The day after the last night I ever drank alcohol, I found myself curled up in a sickly ball on the floor of my friend Michele’s Upper East Side apartment, the embodiment of the shame spiral. As the previous evening flashed through my mind in bits and pieces, each scene inducing more self-loathing than the last, I sobbed.
* There I was, spilling my scotch and water at dinner with Michele’s sweet sister and brother-in-law visiting from Texas, the evening barely begun.
* There I was, drunk dialing the hedge fund manager crush du jour, slurring out my undying love onto his voicemail.
* There I was, throwing up in the bathroom of the nicest loft I’d ever been in, at a party where I knew nobody.
* There I was, stumbling around an oddly-deserted Tribeca in platform sandals, seeking a cab, my friends long having abandoned me to my antics.
These weren’t like the flashbacks in college where you and your friends would gather in the dorm lounge to relive the night before and laugh and laugh and laugh. “And then she threw up Everclear punch in the snow!” “Did you see him passed out in a toga on the quad!” “You were doing the worm to a slow dance!”
No, at 33 years old, my friends were no longer joining in the ‘fun.’ The shame was mine alone and it ate me from the inside out.
It was easy to start drinking. Socially I was a mess, the smart girl who never went to prom, and drinking opened up a whole new me to me. Confident, funny, the social butterfly, the life of the party. And drinking never messed me up academically or professionally. I managed to drink and excel through college, through law school, through my first job as a lawyer in Washington, D.C., through my first few years in New York City. It was easy to think my drinking wasn’t a problem, because “I never drink alone” or “It never affects my work” or “It’s only on weekends.”
It’s easy, when you are single in Manhattan, to treat the island as a big campus, and you are Peter Pan. It’s easy to never grow up.
I certainly didn’t know that this would be the last hangover at the time. There had been hundreds of ‘days after’ when I swore I would never drink again. But this time, someone called me out. Michele stared at my pathetic form on her floor and said, simply, but sternly and kindly:
“Cindy, you can’t drink.”
Nobody had ever said it to me before so baldly. “Cindy, you can’t drink so much”, sure, but never, “Just stop.” I knew it; I’d said it to myself over and over, but to hear it out loud from a close friend felt like a shot to the gut. They know. Everybody knows. My shame escalated a million-fold, but the message? That stuck. Cindy, you can’t drink.
And I haven’t. Fourteen years ago today, I made a choice. I lashed myself to the masts to move past the siren song of alcohol. We don’t have these watershed moments very often in our lives, but when we do, the air has a before-the-storm electric clarity. A paradigm shifts beneath us.
I worry about my kids. Alcoholism runs deep in my family and though my kids are not related to me biologically, I still want to fall at their feet when they hit high school and beg them never to start. Because who knows? With that first beer or glass of wine will their brains light up – as mine did – and whisper: “Yes. This. This is what we’ve needed.” Will it fill the chasms inside them so they will never want to stop?
I ambled home from Michele’s the twenty or so blocks to my apartment, rehydrating with a 20-ounce Coke. Exhausted, I slept a dreamless sleep and woke up squinting at the sun.
I stepped out into the bright light of a newly captured day.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ironically, I’m hanging out at the Yeah, Write Speakeasy this week. Don’t worry, I’m nursing an O’Doul’s at the big table in the back.
Happy sobriety day! Alcoholism runs deeply in our family, as well, and that scares me for my children (even the ones that aren’t biologically related). I think it just comes from wanting the best for our kids- no matter how we got them! Thanks for sharing your story so bravely!
Happy anniversary, lady.
Thanks – you inspire me in so many ways, Cec.
Very powerful. 14 years sober is an amazing accomplishment.
Cindy my dear, you are like a parfait. Every time you reveal a new layer, I begin to understand a little better why you’re so freaking delicious/awesome.
This is how blogging should be done–keep up the great work, and thank you for sharing so honestly. You’re an inspiration.
Thank you so much, Nancy <3
Wow. That’s the most amazing compliment. This was a beautiful read. I was right there with you.
“With that first beer or glass of wine will their brains light up – as mine did – and whisper: “Yes. This. This is what we’ve needed.””
Amazing writing. Hugs and congrats.
Cindy you have amazing strength and wisdom! I’m lucky to call you my friend!
Thanks, sweetness!
Congratulations, Cindy! I know the feeling all too well. Only it took me until I was 53, had ruined one marriage, almost ruined a second, had more jobs than I can remember, lost most of my friends, and still had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. Yes, indeed. Peter Pan. The puer aeternus. At the end of my drinking I felt like George Bailey in “It’s A Wonderful Life” when his life. The difference is that I had no Clarence coming down from on high to show me that I wasn’t a worthless failure. That didn’t happen until I decided to take the first of those 12 Steps. It’s changed my life. Believe it or not, today I’m an interfaith minister working with a small Unitarian Universalist congregation who actually called me to be their minister! Who’da thunk it? Thanks for a great post! One day at a time.
Ha! Sorry for the incomplete sentence. Meant to write “…when his life sucked.”
One day at a time for sure, Paul. Fist-bump!
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. No, never mind. Math was never my strong suit and you’ve pushed me way over the limit of what I can add up on my helpful digits. Seriously, girl. You are the real deal. Of course you worry about your girls – we do as well and alcoholism runs like a raging river in our family and through their blood. But you know what those lucky Reed ladies have in their superhero tool belt to help fight crime and temptation? An amazing, honest, supportive, loving, REAL mother. You’re alcohol’s freakin’ kryptonite, yo.
You do graphic design, right? Because I totally need a “My alcohol’s freakin’ kryptonite, yo” t shirt.
Thank goodness for friends like yours. What’s that Oscar Wilde quote? “A true friend stabs you in the front.”
A very brave post, Cindy. Congratulations on your 14 years!
I LOVE that quote.
Cindy, you are brave and courageous! Your kids will benefit from your strength and you can share that with them and teach them how to have it. Thank you for this very intimate sharing.
Congrats, Cindy. While I have not given up drinking, I have stopped drinking my usual glass of wine every evening – it interferes with trying to write.
Very powerful post, my friend. While I don’t fight with alcohol, we all have our demons and I can relate to this all (painfully) too well. Congrats on each and every day you’ve fought these past 14 years, and thank you for sharing your story!
Thanks Abby – as long as we keep telling our stories, you and I, I hope they will resonate. <3
Can I just tell you how much I adore you? Oh, I think I just did. But there’s more. You are brave, beautiful, funny, and you wear a swobe. Truly, you are the zombie princess and you deserve a big ol’ cake with a boatload of frosting.
Yes. A big cake that says: I don’t drink, motherfuckers! Can you make that?
This is the best cake message ever. Do you think I could borrow it for my daughter’s 10th this weekend? Or is that too weird?
Yes, yes, yes, to all of this.
… and now I see why my bathroom floor shame spiral post resonated so much with you. It’s all clear now, my friend! But where I had many a writing blunder, you have none. This was real, honest, and brutal to read. I was right there with you. “It’s easy, when you are single in Manhattan, to treat the island as a big campus, and you are Peter Pan. It’s easy to never grow up.” <– truer words have never been spoken.
My dear, I hope you know that you have the support of not only me, but this entire community. Brava.
Yep. Been on that bathroom floor
Thanks Shady <3
You are the second person I know who has described the air feeling different the moment she decided to stop drinking. I find that fascinating and I find you incredibly brave. And fun to party with totally sober.
Wow. And yes – a big revelation was that I was still funny and fun even without the drink in my hand.
Excellent. Thank you for sharing in such an eloquent manner.
I didn’t know what an O’Doul’s was until I could infer it from your speakeasy shout-out.
This is a beautiful post. Raw and real, many people will see themselves in it. Maybe because of you they will feel confident about changing their lives for the better. The dance with alcohol always gets more dangerous when it becomes unclear who is leading.
Michele deserves credit for courage, but you’re ability to really hear what she said is what saved you, I think. I’m really moved by this and I have to think about things a bit, now, because you wrote it.
Thank you Flood for your beautiful comment.
OMG YOU ARE SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE SAYING THE GREATEST THINGS. I’m gonna hang out here a little because you attract what you are.
What a beautiful and brave post! Just as I’m sure the real life enactment was.
“We don’t have these watershed moments very often in our lives, but when we do, the air has a before-the-storm electric clarity. A paradigm shifts beneath us.”
This is beautiful, and so apt for major life realizations of all kinds. So extraordinarily well written, and so incredibly brave of you to share this turning point in your life.
Way to go, Reed! (Yes, I just called you “Reed,” as if I were your coach — but not, like, that creepy coach who stays in the locker room a wee bit too long.) It’s hard to quit *anything* that makes you feel like a better version of yourself, even when you eventually realize you’ve driven past “better version” and circled right back into “crap version”. It takes a brave person to open your eyes — and an even braver one to act on what you’ve seen. Proud of you, Reed. Way to go. Two laps around the gym.
Hi Cindy – Congratulations on 14 years! I have felt for awhile now that that particular word never quite covered the depth and breadth of what it is to mark time in recovery…but that is the best one I have for today. Your honesty and courage are limitless! For me – this post captures ‘it’. What it is to be in it – all the way to the moment where a different choice is finally made. I am slowly but surely learning over the long haul that recovery is more of an inside job but every single day I am so very grateful for any and all outside sources of inspiration
Thank-you for this post.
Love to you.
Yay, Cindy! So glad for you, and thankful for this post.
You’re like a parfait in an opaque glass, or a parfait in a parfait glass in a brown paper bag. Either way, thanks for sharing those layers of greatness.
In a Ziploc bag, with the yellow-and-blue seal makes green. Or something. Love to you, cuz.
Thank you for your brutal honesty and courage. You are able to to capture in words what so many of us have expeienced in our lives. Well done!
Thanks Dan
Congrats, Cindy. This was a great Very Special Episode of The Reedster Speaks. You are a pleasure to get to know through the internets.
I don’t know what I’ll do for the next episode. I think it will be the one where Blossom’s dad finds a joint in her bed.
I. LOVE. YOU.
so proud of you.
and congrats on your sobriety. it takes a strong person.
and you epitomize strength.
I love you back, sweet Erin.
14 years is quite an accomplishment! Congrats!
So, you know how I thought I loved you before? Wrong. Now? Now I really love you. I’m so glad you got sober so you could make people fall in love with you. I’m terrified for my kids, because addiction likes our genes. A lot.
Alchoholism runs deep in my family as well and knowing that I’ve always been hyperaware of my drinking habits. You are amazing. This was a wonderful amazing beautiful piece and kudos to you for taking your life back on your own.
I just want you to know that I think you are amazing.
I am rubber, you are glue. Etc.
This is beautiful and brave. I don’t think I can say anything better than anyone else. It takes an amazing amount of self-awareness to change your life while looking up from the bottom. You and your talent are so worth it.
Really excellent post. As usual.
Lady of the swobe, you are amazing. Perhaps it truly felt like your only course of action that day, but to make such a significant decision and stick to it while still dealing with life’s difficulties sober, well that is courageous. Congratulations on your 14th year.
Keep coming back! It sounds like you and your higher power are in sync. From your story, it is easy to tell you are a beautiful person.
Congrats on your 14th year and for writing about it so honestly and courageously. None of this is easy.
Damn, here I am in a long line of comments that have said so much of what I wanted to say! The layers, yes! – parfait, I didn’t think of; the astounding you being so beautifully revealed. Thank you. This post comes at a crucial time for me, as I deal with a good friend’s problem with drinking. The Oscar Wilde quote & Michelle’s words I salt away for use.
Thanks. Keep on keepin’ on.
Thanks Murphy! I hope that this can be a help to you, your friend, and others who battle demons of addiction.
Congrats, Cindy, on 14 years of being true to yourself. I enjoy reading your blog and I’m grateful to online friends (yes, I feel a connection to all the bloggers & writers I interact with!) like you for sharing and being inspirational. Thank you!
The online connection is strong, no? The comments and private emails I’ve received on this post have overwhelmed me.
Much love to you, Cindy.
Fantastic! Thank you for being vulnerable, courageous and honest in sharing your story. It will help many and inspire even more. Congratulations on your 14 years!!!
Congratulations on 14 years! And thank you to your friend Michele for jostling you awake that morning because now we get to know you and cheer for you and celebrate with you. Many hugs and a toast to you with sparking cider!
Happy Sobriety Day! What a vivid picture you paint of the mind of an alcoholic. Very well-written.
The only word that comes to my mind is AUTHENTIC! You are the most authentic, brave, funny, amazing, crazy, creative and loving woman I know. I bow in honor to you my dear! XOXO!
(hugs)
Wow, Cindy. Never knew that about you. Thank you for sharing such a powerful post. I’ve been in and out of twelve step programs…especially OA. I am filled with new admiration for your humbleness and an incredible accomplishment. You are inspiring!
Thank you so much, Kathleen. Fist-bump.
A lot of people go for the long, super-tall rollercoasters. But experienced riders know that often the small, compact coasters pack amazing thrills too. That is a Reedster blog – in a short space, you take your readers up and down, around unexpected sharp turns, stomach lifting bumps and get them thrilled, scared and/or have them laughing out loud – but end up pasting a smile on their faces (sometimes with the addition of a tear) – and when it’s done, it always seems too short, and we’re ready to go again right away.
Knowing you, I am:
A) Sorry you went through this experience
B) So happy for you to have come through it and be where you are
C) A little in awe of what that must have taken
D) Anxious to get right back on the roller-coaster, wherever it goes next!
thanks for your writing.
p.s. re: a WHS prom – you didn’t miss much
People who went to prom ALWAYS SAY THAT ABOUT PROM! Seriously, not even the “New York, New York” themed WHS prom?
Your comment stunned me. Thank you. You should totally start a blog. Hugs.
This is a truly amazing post! Congrats for being sober 14years. To me, the most subtly pointed part was “And drinking never messed me up academically or professionally.” That’s true for a lot of people, I’m sure, and makes it harder to recognize the problem.
I don’t think my dad believes it even now. “But you achieved so much”….+
Cindy, thank you for sharing this. I never knew this about you until now. But then, as people say, you never know until you find out. I find it interesting that you seem so tipsy on the experience of being alive, happy, leaping confidently from thought to thought, loving your life, and your kids, and your writing with such ease and clarity that anyone around you need only breathe in your life force to feel as if they’ve just had their first sip of champagne at a promising party.
Thank you for deepening our experience of you. And congrats on 14 years. You’re an inspiration without this story, but your colors are even sharper now.
Love,
Chris
Chris – thank you so much for this beautiful comment – with your usual flair for language, which I love. Hugs to you.
Lovely and true. Sober here since January, 1, 1995. I sure don’t yet have the guts to write about it. Glad you do. Glad you.
High five, sister. Took me a long time to even say it out loud, I’ve been amazed at the emails and DMs I’ve gotten on this post. Raise your voice, C.
Congratulations on 14 years. Beautiful post.
Congratulations – beautiful post.
Happy Sobriety Day!!!! Thank you for putting it all out there, once again, in your one of a kind way. You pave the way for so many others, in so many ways. You are an inspiration, strong and courageous, honest and beautiful. To every bright new day in your life. Much love to you!
awesome!! and good for you- happy anniversary!!
crazy proud for you – you are doing right by your kids and they will make you proud!
Well, bless my soul. We are sisters, Reedster. I will have 8 years November 16th. The inner world that was always there has had a chance to open up and live since 2004. I have cleared out illusions that had tectonic weight in where I took my life. For you I can see the massive creative impulse is flourishing. And why not? Keep on dancing Reedster. Momma’s got game.
Congrats Ellie! It’s pretty freeing when alcohol no longer has that control over us. Strength, friend.
Congratulations on 14 years! That’s amazing. My husband is now 3 1/2 years sober, so I have firsthand experience with alcoholism. Our oldest girl is in middle school now, and we already talk openly about the dangers of ever drinking because there’s so much alcoholism in the family that we want to make it clear to our kids that they are potentially even more at risk than others, even though we know addiction can happen to anyone. I love hearing stories about people who have successfully stayed sober – thanks for sharing!
I have friends and family who I hope can say this one day. Congratulations and I wish you continued success.
Beautiful post full of raw honesty that I am certain was not easy to share. Well done my friend.
This is so beautifully written, and I can relate. Congratulations on fourteen years. God bless.
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