Five years ago, at this time, I was well on the way to getting drunk.

I had left an AA meeting where I had picked up my first 30 day chip. I hung out in the parking lot of the church until the last person left. It was Saturday night and I was overwhemingly lonely and consumed with the craving to drink. My head was spinning and my skin was crawling.

I thought I had remembered there was a 10:00 meeting in the area. I knew if I could make it there, I'd be OK. The meeting there was Friday nights, not Saturday. Arriving to darkness, I felt it was a 'sign' it was OK to head to the bar. I couldn't bear to go home alone. I had no place else to go. Stopping at the first store to begin guzzling all I could before arriving to face my (then) husband, sister and brother and a host of 'friends' that had already learned of my attempts to get sober through AA.

I was embarrased and felt like a failure again. But it was familiar. I wasn't alone anymore, I was with family and friends. This is where I belonged. It was what I wanted and thought I needed. They didn't ask for an explanation. There wasn't a point in trying to stop me, as I had already starting the cycle.

I remember being in the bathroom with a couple of girls, Donnie (a long time guy friend) and a bag of cocaine. Donnie & I discussed AA. He said he was proud of me and if I decided to go back, he would go too. He said he knew he needed to stop.

I remember others warning my husband I was in no shape to ride home on the back of the Harley. I remember falling into the gravel trying to get on the bike. I remember throwing my helmet off on the way home. I remember him getting pissed that we might get pulled over for me not having a helmet on. I remember it was messing my hair up and I didn't want it anymore.

I remember waking up, realizing what I had done and the self-hate consumed me. I remember wanting to die. I remember being afraid I was going to die. I remember never wanting to see or speak to another--ever. I remember having yet another hellish hangover. I remember the nausea, headache, dehydration, nose swollen shut, dizziness, shaking all over and how the brightness of the day pierced through me like razors. I remember making myself throw up so I could force the last of the alcohol from my body. I hated the alcohol, cocaine and myself with all my being.

I remember the walk of shame into the living room to see the disappointment, condemnation, confusion and disgust in my husbands eyes. I remember tying to find my pocketbook so I could choke down my first cigarette of the day. I remember going out to my car for them and my car not being there. I had to ask where my car was. "No, of course, I don't remember! ....No I don't remember anything. Hell no, I don't want to hear what I did or said. Except how did I get the scrapes and bruises?"

I don't remember where my children were or how I got my car back or what I did the rest of the day and night. I imagine I slept, cried and beat myself into oblivion. I waited until Monday to re-white chip. Another walk of shame. More tears. More guilt and remorse. Thirty days sober for nothing, I thought. The only thing I remember from the meeting is someone telling me "Nobody can take away your 30 days sobriety. It's still yours. What you learned is still with you. You came back so you didn't fail. You succeeded. Just don't give up today. Just don't drink today".

October 2, 2000. I was sober all day. And everyday since, up to today.

Sade (say-d)