Everyone in the room sat in their chosen seats. I sat at the end of the back row. There were about 30 people in the room including myself. As everyone settled, the chairperson for that night stood and led the recitation of the prayer. I felt unsure and apprehensive but I knew I had to do this.
‘My name is Joe,’ the chairperson started talking while sitting at the front with the other two visitor-speakers. ‘As you can see with my hair, I am getting on, I will be 77 years old tomorrow and I’ve been doing this for over 45 years.’ Everyone cheered and clapped their hands, with some uttering Happy Birthday! ‘With me here are David and Carlos who will share their stories later on. Let us all introduce ourselves and if you want to share something about why you are here tonight, you are encouraged to do so…Let’s start with you here at the front,’ he continued.
‘My name is Ian, I loved my ‘wee dram’ with the cost of my family. I am here because I want to stop it and I want my family back.’ The man at the front row said. He was followed by John, Barry, Allan, Nancy, Donna and many more. Each one giving a brief indication of their longing to change.
Then the lady sitting at the other end of my row introduced herself as Elna.
‘Well, I’ve been sober for five years now,’ she said. ‘But temptation is a constant daily battle for a bottle hence I still come here regularly. I feel the strength of this group keeps me going,’ she continued and the room was filled with applause.
A few more introduced themselves. Then, it was my turn.
‘I am Lyn, uh…well…how can I say this,’ I smiled to hide my nervousness, then continued. ‘I am not an alcoholic…’ I stammered. I could sense some heads turned around to glance at me. The chairperson nodded his head for encouragement, and I carried on.
‘I do like an occasional glass of Lambrusco though, and sometimes when I can afford, I love a glass of Maduri with lemonade!’ I could see some heads at the front rows nodding, and heard some people mutter something and giggle. ‘But I am here to understand this illness more in order to help my husband. Thank you for this chance to be here.’ I felt a little embarrassed. But everyone clapped and nodded with their approval. I then felt a bit better and relaxed.
The two visitor-speakers David and Carlos who were sitting at the front took turns in sharing their stories. I listened with much interest. Carlos got into a gradual depression which he never realised to begin with. It started when he split with his partner of ten years when he was in his mid-thirties. He tried to suppress his feelings with a bottle of alcohol. It got worse by the day until he couldn’t go to work and eventually sacked by his employers. He lost his house, his car and everything, and he ended up in the streets of Glasgow.
One day, while sitting and begging in his spot at the edge of the Buchanan Galleries building in Glasgow, a man approached him and asked if he could be part of their research and study of homelessness. He was provided free accommodation and food. All he did was to share his experiences in the streets and how reliant he was on alcohol. While doing the study, he started to get some help for his alcohol addiction. It was the start of rebuilding his life again. From then on, he was sober until now at the age of fifty-five.
I sat there engrossed with Carlos’ story. And I thought to myself, there was hope.
I caught my husband inebriated several times, and each time he would deny. He eventually lost his job because he was found drinking alcohol at work. It seemed he was a hopeless case at one point and I had to make a decision.
My decision was either to walk away or stay put and help him get better if he wanted to get better.
So, one time when he was sober, I asked him first of all what he wanted to do in his life: did he want to get better or was he happy to carry on the way he was? He said he wanted to get better and needed help. That was the point that I felt there was hope. It was the first time he mentioned that he needed help. With that, I had to find a way for him to get some help, starting from our local GP. He was referred to counseling and eventually we decided for him to get treatments.
I was struggling to cope with the situation. We could lose our house and everything. With just me working, it was not enough to pay all our bills. But when I thought of Carlos’ story, I felt there was hope for things to get better before it was too late.
While my husband was getting his treatments, I also went for counseling. This was a turning point for me too. I stopped blaming myself for the actions of my husband and I started to look after myself more. I remember at that point that I truly believed there was hope that things would get better.
My husband is now sober for a good-few years. He’s back to his normal self and he has his own company and loves his work.
I honestly believe that my hope coupled with constant prayers, helped my husband and myself get through that biggest challenge in our lives. Above all, it saved our marriage.
I thought there was hope.
I felt there was hope.
I believed there was hope.
Now, I know there is always hope.