Merideth, before and after starting her recovery journey.
I found recovery when I was 19 years old. I experimented with many substances including alcohol, benzodiazepines, and pain killers for five years. My battle with drugs and alcohol landed me in jail, hospitals, and a long-term treatment facility. For the first couple of years of my sober journey, I believed there was one way to recover: Go to meetings, get a sponsor, and work the steps. While this works for many people, we must remember that Bill Wilson, the founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, created these solutions before the plague of opioid addiction.
For example, I am sure that Bill W. could not foresee Purdue Pharma’s introduction of Oxycontin in 1995 as a “less-addictive opioid pill.” This lie has led us to a public health crisis with an estimated death toll of 100,306 people annually, as reported by the CDC. I have seen hundreds go into the same meetings as me who did not make it back because they died later that day. I have witnessed far more of my friends dying in the “solution” (a term often used in 12 Step groups) than I did in my days of getting high. That is when I became open to different pathways to recovery.
These problems aren’t just about opiates, either. According to Mental Health America, alcoholism and co-occurring disorders have increased significantly in the last five years, with 95,000 people dying from alcohol-related causes annually and 132 people committing suicide each day. These are real numbers that include our family, friends, coworkers, and neighbors. So, what do we do?
I am no expert, but I know that I can no longer sit back and watch your son, daughter, mother, or father die from another overdose. I share my story as much as I can, and I recover out loud in hopes that I may change the way America sees recovery. I hope that we can eliminate the stigma surrounding harm reduction, medically assisted treatment, and drug liberalization. We need to make resources accessible and affordable. People should receive quality treatment regardless of their age, gender, race, or economic status. I dream of a day when substance use disorder and its co-occurring conditions are no longer the leading cause of death in America.
Achieving this reality takes ACTION.
We can start by having conversations in our homes, communities, and workplaces to bring about awareness. I encourage everyone to always carry Narcan, utilize your local needle exchange, and never use substances alone; we are in the business of saving lives.
Then we can discuss decriminalization. The decriminalization of substance use disorder is imperative because the “war on drugs” has not worked and will not work. Almost 90% of our prison population has the chronic disease of addiction and should be participating in treatment or re-entry programs rather than being punished. We need funding for local communities to grow substance use disorder services rather than financing “locking them up.” We need to accept people where they are because nobody can attend a meeting if they are dead. This means welcoming people into the recovery community regardless of what stage of their recovery they are in or what pathway they have chosen.
Merideth in her current role.
There are many ways to tackle this public health crisis, but I believe it is essential to focus on our communities and the part we play. We need to go to the polls to vote, share our stories often, and speak out about drug policy. Your voice is more powerful than you think, and you can make an impact! An old-timer in a meeting once said, “What you can’t do alone, we can accomplish together.”
If you have any questions about what you can do in your community or want to learn more about any topics discussed, please feel free to reach out to me.
Meredith Booth is located in Louisville, Kentucky. She has been in recovery for over five years and currently works as a treatment advocate in a rehabilitation facility. To contact her directly or for any inquiries, please email her at merideth.booth714@gmail.com.
Looking at different recovery options? Check out Getting Help.
Jacqueline’s first words that I ever read were, “I never thought of myself as an alcoholic. I never lost a job because of it, had no DUIs, my relationships were alright. I always had other excuses for why I would end up in the emergency department. It wasn’t until last year, when I spent 46 days in the hospital and almost died, that I was diagnosed with alcoholic liver disease. A few months later, I ended up on the liver transplant list. I am now sober, but I’m living my life waiting for a miracle recovery or for my MELD score to skyrocket and get a liver transplant.” Jacqueline wrote to me when she read the NPR article about the increase of alcoholic liver disease in women. Immediately, I had to connect with her. When we chatted, Jacqueline had recently had surgery, so she wasn’t ready at the moment to share, but it was enough to make an impact on me. I made sure to save her number.
Today, a text notification went off, and when I went to swipe up on my screen, the miracle had happened, Jacqueline reached out. She is feeling better and is off the transplant list! Now that we finally had the opportunity to talk, the question was, how did she get here?
Jacqueline was born in a suburb of Boulder, Colorado, and spent her childhood between Colorado and a college town in Minnesota. We didn’t chat too much about her early childhood. Still, like many other people with alcohol abuse disorder, Jacqueline started drinking and smoking cigarettes in middle school. Early on, Jacqueline was successful at managing both drinking and life’s responsibilities. Through middle school and high school, she went to school, worked as a nanny and part-time in restaurants, and practiced all kinds of dance at an art academy, and of course, partied.
Like many of the women I get the honor of speaking to, Jacqueline is a trauma survivor. Her voice shook as she recalled the experience of getting raped when she was 16. Her parents were out of town, and there were friends over for a party. The guy she had a crush on ripped peace from her that night.
In her own home.
In her own bed.
Her friends turned their backs on her, victim-blaming her because she happened to have a crush on him. So, what about her family? Jacqueline wanted to clarify that her mother always has had the best of intentions for her. Still, Jacqueline mentioned that her mother struggled to get Jacqueline the support for her mental health needs at that turning point in her life. Trapped by the stigma of mental health problems, Jacqueline’s mother allowed her to get therapy. However, a thorough diagnosis of the effects of the trauma on Jacqueline and difficulties she had with learning were never fully addressed at that time. In turn, Jacqueline’s coping mechanisms while becoming a young woman were anything but healthy.
After high school, Jacqueline’s parents sent her to Colorado on her own to escape an abusive boyfriend in Minnesota. He constantly tried to control her, kept her in spaces against her will, and threatened to injure her. Jacqueline suffered this ordeal in secret until she confided in her sister-in-law, who alerted her parents. It was a significant change to be in a different state suddenly, but it was incredibly liberating to be on her own. She had a car, followed her own schedule, and did what she wanted. She was independent. “I finally wasn’t grounded anymore!” She exclaimed. Jacqueline provided for herself, working multiple jobs, including medical secretary, emergency room registration, teaching dance, and bartending. Despite her many positions, she managed to party, drink, and do well.
Relationships typically didn’t help make Jacqueline’s life better. She was drawn to unavailable individuals who already in relationships, married, or simply emotionally unavailable. She was a hopeless romantic that never wanted to fall in love. Once, there was a doctor she was seeing who had seen her wit and intelligence. He encouraged her to enroll in college. She did well in her first year, but suddenly things “hit a wall” for her that summer and her drinking started to take a turn for the worse. Though Jacqueline did well in school, she accepted a job she was passionate about starting. Suddenly, the position was dissolved, and she felt lost. Lost, with student debt, and alone again.
Eventually, circumstances led Jacqueline to the live music scene. She met her current partner of five and a half years when she saw him at a concert. Ever since they connected, they’ve been inseparable. They have supported each other through all of life’s challenges, including Jacqueline needing to turn her life around.
The couple drank together, being often around musicians. They had a lot of fun, and though they sometimes had drunken arguments, they enjoyed each other, too. Despite their heavy drinking, the two were able to buy a home, keep employment. They functioned successfully, so though Jacqueline deep down inside she knew something was probably wrong, it was easy to ignore. “I wasn’t what you consider a typical alcoholic.”
Another incident struck Jacqueline’s life that brought her drinking to another level of escalation. She was injured at work and had to take time off. She also had to fight her then employer in court to get compensated. Suddenly being trapped at home, being in pain, and being stressed about her finances, Jacqueline needed to numb herself to escape the pain of everyday living in these circumstances. Alcohol relieved her stress and her anxiety. Between her and her partner, they drank about two-thirds to three-fourths of a handle of liquor a night. They drank like this from 2018 onward.
Jacqueline eventually started noticing that she was eating less. She wasn’t thirsty anymore, either. It would be like this for days. She was getting dizzy more regularly. She was run down and just felt sick. Her dizzy spells were so powerful that she went to the emergency room repeatedly in 2019 to address “low potassium levels” or “dehydration.” I asked, “Did your family notice?” She responded, “They were in Minnesota, so they had no clue. If they ever did discover she was in urgent care or the emergency department it was just ‘dehydration,’ or a ‘migraine.’ The only one who knew was my partner (because he drank, too),” she replied. “He admits now, that he was lying to himself, but he didn’t know the full truth. A lot of the times I ended up in the ED (emergency department) and told the medical staff how much I was struggling, and he would be frustrated because I had never voiced those complaints to him.”
Meanwhile, I thought the doctors MUST have noticed something was going on with her. I asked, “I mean, didn’t they run labs on you? You had to have liver disease already, and they didn’t check your liver enzymes? They never diagnosed you with ALD?” I was shocked at the fact that no one had pointed out the simple fact to Jacqueline that alcohol was killing her. Jacqueline, I could almost envision her shaking her head, stated, “No, just nausea, dehydration, and tell me to follow up with my doctor. So I’d quit for a few weeks to seem better, but then I would start to drink again. I avoided doing blood work. I was still functioning, so I didn’t think I needed to stop. I acted like I was fine. My bills were paid, no DUI, no trouble with the law, no relationship problems at the time, my relationship with my family was fine, my relationships with friends were good, too.” “So you never thought there was something wrong?” I asked. She replied, “Well, I always knew something was wrong with me, I knew it the whole time.” I understood exactly what she meant.
Finally, Jacqueline had her life-changing hospital visit. First, she had had an emergency room visit, and though she still felt sick after getting fluids, they released her to go home. She and her partner stopped to get groceries when suddenly everything started going black for Jacqueline. “I saw a tunnel closing in around me, I was going to faint. He grabbed me and took me right back to the hospital.”
At the hospital, things took a turn for the worse.
“I became yellow, my MELD score was 29, my bilirubin level was 30 (normal is under 1.2). I looked like I was eight months pregnant from ascites. I was dying. I had to stay in for 46 days.” For reference, a MELD (Model for End Stage Liver Disease) score is a number that qualifies a person for a liver transplant, so the higher the number, the worse shape the person’s liver is in. The highest MELD number is 40, so Jacqueline’s liver was in bad shape. Jacqueline needed to get on the liver transplant list, but she would not qualify without abstinence given her alcohol consumption history.
So what did that look like? Jacqueline had to take a PETH test every two weeks for six months to prove she could stay away from alcohol. Unlike a breathalyzer that only checks for a present blood-alcohol level, a PETH test can detect any alcohol consumption from up to two weeks before the exam. Jacqueline was able to stay sober and get on the list, and once she got on the list, she just had to take the PETH test once a month.
But Jacqueline’s NOT on the transplant list now, right? She’s not.
During our conversation, Jacqueline informed me that her numbers, though not ideal, have stabilized. Her bilirubin levels dropped from 30 to a 4, and her MELD has consistently been a 12, down from 29. Today, Jacqueline is healthy enough not to require a liver transplant. She’s back to looking normal; she happily said, “I’m not yellow anymore!”
“So you’re safe to live a full adult life now, right?” I asked. Jacqueline is only 33 years old, just three years younger than me. Jacqueline paused, “Well, because I’m so young, the chances of me still needing a transplant when I’m older is doubled because I’m so young. So I’m really not off the hook yet.”
Though she has stabilized, Jacqueline does have mild cirrhosis of the liver. The liver can sustain damage up until the point of cirrhosis. At that point, the scar tissue doesn’t go away, it’s irreversible. That means Jacqueline has to do a lot of work to protect her liver from any further damage. Work that she will have to do until the day she draws her last breath.
This new life with permanent alcoholic liver disease is not an easy one for Jacqueline. For the rest of her life, Jacqueline has to be on a low sodium diet, consuming fewer than 2000 mg a day. Her liver doesn’t filter her blood properly, so fluids that a healthier person may be able to pass through urine will accumulate in her body. These fluids could press on her abdomen and potentially fill her lungs with fluid, so Jacqueline has to monitor her fluid intake and take diuretics.
She has a stomach ulcer and varices on her esophagus. According to Mayo Clinic, “Esophageal varices are abnormal, enlarged veins in the tube that connects the throat and stomach (esophagus). This condition occurs most often in people with serious liver diseases.
The vessels can leak blood or even rupture, causing life-threatening bleeding.”
I had to ask, “ And most importantly, you can’t drink. How do you stay away from alcohol?” Jacqueline explained that she uses cannabis for physical and emotional ailments. She takes microdoses of cannabis in candy form in the morning. It helps to keep her anxiety down and bring her appetite up. She has tried psych meds but didn’t respond well to them. “I don’t smoke the actual cannabis flowers, just the oil concentrate or eat the candies. It helps me get through. My biggest thing to not drink is focusing on how much it would hurt my partner, family, and team of doctors. They worked so hard to help get me here. It’d be a kick in the face for me just to go back out and drink. I had a relapse a year ago, and it landed me in the hospital. It was stupid, I thought I would have one, but course it wasn’t just one. It almost killed me.”
“Do you participate in any support groups?” Jacqueline’s support is her partner, her therapist, and her garden. She explained her coping by saying, “I believe in Mother Nature. Gardening really helps me. My plants really help me. For me, drinking wasn’t so much about the physical addiction, and it was always emotional. I coped every day. It was for my anxiety, for social anxiety. Today, my garden helps me.”
“Every day is excruciatingly grueling, especially those days when nothing goes right and you just want to shut out the world. That is why I continue to surround myself with plants and my garden. They remind me that they work so hard to become their most wonderful selves. Most people only appreciate them when they bloom, but I love them from the second I plant them until I mourn them dying and use them as compost to grow the next generation.”
(Just for some added detail, medical problems Jacqueline was treated for in during her 46 day stay because of her alcohol consumption was severe sepsis, acute respiratory failure with hypoxia, ascites, alcoholic hepatitis, liver failure, multiple hernias due to the ascites, IBS, severe diarrhea, C Diff Infection, anemia, jaundice, potassium deficiency, vitamin D deficiency. Jacqueline had a paracentesis to remove fluid from the abdominal cavity and had to have a PICC line placed to receive medications and have labs drawn as all of her IV’s started to blow out and the lab couldn’t get a proper stick.)
I’ve been doing the “right” things, engaging in support groups, therapy, exercise, eating healthier, using medication, and yet I’ve still been waking up this week with the sensation of a weight on my diaphragm. I spoke to my therapist about it, crying as I pleaded for an answer, for some guidance.
“What’s still wrong with me? Shouldn’t I be feeling better by now?”
He said, “Well, Jessica, you’re someone who has always lived in a state of chaos. Even when you were incredibly successful in your career and looked good to others, something was always happening in secret that was bringing you down. Now that you’ve been sober for almost seven months and things are calm, you’re feeling everything you never felt before because you were numb. You’re doubting things. Maybe you feel you don’t deserve the good in your life, so you’re waiting for it to disappear. Trauma has been the norm for your mind, and now that it is peaceful, your brain is going to look for other ways to stir the pot.”
My therapist was precisely right. Everything IS going well in my life. I’m living in a safe space with my family, I have been able to stay sober, I have healthy relationships with people who love and support me, I have solid employment, I’m healthy, and I have no drama in my life. I have everything to be grateful for, and my mind still finds things to worry about. My irrational thoughts become real to me. They feel valid. They make me feel a sick, sinking feeling at the bottom of my rib cage that I used to try to escape.
A few days ago, someone who took the time to travel for hundreds of miles to see me accidentally said something that was triggering. I didn’t need to, but I brought so much pain onto myself with my reaction because I jumped to interpreting it as a personal attack on me; I assumed that this person had an agenda when they had none. My brain literally created a whole scenario in my head where I was suddenly a victim again, except today, I’m NOT a victim. I don’t have to fear this relationship; this connection is not my past.
I hyper-focused on this trigger and blinded myself to the bigger picture. I didn’t stop to consider facts, to look at reality. I didn’t try to clear any assumptions I was making by asking questions. I took the whole statement personally. The truth was that there was no ill intention, only a word in a conversation.
Had I stopped to consider the facts, I would have stressed myself a lot less.
The fears that rise up don’t limit themselves just to relationships. For instance, a recent thing is when my mind takes stock of my appearance and tells me what I don’t have, it tells me what others have better than me.
I looked in the mirror today, and it hit me that I have become ungrateful for the temple I have. I lost sight of facts about my body. This is the same body that has sustained deadly alcohol levels, car wrecks, and assaults. These are the same bones that have never broken, the legs that carry me, and work hard despite multiple surgeries. My face still radiates my father’s smile. I could have completely destroyed it in numerous accidents and falls that I don’t remember, but instead, it carries only fading scars. In seven months of sobriety, this is the same body with a healed liver that no longer has alcoholic liver disease. My body is an amazing one. These are the actual facts.
This body carries the resilient spirit I have, and yet I still turn around and can be ungrateful for it. I can still falsely trick myself into thinking that others don’t appreciate me either. I can continue to believe one irrational thought after another until everything spirals down to eventually me drinking.
But. I. Can’t. Drink.
So what AM I doing about this to not stay stuck in these recent fears that are coming at me full force?
I know healing isn’t a “me” project, so I spoke to my therapist and to my mentor. My therapist suggested that every time I write about my painful thoughts that may be irrational, I need to write down the facts. For example, if I made a mistake at work and believe that I’m going to get fired, sure I can write that, “I have fear that I’ll get fired,” but I ALSO need to acknowledge, “I regularly do well, so I won’t actually get fired.” Is it an extra step in journaling? Yes, is it worth it to pause and “zoom-out” to see the facts? Also, yes.
I asked my mentor (sober 14 years) about her experience, and she let me know that even at HER length of sobriety, she still gets fears and has to work daily to not succumb to the negative voices in her head. Understanding that reminds me why I need to speak with her more often and share the fears that come up in my head. She’s been where I am at, makes me feel less isolated, and if she’s been sober for 14 years, I can get long-term sobriety, too. If I can get it, anyone reading this can get it, too.
So I don’t feel “good” right now, but I know that there are solutions to my mental health concerns. I know that these painful feelings I have are temporary. I don’t have to go through these feelings alone, and I can do things to process them. I’m not going to let my mental health get the best of me and get me to drink today, but I’m learning this really is a daily fight. Daily.
So I veered away from sharing another person’s story for this entry simply because I feel that it’s essential to highlight the hard times. I believe that when we share stories, we connect, and as I’ve heard many say before, connection is the opposite of addiction.
Alissa is a mother, a professional, a practicing attorney, and a wife. Alissa is also a recovering alcoholic who was in and out of facilities throughout New Jersey. Alissa could tell you anything about any facility in Jersey, “I could’ve written a ton of Yelp reviews,” she laughed.
Alissa, the oldest of four children, moved to New Jersey when she was six. She was raised in a middle-income home by parents who made sure to keep up appearances. Alissa attended a Catholic grade school, a Catholic High School, had good grades, volunteered, church, sports, and even got a college scholarship. Law school. Like many, Alissa’s successful outward appearance did not reflect how Alissa spent her life feeling unaccepted, stifled, and controlled by her parents.
“My parents had an innate need to control me and everything that was going on. Especially through money. In college, I saw that the less they provided for me financially, the more control I had over my life.” For Alissa, attending school was a typical experience. Parties from Thursday through Sunday, then recovering during the week to get work done. Then, come Thursday, it was time to fade to black again. After graduating, Alissa’s peers were able to stop, and that’s where Alissa’s relationship with drinking began to spiral.
Rather than moving back in with her parents, she got an apartment. Although it wasn’t easy, she worked three jobs to make ends meet. “I knew that if I could be financially independent, I wouldn’t have to listen to what they say. So even to attend law school, I took out loans, and I didn’t accept their help.”
I’ve come to learn that the more I speak with women with addictions, no matter how different our lives can be, the more our stories remain the same. I had to stop and ask, “Did you ever have anything traumatic happen while in school?” Unfortunately, the answer was yes.
Alissa went on to describe a common nightmare that sadly comes true for many women. “Yea, so I once went out with my professor and some classmates to see a show. Afterward, I went back with one of the guys in my class to have a drink and decide what we would do for the rest of the night. We were having drinks…and he put something in mine. He sexually assaulted me…I woke up at his house the next morning. Rule follower that I am, I reported the incident. I thought that I would get justice and went through this entire legal process, even had a jury trial over it. And he was found not guilty. I had to wait three years for the jury trial to happen just for him to walk free.” The lack of justice, the isolation, and the lack of support all left Alissa diving, turning more to alcohol to provide comfort.
“So, how did your drinking change once you were practicing law full time?” I asked. “Oh, that was an every night situation, but EVERYBODY did it. Everybody drank, and that’s just how it was. If I had a jury trial, that was the only time I tried to take a break. But we all showed up to district court hungover. If you saw a lawyer with a blue Gatorade, you knew someone was having a rough morning.” “So, did you know you had a problem yet?” I asked her. “I mean, sure, there were consequences I was experiencing with my friends. But if something embarrassing happened one weekend, by the next one, someone else had already done something worse that took the attention away from me,” she responded.
What about getting married? Alissa vaguely remembered her boyfriend proposing to her. In describing her wedding, Alissa smirked as she shared, “Oh, I barely remember my wedding; it was nice, it was pretty, but I was so wasted,” she retorted. “I mean, in hindsight, we got married, but we had nothing in common.” Completely relatable. When I married my ex, I tried hard to drink just enough to get drunk but not blackout. I really wanted to remember my wedding. I remember some of it.
It didn’t take long for Alissa to find what she didn’t see in her husband with someone else. The summer following her wedding, Alissa’s boss sent her along with her colleagues to a week-long conference for attorneys. She recalled the team working diligently throughout the days and drinking copious amounts of liquor every night, the daily venture to the store. The sharpest memory in her mind from that week, however, was Peter.
Peter was another lawyer on staff, and though she never thought twice about him at work, they connected romantically on this trip. Their affair was quiet, exciting, and a secret to start, but it grew into more than just an affair; they fell in love. Yes, she was married, and yes, he was engaged. Eventually, time and emotions forced them out of the dark, and they decided to each leave their respective partners in pursuit of a life together.
At this point, I was predicting this as the classic affair gone wrong—the type where the woman leaves her husband for another, only to be abandoned by both. Nevertheless, Alissa interrupted my wandering thoughts and exclaimed, “I mean, I never would have done this crazy shit had I been sober! And guess what, Peter is my actual husband now, and we had a child.” She continued, “What is difficult for me is the fact that I do love Peter very much, and I am so happy for my daughter. So when I romanticize alcohol, it’s easy for me to want to credit my relationship with it for giving me the love of my life and my family,” Alissa continued.
Alissa’s train of thought reminded me of someone who recently emphasized that it is okay to have conflicting emotions. Both can exist simultaneously. In Alissa’s case, yes, alcohol did nearly ruin her life, AND alcohol also gave her the things in her life that she loves. Both are her realities.
“And don’t get me wrong, getting with Peter was so hard, especially on my career. We worked together, and though he never experienced consequences, the other women at work hated me. I mean, I represented a woman’s worst nightmare…Imagine being engaged. Your fiance comes home and is like, ‘I’m leaving you. There is someone else, so we’re not getting married.’ That’s devastating, and not to mention women are already terrible to each other. I had to find somewhere else to work. My job was becoming a dead end. And by then, I was drinking so much on the weekends that my body wasn’t back to normal til mid-week. I needed a change. I was pacing, shaking, anxious. I was telling people that I was ‘just’ suffering from ‘anxiety.’ Peter drank a lot, too.”
“So Alissa, being an attorney, how were you able to balance your drinking with all your responsibilities, like your paperwork?” Her answer was simple and a common one for many women. Alissa was a performer. She was incredibly talented at getting people out of jail. She had strong relationships with prosecutors, was highly respected, and had what she called “jail cred.” If someone was in police custody, Alissa was THE lawyer to represent them. While everything inside was disintegrating, and Alissa often slapped her paperwork together, she always hit the mark in court.
“I would get my hand slapped about not having someone’s documents done completely, and I’d respond, ‘Well, tell that to Joe, who I just got off of a 35-year sentence, and you let me know if he gives two shits about his paperwork being right.’ That was enough to keep everyone’s mouth shut.” And so she carried on, arranging her drinking around her work.
Eventually, Alissa’s body started to show signs of alcohol abuse. An emergency room doctor noticed during an urgent visit visible damage to her esophagus. In her mind, Alissa knew that it was due to her drinking and was expecting to be chastised by the doctor only to hear, “well, you have a stressful job. Make sure to take care of yourself.” How many doctors notice a patient is drinking too much and avoid confronting them? I wondered.
Though the ER doctor didn’t mention Alissa’s drinking, as soon as she described her visit to the hospital to her parents, her mother cautioned her of her grandfather’s drinking and how it led to esophageal problems. “I felt caught! But still, I told her she was out of line,” Alissa laughed. But, all jokes aside, the emergency room visit was enough to get her to stop drinking, for two months.
Alissa picked up a drink once again, and things quickly spiraled. She hit a low she thought she couldn’t escape from and tried to find a solution in a bottle of Klonopin. Hoping to not wake up, she found herself in a haze in a psychiatric ward to discover she was on a 72-hour hold for her suicide attempt. Alissa smirked as she looked back on that incident, describing how she thought she could “lawyer” her way out of it. She felt confident she would leave until the physician on call informed her that the courts would be involved if she tried to go home. Immediately Alissa knew that meant one of her judge friends would see the case. She paused, “Nevermind, I’m good!” She sulked back to her room and stayed quiet for the remainder of the psychiatric hold. At this time, though her parents pretended to ignore the fact that she had a failed suicide attempt,they insisted that she needed to stop drinking. Peter was also concerned, so Alissa joined Alcoholics Anonymous.
“I was working the steps, and things were going well, getting sober was great. Peter proposed. But then, I started doing Step 9. I went to make amends to my mom, and when I asked her what I could do to make things right, she said to me, ‘Now that you’re sober, what you can do for me is promise me that you won’t have kids.’”
My mouth dropped open, and I muttered, “wait, what?” Alissa responded, “Right, so as I’m sitting there devastated looking at my mother wide-eyed, I’m doing what my sponsor said to do and take notes of all the shit she said. So when I left her house, crushed, I called my sponsor. Her response was, ‘pray about it.’
“What the fuck was I supposed to pray about? ‘This is bullshit,’ I said, ‘this program sucks.’ So I quit AA. I used it as an excuse and went back and forth drinking. Then I got pregnant so I stopped for my pregnancy.” The birth of her daughter brought the family together for a brief time to celebrate this new life.
But by her first Mother’s Day, Alissa relapsed.
Her relationship with AA was on and off for a while. She would go back and attend meetings regularly for a time, baby in tow. Still, having a child and drinking that was not yet under control also gave Alissa’s parents the ammo to exert the power they lost when Alissa gained financial independence. Her fight against her parents’ control and the program’s suggestions for managing that conflict both motivated Alissa to drink and to stop drinking. She drank to escape and didn’t drink to outwardly prove she was acceptable in her parents’ eyes. Alissa did have a short span of sobriety, and as things started to calm down, she was up for a significant promotion at work. But then she drank, along with Peter, complicating her life once again.
During this binge, they drank for about four days. Alissa threatened to leave during a drunken argument, and when Peter took her phone to prevent her from going out, she, in her words, “hurt him badly.” I didn’t ask what that meant. Nonetheless, it was enough for her parents to come and take their daughter away. Alissa was immediately hospitalized for 28 days.
Alissa’s parents’ involvement became overwhelming, and this time because of her daughter, she felt pressured to yield to every request. Everything they asked for, she did in fear of them calling child protective services. She tried everything, but she still couldn’t stay consistently sober. When her parents caught Alissa drinking, they would take her daughter for a few days until she appeared steady. “I mean, I wasn’t really sober, but I didn’t want to lose my daughter. At this time, she was showing some delays with speaking and walking, and my parents proceeded to blame me for her developmental concerns,” Alissa said. “How is she now?” I asked. She responded, “Oh, she runs around and talks a ton now.” So glad to hear that.
Subsequently, Alissa relapsed for the last time. Her and her husband’s arguing escalated to the point that she ran to the neighbors’ house. Alissa claimed that Peter was abusing her, so the police came and arrested Peter. They sent Alissa to a nearby hospital for alcohol intoxication, where she blew almost a .4. After which, the hospital transferred her to a residential facility for 35 days. She barely spoke to her husband then. From jail, Peter also went to a different treatment center. The little communication time she had was for FaceTime with her daughter.
“I mean, I didn’t love rehab, but I was starting to feel better and looked forward to getting out. Then one day, one of the therapists took me to her office. She opens the door, and there is a representative from child protection services there. I couldn’t’ believe it! My parents actually decided to try to take my daughter from me, and on top of that, my court date was the day I left treatment.” At the hearing, Alissa did agree to give her parents temporary custody. However, since then, her parents have fought with her regarding visitations and intentionally planning events to create scheduling conflicts. They purposely organized social activities with her siblings and daughter when Alissa couldn’t attend. As a result, Alissa’s parents alienated her from the family.
Despite this ongoing battle for her daughter and freedom from her parents that Alissa is in, she has stayed sober. She’s back in AA, and she’s accepted working with a sponsor. She doesn’t love the program, but it’s helping to keep her sober.
Alissa’s been sober since November of 2020, and her sobriety since has been anything but easy. “A lot is riding on me staying sober,” Alissa reflected. Peter got sober, too. Today, Alissa works her recovery program and works with a therapist. She exercises and stays busy.
Alissa remarked as we wrapped up, “I feel like I was always trying so hard to get the approval and praise of my family. I got it from everywhere else but them. Now, look where we’re at. Now I realize and understand where my parents’ behaviors came from. It doesn’t make it easy, but it helps to understand.” It’s an uncomfortable truth to accept, but Alissa knows that moving forward, it’s going to take a lot of work, including staying sober.
“I’m doing whatever it takes. I can’t lose my daughter.”
My daughter died on Jan 3 this year at age 50 from alcoholic liver disease. She had been struggling with alcoholism for many years, and finally, she succumbed. She was loved and had lots of encouragement to stop drinking. And she did make it to 90 days a few times, but it did not last.
She was staying with another alcoholic for the past year and caring for her, so she had lots of opportunities to keep drinking. One of her many lies was that her liver was fine.
Two months before she died, I noticed her jaundice. We went right to the hospital, where she had gone many times for help drying out, and she stayed for 3 days (all of this during COVID). Those who cared for her gave her good advice and hope, but she got worse and worse in the next 2 months with a swollen abdomen and legs and feet. She never lost her yellow coloring.
She went back to the hospital a few times but was not admitted. She came to stay with me a few times but could not get up the stairs, and lived on my couch. It was horrible to watch.
The last time she came was 4 days before Christmas since the hospital would not admit her. She was not eating, and I tried my best to take care of her. Her son, age 19, came to my house on Christmas Day, so she did have some time with him. The other son, age 21, did not come. They had not seen her for months, so he was shocked and scared. She told him, “I’m not going to die,” but the day after, I called an ambulance since she was very, very sick. The EMT hugged her dad and me and said we might want to consider hospice, which I had thought about.
She gradually declined over the next 7 days, was on a feeding tube and developed pneumonia. The hospital took good care of her and even let us have 2 people visit as she got worse, and they allowed the closest family to be with her the night she died. It was horrible and not at all like the movies.
She was angry and distant for the last few days, so we never had a “good” goodbye. One of the doctors said they had seen a big increase in the number of alcohol-related diseases in the past 6 months.
Despite all the hard, hard, worrying times as her mother and her go-to person, we had many wonderful fun times. She always tried to make it through our holidays and get-togethers somewhat sober. I will miss her terribly, forever.
We had a small ceremony. Everyone who sent cards and commented talked of her very wonderful, sparkly, and beautiful being. She was much loved.
Thank you for letting me tell this story. I needed to write, just like you did.
Sadly,
Susan
When I asked Susan for permission to share her and her daughter’s story, she also asked me to include her obituary. Susan wants to share with the world that yes, Carolyn was very sick, and more importantly, that she was incredibly loved. Please read below:
Carolyn Marie Wanner (July 14, 1970–January 3,2021)
A bright sparkly personality left us grieving when, despite her best efforts, Carolyn Marie Wanner, 50, lost her battle with alcoholism on January 3, 2021 at the Greeley Hospital. Her close family was present to say good bye and must now learn to live without her happy presence.
Carolyn was born in Eugene, Oregon, on July 14, 1970 and moved to Greeley when she was just 6 weeks old. Even as a little girl, she loved people and said hello to anyone who would catch her eye. She could also be counted on to defend her little friends from bullying or harm, a friend you could trust.
A capable student, she became an excellent writer and loved reading and all things having to do with performance and theater. After attending Cameron School, Maplewood Middle School and Heath Junior High, she graduated from Greeley Central in 1988, where she continued to participate in activities, especially theatre, choir, forensics with her group of friends who felt right at home at her house, doing their homework and just hanging around.
Photo by family
She never hesitated to help anyone, even if it meant giving away her last cigarette or $5 when she saw someone in need. Those who knew her were grateful to have had her friendship and those she briefly encountered were always graced with her welcoming smile.
She attended The University of Northern Colorado for one semester, taking a class from her dad and then went off to UC Boulder to earn a degree and had way too much fun socializing, gathering more friends into her life. When she earned her BA in English and Theatre, she was so proud.
In her own words, she said “The energy and allure of the hospitality industry and the people it attracts suit my personality perfectly. I love it!” and that is where she spent her career, working at a number of venues in various capacities, including the first Rock Bottom in Denver. She gave exceptional service at all times and earned a lot of tips with her huge smile and ability to put customers at ease, chatting to everyone, just like when she was a little girl. But, with Carolyn, it wasn’t just about the tips. She was a performer at heart. Her dreams of being an actress were played out doing improv with her customers.
On August 8, 1998, she married Dante Dunlap in Denver and they had two exceptional sons, Max, age 21 and Ethan, age 19, of Denver. She loved being a mom and was often called the “cool mom” by Max and Ethan’s friends. Her sons meant everything to her. Following her divorce, she had a variety of relationships, but never remarried.
In addition to Ethan and Max, she is survived by her saddened mother, Susan Malmstadt, and father, James Wanner, his wife Rene Oya, her loving brother, Christopher Wanner, sister-in-law Sonya PauKune, nephews Blake and Sabin Wanner along with her aunts, Patricia Malmstadt and Carol Haluska, an uncle Dick Wanner, cousins Tere and Steve Schultz, Andy May, Laurie Malone, Carissa Russell, Leslie Andrews, Jennifer and Kristin Wanner as well as extended family and a slew of friends across the state and the country.
The family would like to thank the medical staff at the Greeley Hospital 3rd Floor Acute Care Unit for the exceptional care they provided Carolyn and the family.
Contributions in Carolyn’s memory can be made by check to Greeley Central High School GCHS Thespian Troop 657, 1515 14th Avenue, Greeley, CO 80631 Attention: Brian Humphrey or to the Colorado Restaurant Association Angel Relief Fund for restaurant workers affected by COVID.
