The Day I Quit

A dear friend recently asked me about the day I quit drinking. So here's the story...

Spring, 1993
I had been holed up in my bedroom for many months. The man I was living with, John, brought me food once in awhile, but mostly he just left me alone.

I had been unemployed for about 17 months, and actually unemployable for much longer than that.

I could no longer smoke pot because it sent me into coughing convulsions. I was often doubled over in pain because of something that felt like an ulcer. I was coughing up blood.

I drank vodka straight from the bottle in my room, with the TV droning on.


May 16, 1993
Something happened. I heard God.

Now, I'm not saying I hallucinated, or I heard audible voices, or anything like that. But I distinctly heard God speak to me -- or more accurately, I heard Him speak to my heart. And this is what He said:

"Karen, if you let me, I will change your entire life."

It startled me, actually. It was so clear, so obvious. I was very, very drunk, but it got through to me.

I stumbled to my bathroom where a calendar hung on the wall. On it, I scribbled these words:

"Don't forget -- God will change my whole life."

I wrote that on my calendar because I knew I would forget if I didn't write it down. (I kept that calendar page, by the way.)


May 17, 1993
The next morning, I saw what I had written. My first thought was,

"OK, fine. Whatever. I don't care. If you want to change my life, then have at it. Be my guest. Go ahead. No one's stopping you. I honestly don't care."

That morning, I was coughing up a lot of blood. John took me to the emergency room. I don't remember much about it at all.

From there, somehow I ended up at St. Helena Hospital in Healdsburg, California, in their inpatient alcohol & drug rehab unit. I don't remember arriving. I do remember getting word that I would be able to stay because I still had a month of COBRA benefits remaining from when I lost my job 17 months earlier.

I remember the room they put me in. I was sharing it with another woman -- a nurse from a hospital in Northern California who had been busted stealing pharmaceutical drugs. I don't remember her name and I don't remember much about her.

I went to sleep that afternoon, and slept all night.

That was it.
That was the first day I did not drink alcohol since 1977. The date was May, 17, 1993. I have never picked up a drink since.

A few important (important to me, anyway) points about that day:

• I didn't choose the date.

• I didn't choose to quit drinking. (Quitting was not something I ever would have chosen to do.)

• There was no fanfare.
  

• I simply stopped fighting.

• I had run out of brilliant ideas, plans, schemes, and answers.

• I was empty and utterly defeated.

"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world... the Master calls a butterfly."

Karen