Months went by, any my problem grew worse. It got so bad that I was coming home every day and going straight to the refrigerator and grabbing a beer. I didn’t speak to anyone. My kids always ran into their rooms when I walked in the door. There was a yearning for me to get right, but things felt so good just the way they were.
It came to a point where I wasn’t even comfortable being sober, so I kicked my habit by trying another habit. My co-worker at the plant had me try some cocaine with him one day, and my wife noticed I wasn’t buying beer anymore. Things turned for the best for a while, until the urge got the best of me. Waking in cold sweats and wanting to cut myself was a norm now. Yet, my wife stayed by my side. I knew she knew, but we never spoke of it.
My wife obviously became the breadwinner. I was losing my mind, and losing my family. The kids went to live with their grandmother, and my wife eventually left me to do the same. I remember sitting on the bed crying and almost vomiting from being sick and tire do the life that made me feel so good and bad but… I was just getting started with my endeavors.