigger I needed to start spiraling downward. It started slowly, having two or three vodka sodas on a Sunday night. Then it became Sundays and Thursdays. Then Sundays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Sometimes I would hide it, and sometimes I would be out in the open.
Fast forward and it was happening on a regular basis, and I was hiding it all the time. I hit my first rock bottom one night when I was so drunk, I walked to my father-in-law’s apartment. I don’t remember any of this, but on the way back home, I threw up all over the place. My father-in-law had to take me home because I could barely stand up. This was one of the low points during my personal story of addiction.
When I kept getting caught drinking by my wife, I turned to pills. I learned that taking Ambien many hours before sleeping would allow you to become euphoric. Pills were much easier to hide than alcohol. You go to the doctor, get the prescription, fill it at the drug store and keep it hidden. One pill per night turned into two, then three. Always waiting for the next night to come. Always counting how many pills I had left and how long I had until I could get another refill.
Those numbers never worked out in my favor. I would get caught, make promises to stop, and then start up again. Hiding and taking pills, night after night. When I ran out of pills, I would manipulate my parents into sending me some or stealing from them when we visited their house. I would do almost anything to get my fix.
After a while, I was getting bored of the downers and decided it was a good idea to take ADHD medication. See, that’s not totally a fabrication. I do have ADHD. I have a very hard time concentrating and paying attention to things I don’t like. It made it simple to go to a doctor and get those medications: Vyvanse, Adderall, Concerta, Ritalin. It didn’t matter to me which one, they all worked the same.
One a day became two, then three. There were days where I would take two in the morning and two in the afternoon. There were nights that I was so jittery from the medication that I had to get some air because I felt like I was having a heart attack. It didn’t matter. None of those feelings mattered as long as I could get what I wanted, when I wanted it. It was easier for me to walk around in a completely numb state rather than feel any negative emotions.
That’s the funny thing about addicts and alcoholics living in their personal story of addiction. It is a disease, and one in which we really do not have much control over. The stigma has always been, “why can’t you stop?” or “if you love me, you will stop doing it.” It’s not that simple. What I’ve learned over the years is that most addicts take things to numb themselves from the realities of life. We are not capable of processing and handling anything other than happy feelings and thoughts. One sniff of negativity and it’s off to the races. In truth, addicts are some of the most sensitive people around. It hides underneath the fake façade of drug haze and numbness.
Fear and shame. Underneath all the manipulation, lies, deceit, and betrayals are shame and fear. Us addicts are fearful about things we have to face in life, and we feel complete and utter shame for the choices that we made and make. It’s a psychotic cycle. If you feel shame for a choice, most people just don’t make that same choice any longer. That’s just not how it is for addicts. Those choices make us feel shameful, and because we feel terribly, we go back to the drugs and associated behaviors because we don’t have the tools to feel those negative emotions. It’s the addiction, the dark passenger in your brain, that tricks you into thinking numbing your feelings is the way to live your life. It’s a deny at-all- costs mentality, and it hurts everyone around you. My wife and child were not the priority. My addiction was.
That’s why you can never say, “I used to be an addict” or, “I used to be an alcoholic.” There is no cure, and it isn’t something you can just “get over.” The moment your guard is let down, that’s when you are ripe for a relapse. I’ve been in rooms where there are people who have been living sober for 10 plus years that got complacent and relapsed.
You must take things one day at a time, and for the people living sober for the first time, one hour or even one minute at a time. Looking to the future is too overwhelming. Go to meetings regularly and participate in sharing your story. Part of the healing is not only accepting you have a disease, but sharing with others around you so you can help them in their journey. I notice that I get more out of the meetings when I share rather than when I don’t.
HOW I MAINTAIN sobriety
During my personal story of addiction, nothing anyone says to you will make a difference. It goes in one ear and out the other. There are two ways you stop: (1) realizing that you are going to lose everything in your life that matters and hitting rock bottom or (2) death. Thankfully, I never got to number 2. It took a marriage therapist staring me in the face and saying, “You are an addict and if you do not get help, you are going to lose your wife.” That stopped me dead in my tracks, and I realized that I had a problem. I realized that I had to change. I knew things had to be different.
For many, meetings are the place where you can get comfort, support and get healthy. For me, it took having to go to an outpatient rehab center three days a week for four months to fully accept that I had a problem and I needed help. If I hadn’t gone, I don’t know where I would be today, but I do know I wouldn’t be living the life I have now.
Get a sponsor. I have never personally met anyone who has gotten and are living sober lives without a sponsor. Sponsors are people that you can call day or night for help. They will help guide you through the steps and are supposed to keep you accountable for your actions, until you are able to do that for yourself. If you need one, go to meetings and listen to people talk. They always ask the group if they are willing to be a sponsor and hands will get raised. Find someone that you connect with in their story and words.
the serenity prayer
Even though my personal story of addiction is in my past, when you are living sober for the first time, thinking that you can never drink or use again is too overwhelming and scary. It’s losing the only coping mechanism that you know, while trying to develop new and healthy ways to deal with pain, anger and despair. It’s not easy. You have to fight every single day to make sure you are doing the next right thing. When you make a mistake, dust yourself off, learn from it, and try to do better the next time. Do not get sucked back into the trap of saying, “I can’t do anything right, what’s the point in continuing living my life this way.” That is your addiction talking.
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” It’s accepting things that come your way with humility. Understanding that you can only change your thoughts and actions, not others. It means living your life in a healthy way. Making sure you surround yourself with people who are going to help you continue your sobriety, not bring you back into the darkness. It means loving yourself, loving who you are, and what you stand for.
I have made many, many mistakes living in sobriety and have done things that are not acceptable. The damage won’t go away. I can try to learn from it and apply those lessons the next time. I continue to take things one day at a time, making sure that I do not allow myself to go back to that dark place. The place where I alienated my friends and family. I can’t make any promises to what the future may hold, but I know if I do the right thing today, it will bring me to a healthier, better tomorrow.