Guest Contributor – Kathy M

Me, An Alcoholic?

I spent many years believing I was not an alcoholic. After all, I only drank wine—never the hard stuff. I never drank in the morning, I waited until the respectable hour of 4 p.m.—which got moved to 3 p.m. after retirement, then 2:57, 2:58… blast off. I never got the shakes. I could go months without drinking—until I couldn’t.

I had every excuse in the book. I bought two cases of wine because Total Wine was two towns over and I was “saving gas.” I drank because both of my parents had Alzheimer’s and I was their only child nearby, so everything fell on me. I drank because my husband annoyed me, the weather was cold, the weather was hot… the excuses went on and on.

A Friend’s Invitation

In March of 2023, I got a phone call from a friend asking me to meet for lunch. We were meeting at noon, and I arrived first. I decided to wait to order a beverage until she arrived. If she ordered a drink, I’d order my wine. If not, I didn’t want her to think I was a “drinker.” To my disappointment, she ordered a soft drink.

After catching up, she told me she had invited me to “make amends” for letting our friendship lapse. Hell, I didn’t even know our friendship had lapsed! Then she explained she was in AA and doing her “step work.” I had no idea what she was talking about as she began to share her story.

That night, after consuming my bottle of wine, I thought about what she’d said. I texted her, “I might have an issue with alcohol.” The minute I hit send, I regretted it. I wouldn’t have sent that damn message if I hadn’t had a bottle of wine—my first flicker of awareness. She texted back that she’d be happy to meet me at a local beginners meeting. I said “no thanks.” But every Monday night she’d text, “Beginners meeting tomorrow morning, I’ll be happy to meet you there.”

After a few weeks, I gave in. I figured I could go, say I went, case closed.

I pulled up to a little white church and texted her that I was there. She replied, “I’m inside.” Inside! That wasn’t part of my plan. Now she knew I was there—no turning back. My heart raced as I walked through the door and was greeted by a big smile from a woman who was put together—no trench coat, no brown paper bag in sight.

I sat down and was handed a reading—no thanks. Then someone asked if I wanted phone numbers—nope. I walked out thinking, I did it! But then people said, “See you tomorrow.” Tomorrow? I thought beginner meetings were weekly. That’s when someone told me there were meetings every day. Now I had to rethink things.

The following week was a “business meeting.” I thought I’d just sit in the back. Before I knew it, I walked out with a three-day-a-week coffee commitment! Apparently, “no” was not in my vocabulary.

I came, I sat, I listened. Eventually the words began to sink in. Eventually I raised my hand and truly believed the words of Step 1. My sobriety date is April 24, 2023.

The Gifts of Sobriety

Not long after, my dearest friend of 40 years (more like a sister) called to ask if I’d be with her when she came home on hospice. I hopped on a plane (a huge fear of mine) and stayed with her for two weeks until she passed. What a gift of sobriety that was.

There was plenty of drinking around me, so the morning after she passed I rented a car and drove across Florida to stay with my daughter. This was monumental—I hate driving and get anxious about getting lost. But I did what my AA family taught me: I paused, breathed in God, and breathed out Kathy—a trick my dear friend Rudy taught me. Believe it or not, it worked better than Xanax ever did. Playing Jesus, Take the Wheel, I made it to my daughter’s house five minutes before sundown, a real break for someone who can’t see at night.

Since then, I’ve found a church I love after a 17-year absence. My family relationships are better than ever. And every morning, I wake up grateful.

It was all in God’s plan. I just had to be willing to listen.