Friday, December 31, 2010

God Grant Me - A Guest Post from Kristin

A note from Ellie:

I didn't ask Kristin to send me this guest post; she did it all on her own. 

I read her words holding my breath.  

Her email spoke right to the center of me.   Many people will live their whole lives and never have to muster the kind of courage it takes to write words like this .. to stand and look at - really look at - the cold, hard, truth that hides in the deepest shadows of their heart, fiendishly calling the shots, slowly eclipsing the love and light in their life.

Taking away something we use to numb ourselves - to escape, to step into an alternate reality just for a bit  whether it is alcohol, drugs, food, sex, gambling, shopping - is terrifying.    It strips us down to the core, exposes us to vulnerability, imperfection, guilt and fear.   It takes serious guts to stand and face those things about ourselves we wish weren't true.

But I know this for certain:   on the other side of the darkness is Grace.   Speaking a truth like Kristin's is the beginning of an amazing journey into self, light and love.   

Here is Kristin's post.   Please offer her your love and support.  


God Grant Me

I didn't mean for this to happen.

I guess no one does, but I really didn't. Because I should know better.

Hi, I'm Kristin.

My family has a history with addiction. Mostly alcohol. And they say this disease can be genetic. But in the nature versus nurture game, I thought I was in the clear. My parents both quit drinking before I was born. Years before I was born. So I never saw the addiction, never learned the addiction.

I thought I was in the clear.

But I'm not. And I need to come to terms with that.

Because I've got a kid that I love more than anything. Me? I hate to say it but I'd gamble if it were just me.

But it's not.

I read recently that SIDS deaths increase drastically on new year's day. Because caretakers are too drunk to manage putting their kids to sleep properly.

And while I want to judge and shame those parents, I can't. I've been drunk in the year since Alex was born. Too drunk. I don't drink every day and so I tell myself I'm "ok".

But when I drink?

It's a lot. It's unhealthy. It's too much.

Sometimes? I can't remember.

Sometimes? I black out.

And I'm scared.

Scared of what I might do. Scared of what I did do. Scared of saying the words "I need to quit."

Because I'm ashamed. I'm so ashamed I can't handle this. I'm ashamed that I'm not better than some stupid gene in my body.

I do so well sometimes.

But doing well just gives me an excuse to tell myself I'm ok.

And then I get together with friends and they refill my glass. To be nice. And they refill it again. Because I am drinking so quickly. I start to lose track of how many times they refill it. I'm not doing it myself! It's ok if I'm not doing it myself, right?

But still, it gets done.

And eventually, I start to do it myself. Even though I know better. Because I'm too drunk to care.

And my son sleeps. I don't drink while he's awake. Which makes it ok, right?

Please God, I pray, let him stay asleep. Let him be safe. Because he is not safe with me now. Please don't let him need me to care for him because I'm not equipped to right now. Let him stay asleep and be safe.

Praying that prayer? Is disgusting. Knowing this, why can't I tell them to stop pouring? Why I can't I tell them what I am?

Here's a secret: I relished being pregnant. Not only was I growing a beautiful life inside me, but no one pressured me to drink.

Well, one person pressured me to drink.

But he didn't really want to be around me while I was pregnant anyway. Getting pregnant lost me a friend. Well, not really a friend. A drinking buddy.

While I was pregnant I didn't have to explain to people that I couldn't drink because I can't control myself. I didn't have to tell them how awful I am with it.

But I'm going to have to start explaining. Because I can't be pregnant forever. And I can't keep drinking.

Why can't I tell people what I am? Because of my shame. I want to be normal. I put on a good act most of the time.

But I'm not normal. And I don't think people will understand that. I think they'll try to talk me out of quitting. Or they'll just stop talking to me altogether because who wants one of THOSE in their life?

Those that do understand how I am? Calling myself a drunk would be calling them drunks too. And that would just be impolite.

Hi, I'm Kristin. And I still can't say it.

I feel like saying it would let my parents down. They worked so hard to never bring this into my life. But I slid here anyway.

But I have to say it.

Because I'm not safe. Because I don't want to die. Or endanger anyone else. Or lose my husband. Or put my child at risk. Or lose a child to SIDs because I'm too drunk to care for them.

I hate myself when I wake up the morning after drinking. I cry copiously. I apologize to my husband. Profusely, I apologize to him. I hate that I drank so much. I hate that I don't remember how much I drank. I hate me.

I've sworn it off before. But it doesn't stick because I can't admit to my friends what I am. Maybe I haven't wanted to admit it to myself either.

Hi, I'm Kristin. And I'm an alcoholic.


  1. thank you, kristin, for being so brave... it's a tough thing to admit but now that you did -- you can start working. there is a better life - you deserve it! though aa, i have made so many friends and the thing i admire most of my 'sober sisters' is their raw honesty.
    stay strong girl!
    my name is nicole and i am an alcoholic... i'll be thinking of you,

  2. you have now taken Step One on your amazing day at a time my friend in namesake and our disease....

    xoxo Kristin sober since 7/18/07

  3. I just wanted to offer a word of support. This is not the battle I face, but I know many do. I hope you find all that you need to be victorious each day.

  4. There. You said...It. What sweet and painful surrender. A surrender that takes such courage, to overcome the fear of That Word and the truth in it. It's HARD. And you're talking about it. Keep talking. That's all you need to do for right now. Keep talking.

    Peace to you.

  5. My heart was in my throat as I read this. I am just like you, but I haven't had the guts to admit to myself - let alone anyone else. Reading this, though, I know I need to somehow find the strength to STOP. Thank you for this. I hope to find the courage to do this. Soon.

  6. Kristin, thank you for the courage to post your story. It is so hard to say "it". I know, I realy do. I could have written this post almost 3 years ago. I'm so grateful you already have 2 recovering alcoholic parents. What a gift. My daughter has 2 alcoholic parents, 1 recovering (me), 1 not. I'm so full of gratitude that she knows where to go if and when she needs to. And for the record, I still think -we're- the normal ones. ; )

  7. The greatest gift sobriety gave me was no longer hating myself. And I mean that.

    Love to you.

  8. Kristin,

    This is a disease. It is bigger than you. It is in your blood. Stop beating yourself and start helping yourself. Coming here and saying this is a great start. You'd never expect to cure yourself of cancer, how do you expect to cure yourself of an addiction you were pre-disposed to? Get help Get help get help.

    I have faith in you. I see hope. I don't see anything hateful.

  9. I went to Alanon for awhile. It was good for me. I had to take the first step too. You just did. I had no idea Alanon would be good for me, but it was. I had a stereotype in my head of the kinds of people who would be there but everyone was totally normal. And all their alcoholics were normal too. You are totally normal. But you probably need AA. It will be good. You should go. You can do it.

  10. Hi Kristin!!! I know how hard taking that first step can be but what you did here is an amazing leap. I wish you the best.

  11. Such a brave post. You said it. Now you can take the next step.

    You are so normal, do you know how many of us there are? And we've quit, and you can, too. Love to you as you start on this journey back to loving yourself.

  12. I admire your courage. This fight for your life will be challenging but so worth it. I'm surrounded by alcoholics, and have been my whole life. I know how hard it can be to do the right thing, the best thing for you and your family. Finding the courage to live honestly is a great place to start.

    Best, best of luck to you.

  13. I've written a post SO SIMILAR to this just a day ago. I asked a friend to post it because I'm afraid to add my name to it. This could be my story. And you're incredibly strong to say the words.

  14. Realizing that I had a disease was a HUGE part of taking the first step, for me... I was struggling so much with the 'moral' issue... thinking I was just weaker than most people. Realizing it was a disease helped me overcome a lot of the shame, and also helps me stay strong now.. if someone is told they have cancer but that it's treatable, the usual response is "what do I have to do? I'll do anything." For me, it was the same with my alcoholism. Now I feel blessed that it IS treatable. And the side effects include self-love, honesty, patience and clarity. Not bad.


  15. Best to you, brave Kristin

  16. The top wrinkle creams are overflowing with vitamins like Vitamin and mineral anti wrinkle cream in cutting freckles evidently.
    [url=]anti wrinkle cream[/url] A single problem with Neutrogena Balanced
    Skin color Zero-Wrinkle Cream, prepared spud you have close
    to your meal. Of course, such a thing happens progressively, however, if we achieve http:
    // natural product,
    and would want to obtain it.