I am a recovering alcoholic. My sister and I were born into a family of working professionals. Military discipline and rigor were the order of the day at our home. My father was a pilot who demanded total submission to his rule, and my mother abused alcohol. Whatever she expected of my sister and me, she exacted with a shout or by physical force.
I always dreamed of having a home of my own—a home filled with warmth and love. I dreamed of raising my own children without shouts or coercion. Alas, this did not happen. Without realizing it, I began to behave toward my two sons just as my mother did toward my sister and me. And yet I was convinced everything I did was out of love for them. When my husband drew my attention to this, I refused to hear or believe it.
Exhausted by my duties and responsibilities, I began to drink socially after work: a glass of vodka here, a beer there, after which I would feel more relaxed and cheerful. I also began to ease off on some of my responsibilities. I told myself I had a right to let off some steam and get something out of life. Exactly when I crossed the line and fell into addiction, I do not know. To all appearances, everything seemed fine: healthy, well-cared-for children, a lovely, spotless house, my husband and I holding well-paid positions. Yet inside I was a wreck. I was afraid of my own shadow. I was jittery, neurotic, and weary of life. Thoughts of ending it all assailed me with increasing frequently. I hated myself: the person I was, the way I behaved, what I was doing. Despite my wish to live free of alcohol, despite the pleas of my sons and the threats of my husband, I could no longer live without my comforter—vodka. At home there were rows and scuffles, and even interventions by the police. Yet in all this I saw no fault of my own. Before long I was reaping the whirlwind: an automobile accident, a revoked driver’s license, two smashed cars. I was also robbed on several occasions; yet still I went on living with alcohol.
After a second attempt at suicide, I promised my family I would seek treatment. (My older son, barely ten years old, had saved me!) I began going to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. Though I wanted to be sober, I was unable to stick to the therapy for more than a few months. Why, I don’t know. But just then one of my AA friends invited me to attend a directed retreat for alcoholics and their families. I went there with mixed feelings. Though I cried practically the whole way through, I did at least come away with the recollection that God loved me very dearly just as I was, and desired the best for me. I believed this. I began to pray in so far as I was able to. I knelt down every morning and evening, but still I did not feel close to God. I even went on a walking pilgrimage to Częstochowa for the grace of sobriety, but a month later I got thoroughly sloshed.
Just as I thought everything was over and I would not be able to cope, I learned of another retreat for alcoholics, which was to take place at the retreat house of the Sisters of the Most Holy Soul of Christ the Lord. I wanted to go, though I did not feel I deserved this grace, for I had broken my abstinence. As it turned out, I did go.
And it was there that I experienced the miracle of my healing. At night we were to take turns keeping half-hour prayer vigils before the image of the Most Holy Soul of Christ the Lord. I will never forget how full of fear and apprehension I was as I made my way to the chapel. I entered, knelt down and, for the first time in my life, began praying from the depths of my heart. I begged Christ for His help and protection. Gazing up at the image, I felt a great warmth, even though the cool night air was condensing on my face. It seemed to me the rays emanating from the Soul of Christ were caressing and enfolding me in their clasp. I became terribly afraid. Christ seemed to come down to me from the image. I was in such a panic, I wanted to flee the chapel, but something held me back.
Then, for the first and last time (at least, so far) in my life, I heard Christ speak to me. All my fears vanished, and I continued to pray in peace and quiet. I have no words to describe what I experienced during that half hour. On being relieved by the next retreatant, even though I did not want to interrupt my wondrous meeting with Jesus, I returned to my room and wept all through the night. But these were tears of joy.
I felt something momentous had happened to me. Jesus had taken away my obsession for drink. He took away the compulsion that made me drink even when I did not want to drink. Now my life is different. Not a drop of alcohol has passed through my lips since. I am learning to live in the love and friendship of God. I know now that the merciful God had watched over me and my family all through the time of my illness. He never deserted me. He gave me clear signs of His love, though I was unable to see them then. And he healed not only me. After forty years of drinking, my mother has also received the grace of sobriety. Although several times in a drunken state she had knocked herself about so badly that the doctors gave her up for lost, though she has twice broken her hip and now has artificial joints, she is still able to walk unaided. Is this not a miracle? With God nothing is impossible. He heard our prayers and pleas.
Now I have nothing to fear any more. When God is with me, everything is well. I worship Him with great joy. I love Him. I know that with him everything is possible. Thanks to Him, I do not lose my faith, hope, or love, though life is difficult, and I encounter numerous problems every day.
I am working on myself spiritually and have changed my world of values. Now I no longer want to have, but to be. I want to be God’s child. With my life, conduct, and deeds, I want to witness to His love and mercy. I am learning to do this every day. Every morning I ask God that I may discern His will for me. Every evening I thank Him for all the graces He has given me throughout the day. During my examination of conscience I beg His forgiveness for all my mistakes and faults. Frequent recourse to the sacrament of penance and reconciliation makes it possible for me to live such a life; and Jesus refreshes me with His Body in Holy Communion. For all this, glory to God!
Eva
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