I have an illness that tells me I do not have an illness. I am an alcoholic. It is one of three mental illnesses that I have – along with depression and bipolar. I have not touched alcohol – not so much as mouthwash or cold medicine – in 11 years. I still go to meetings several times a week and volunteer to work with other recovering alcoholics. But sometimes I forget how bad it was. That is a very, very dangerous place to be if you are an alcoholic, especially an alcoholic with depression and bipolar.

I was a blackout drinker. At some point when I was drinking my memory would stop recording what I was doing. I did not have blackouts every time I drank. I would blackout without warning. Could be after one drink or after two bottles of chardonnay or not at all. I did not know I was in a blackout when I was in a blackout. You probably would not have known either. I could still talk, walk, dance on the bar, drive a car or have sex. You would see a drunk woman making a fool of herself. I would have no memory of any of it.

No matter how hard I tried to remember there was no memory. I would remember walking into a bar or restaurant, or opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen and then nothing until I woke up the next day. I am not capable of describing the fear, embarrassment and shame that follows a blackout, especially when it is paired with an epic hangover. Where is my car? Did I or didn’t I sleep with him? How did I get that bruise? What did I say to her to make her look at me like that? Nothing will stoke your depression like an unknown amount of alcohol coupled with unknown behavior.

It had been a long time since I had thought about my blackouts – until last night. I was blissfully sitting on the couch with my dog – “Dog” – watching an episode of Law & Order. A young, handsome, well-to-do professional woke up with a dead woman in his bed and he had no idea how she got there or who she was. He maintained his innocence so convincingly that the detectives were baffled.

Of course the detectives did their job and eventually it was proven that the young man fatally bludgeoned the woman with a hammer during an alcoholic blackout. In the final scene the young man finally realized that he had brutally killed a woman – even though he had no memory of the attack. The look on that man’s face when he realized what he had done scared the hell out of me – and I needed the hell scared out of me because I have an illness that tells me I do not have an illness.

Recovered alcoholics sometimes say that God is doing for them what they could not do themselves. I believe that. It was no coincidence that I landed on that particular episode of Law & Order while surfing through dozens of channels last night. I needed a big whack upside the head to remind me that keeping all of my mental illnesses under control is a work in progress. I can never let down my guard, rest on my laurels and think that I am immune from relapse, another depression or another wild ride on the manic roller coaster.

I don’t need to dwell on my mental illnesses but I do need to pay attention when God tosses one of these synchronicities my way. Then I thank God for the memories I have of the last 11 years.

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From Psych Central's website:
PsychCentral (October 16, 2009)

    Last reviewed: 15 Oct 2009