Today is a very special day for me. It’s my birthday. My Third Birthday.

Some of you may be confused, as I was born on April 1, and just turned 50. I make 50 look guuuuuuuud. *snerk*

But this isn’t my “belly-button birthday.” You see, I’m an alcoholic, and today I am 3 years sober. Three amazing years in the making, and the first three of many more to come.

I’ve been wanting to tell people for quite some time; I know that God never wastes a hurt, and if I can help anyone by my testimony, even the slightest bit, then it’s all worth it. Also, if you know me, you know that I’m SO NOT SHY! My life is an open book – ask me anything – and I’ll probably give you an answer that’s just North of TMI. (Too Much Information.)

I asked my husband if he minded if I “came out” as it were, and told a bit of my story. He said he’d support me 100%. I was unsure at first – what would our customers think when they found out? Would they run in droves because I’m an alcoholic? What would others think? As quickly as that thought came into my head, it was gone, and here’s why:

 “Never, for the sake of peace and quiet, deny your own experience or conviction.” That’s a quote by Dag Hammarskjold – Secretary-General of the UN, and the only person to have been awarded a posthumous Nobel Peace Prize. It was a framed poster in my room growing up, and if there’s one thing thing my mom gave me, it’s the confidence to be who I am.

I grew up in Southern California (Irvine and Corona del Mar), daughter of an alcoholic, manipulative, abusive man and a wonderful mom. My mom adopted me when they married, so genetically speaking, it’s my father that gave me this wonderful genetic predisposition. In a roundabout way, I suppose I should thank him. I’ve never been happier in my life, and don’t know if I would be had I not gone to rehab.

I often describe my life as being out of a page of Sunset Magazine – cocktail parties with wonderful food and lots of booze were commonplace at my house. It was lots of fun – until the friends went home, and dad was drunk. He was drunk a lot. Blackout drunk. The yelling and abuse began, and didn’t end until we kicked him out of the house when I was around 14.

When I started my drinking career, it was like anyone else I assume. My co-workers got me trashed on my 21st birthday, and being single in Santa Barbara, the party was ON!

I started binge drinking. I’d be fine for a month or so, then something would set me off and BAM – the next 4 days would be a blur, if I remembered them at all. I “hid” from my family for weeks at a time, then saying everything was fine when I did resurface.

Marriage. Infertility. Starting a business. Twins. Stress. Life. These are all things that happen to people – but when they happen to an alcoholic, it’s usually not a pretty sight. You see, we have an “allergy of the body and obsession of the mind” when it comes to alcohol. I literally have an allergy to it. When I have a sip of alcohol, and it hits my broken brain, all bets are off.

My husband didn’t know what to do. He got very angry as he tried to control me and my drinking, and found that it was actually easier to nail jello to a tree. All the air would leave the room where the large elephant would sit – and we’d do our best to ignore it. Ours was not a happy home – thank God the twins were very young and will never remember that cloud in the air, or Mommy being drunk.

Fast forward to three years ago. My husband was away on a trip to “find himself”, which really meant to get away from me, and I was drinking because finally I could  have a drink without him bothering me! One huge problem is that I was on an anti-depressant – and those and alcohol do NOT MIX.

I could barely function. My friend and I were supposed to take the kids to the Orange County Fair. She came over, found me in a nearly vegetative state, and took the kids with her. I don’t remember her taking them. I do remember trying to get dressed to go to my sister’s bridal shower – something that I was a vital part of. I kept TRYING to get ready to go, but couldn’t pull it together. Thank God there was an angel telling me not to get in that car and drive to Santa Monica. I’m sure I would have killed myself, and possibly taken someone with me had I done so.

My sister called me in tears the next day. She KNEW that I wasn’t going to make it, and had made other plans for my part in the shower, and also the wedding. She told me that the family had actually planned an intervention that was supposed to take place a couple of months earlier, but never did. But during that planning, they chose a place for me to go – in Mission Bay, near San Diego.

“Please Roxanne – will you go? Will you please get help? I’ll come down and drive you.”

“Yes. I’ll go. I need help.”

The next two months were the hardest thing I’ve ever done – being away from my children, and dealing with a very angry man who didn’t understand where to place his anger and helplessness. But I am SO GLAD that I went.

I’m one of the lucky few who “gets it.” I know that alcohol is a place I can’t play. Period.

One one side, there’s Absolute Citron Greyhounds, and Sanford Pinot Noir. And let’s not forget the shots of Jack Daniels for breakfast after I took the kids to school, just to piss off my controlling husband. Add to that losing my life and  jacking my kids up for the rest of their lives because mommy chose the bottle over them. They say that resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the OTHER person dies. But I was drinking the poison. Pretty smart, eh?

On the other side, I don’t drink, I know it’s a really scary thing for me, and I get to live an idyllic, loving, crazy beautiful life with my beautiful children and a husband who adores me. Yes, he’s the same one. *snerk* Plus, I’m much more dangerous sober – I have quite the mischevious mind, and am tack-sharp!

We worked HARD at coming back together. Trust is a hard thing to get back once it’s broken. But if you want it, it can be done.

I told my kids where I was, why Mommy doesn’t drink, and why some people can, and some people can’t. My husband, out of respect for me, doesn’t drink around me. He has the occasional beer when out playing cards with the guys, but that’s it.

And now I’m telling you. I don’t drink. I can’t drink. I won’t drink. There is SO much more to this tale than one blog post can hold. And if you want to know more, call me. Email me. Seriously.

If you have a friend that is hurting, and don’t know how to talk to them – get to an Al-Anon meeting. They helped my husband immensely. If you think you may have a problem – same thing. Call, email, or get yourself to an AA meeting. They are amazing folks, all with stories just like yours and mine.

I’m SO proud to tell all of you this today. Thank you for your understanding, your patience and your love.

To my Mom, Sister, Brother, Husband and Kids, thank you. Thank you so much for your support and love.

Now to all you shooters – get away from your computer and go shoot something AMAZING today!