Vodka has already killed several of my friends and acquaintances. Their career was brilliant, their lives were successful, and nothing in it foreshadowed such a terrible end. Before my eyes, a graduate student of the Faculty of Philosophy of Moscow State University, an erudite and clever Slavik, passed away; I remember how the soloist of the Alexander Choir died - the brilliant tenor Vasya, who once sang his famous “Kalinka” all over the world; how, with an interval of half a year, one after another, my neighbors, a couple of honored retired doctors, quietly died... All these people were believers, talented and hardworking, all of them were ruined by alcohol, and the end of their lives was no different from the bitter fate of a drunken tractor driver or loader
I myself danced over this abyss for many years on the narrow ledge of “moderate drinking,” and I was incredibly lucky - I managed to notice that I was only one step away from disaster. I didn’t take this step, but I remember well how scary it was: to understand that you no longer have control over yourself, that the vodka has become stronger and you are no longer able to say “no” to it.
When did it all start? Hard to say. Perhaps the beginning was a thimble of port wine, which our village relatives poured out to me, a first-grader, at the family table, with the words: “A man is growing, let him get used to it.” Or maybe two bottles of fortified wine, which my friend and I, a fellow twelve-year-old idiot, drank in the forest in the strictest secrecy without any snacks on the May Day holidays. We were poisoned, of course, with terrible force, but still, the first workshop on suppressing the gag reflex when drinking took place for me right then.
I actively continued these exercises several years later, when, after the eighth grade, I went to work in the repair shops of the Department of Mechanized Works No. 14, which serviced the construction of the Urengoy-Pomary-Uzhgorod gas pipeline. Bulldozers, pipe layers and excavators that had been “killed” on the highway were taken to the workshops for repair, and I was accepted there as an apprentice mechanic for repairing construction equipment. I understood quite quickly what a “fitter” was: we had drivers driving bulldozers who were deprived of their licenses for drunkenness, so that’s what they said about drunkards in the North: they drink like a bulldozer driver. But drunken bulldozer drivers were transferred to repair mechanics. It was to them that I was assigned as a student. I was fifteen years old then.
The locksmiths turned out to be quiet, good-natured drunks who immediately found me a worthy place in their friendly team. The fact is that, according to the then Labor Code, no sanctions for violation of labor discipline were applied to minors, so it was almost impossible to punish or fire me from work. My mentors took advantage of this legal incident: I became a “messenger”. They started selling alcohol at eleven in the morning. By this coveted hour, I received money and a bag from my colleagues and went through a hole in the fence to the nearest store, not at all afraid of running into the authorities.
I bought a couple of bottles of vodka, processed cheese or a can of canned food and returned to my workplace through the same hole.
The locksmith poured me a glass of wine, like an adult, and only scolded me for leaning too heavily on the snack, which, according to their concepts, should have been saved.
...Six months later, I successfully passed the exam at the qualification commission and also became a mechanic for repairing construction equipment of the second category, equaling my teachers in this high rank. I acquired the skill of drinking vodka without wincing during that period of my life, although I had not yet developed a craving for alcohol. It was just that everyone around was drinking, and I was drinking along with everyone else - for company without any interest or pleasure.
Despite my young age, I understood that all this was almost the rock bottom and had no intention of becoming a mechanic for life.
At the age of seventeen I entered the orchestral department of the regional music school, and I still thank God for this turn in my destiny. There I was surrounded by completely different people, living with completely different meanings, problems and joys. I, too, was slowly getting used to this new life, and the friends I met then remain the closest people to me to this day, although twenty-five years have passed since then. Everything there was wonderful, I liked everything, and only one circumstance bridged the gap to my metalworking past: despite all their sophistication and sophistication, the musicians drank no weaker than bulldozer drivers. About once a week, the men's floor of the dorm handed over empty wine glass. This whole thing was called Operation “Bayan”, since the empty bottles were carried out through the watch in a case from a button accordion, and you just had to try so that the “bayan” did not accidentally jingle when it was carried past the commandant and the teacher. Those who were too lazy to return the accordion stored the empty containers behind the front wall of the pianos that we had in every room. The unfortunate instrument then began to sound with a noticeable crystalline tone.
...At the end of my first year I was drafted into the army and ended up in a construction battalion. After music school it was like a contrast shower. Three quarters of our company's personnel were composed of petty criminals who had already served their first term in the army. I don’t want to remember in detail how they drank there. Let me just say that we served at the very height of Gorbachev’s “Prohibition Law,” thanks to which, instead of vodka and port wine, I learned to drink “Russian Forest” cologne, “Lana 1” antistatic agent, “Cucumber” lotion and other alcohol-containing liquids in various combinations worthy pen by Venichka Erofeev. Banal moonshine was an unattainable delicacy in those years, and our company craftsmen managed to extract alcohol even from shoe polish...
And yet, even then I didn’t think I was drunk. Although, describing all this now, I don’t know whether to laugh at these memories or cry. I couldn’t drink myself to death... What else did you have to do to yourself in order to consider yourself drunk, how else could you disfigure yourself? If only I could turn back time, if only I could erase all this rubbish from my youth, like a dirty word from a wall...
But then I really could still live without alcohol, and I drank rather out of inertia. The fool got a strong body.
Having been demobilized, I returned to the music school, continued my studies, and with it, carousing, partying and copious libations. The end of my student life coincided with the collapse of the USSR. By that time I had already married, we were expecting a child. It was necessary to provide for the family, but doing this with musician’s earnings turned out to be impossible at that time. And I went to work at a construction site, as a mason apprentice, or, more simply, as a helper. Again I became a proletarian, again I was surrounded by sneaky workers, but now I categorically refused to drink with them “for respect” and during the entire time I worked in this office I did not drink a drop of alcohol at work. The reason was simple: I became a believer and came to the Church.
Here I would say that, having believed, I stopped drinking forever, but - alas... This did not happen. The fact is that in Orthodoxy there is no categorical prohibition on drinking alcohol. Although it would seem that it is quite clearly stated in the New Testament... don't get drunk on wine(Eph 5
:18), and also that drunkards...will not inherit the kingdom of God(1 Cor. 6
:10). But here’s the catch: what kind of drinking person admits to being a drunkard? Where is the criterion for such an assessment? With fornication, for example, it’s clear: he slept with a woman outside of marriage - that’s it! You are already a fornicator. It’s the same with theft, and with murder... There is certainty there. How can we determine the line beyond which a moderate drinker turns into a drunkard who will not inherit salvation? Everyone believes that they are in complete control of themselves and drink in moderation.
But everyone sets this measure for themselves. For example, just recently I could drink more than a liter of vodka with a good snack without getting tongue-tied, and I stood firmly on my feet. Well, is this really called “getting drunk”, good gentlemen? No, the one who is lying under the fence gets drunk, drinks away his pay and beats his wife. But for me, everything is harmonious: my family is well-fed, clothed and shod, I bring money into the house regularly, I drink exclusively in my leisure time, but at work - no, no! What kind of “drunkard” am I to you?
I reasoned approximately like this for ten years in a row, reassuring myself with the famous thesis: “... joy in Rus' is drink, we cannot live without it,” as well as thoughts that “... even the monks accept it” and that “... wine cheers the heart person."
There was a lot of things during this time, starting from my first Lent, when my friends and I, through simple logical conclusions, came to the conclusion that vodka is a lean product, since it contains no eggs, no meat, no milk. I remember how zealously we once “fasted,” snacking on the forty-degree liquid with dry black bread, and how after that I set out to read the evening rule. The lines in the prayer book overlapped one another, I unsuccessfully tried to maintain a vertical position in front of the icon and thought with sadness that, apparently, not everything was in order with my spiritual life.
Over these ten years, “one hundred grams after work, to relieve muscle tone” gradually became part of my daily routine; cheerful feasts at meetings with old friends, which we could no longer imagine without vodka; breaking the fast after fasting with obligatory “ingestion” and much more...
For years I consoled myself with the fact that so many people live this way, that this is not drunkenness, but the same ill-fated “moderate use.” With such a thought, as with an unreliable balancer, I wandered along the very edge of the abyss and did not notice it until I was seriously reeling, until I saw that I was only one step away from real binge alcoholism and I had already raised my leg over cliff.
For several years I worked in the Moscow region, where I built fireplaces for customers according to individual projects. The work paid very well; in a few days I earned so much that it was enough for our family for several months. True, there weren’t very many orders and only during the season, so in the winter we lived on the money we earned in the summer, but we still got enough to keep us from going into poverty.
I was very tired on these orders, and not just physically. Here I had neither superiors nor subordinates; I had to do absolutely everything myself. I placed the advertisement myself, negotiated with the customer and developed the project, drew up the estimate myself, was involved in the purchase and delivery of materials to the site, and finally, I built the fireplace. But the main concern began later, when it was necessary to receive money from the client for the work performed. And, although they cheated me only a couple of times, theoretically such an opportunity was present on every order. I had to be constantly on guard, so even when everything ended well and I received the agreed amount, the nervous tension still did not let me go.
From Moscow to our village it’s a six-hour bus ride. I bought myself a couple of cans of some low-alcohol cocktail for the trip - “gin and tonic” or “screwdriver”, drank them, and only after that I felt that everything was really over, that the money was in my pocket and I was finally going home.
One day I came across some really disgusting “Screwdriver”, and I thought - why bother with nonsense? It's just low-quality alcohol diluted with stinking orange essence. If you buy a glass of good vodka and orange juice, you will get the same thing, only without the side effects. And I began to relieve tension after ordering vodka. Very soon, instead of a check, I was already buying a normal half-liter for the trip, which I took completely on my chest in six hours. I repeat - I wasn’t drunk at all then, and at home my wife could only tell by the smell that I had been drinking on the road. For me there was even such a stupid chic in it like: “What an eagle I am! I planted a whole bottle, and - not a single eye!”
Then I didn’t yet know that such tricks don’t work with vodka, that it can wait for a very long time, but then it will definitely take its toll. Pretty soon I had to verify this in practice.
Once I came to Moscow for just one day on business unrelated to work. Such a trip was more of a pleasure than a stress; I had no trace of any fatigue or nervous tension that day. But when I boarded my bus for the return flight in the evening, I felt an incomprehensible, but very strong discomfort. Most of all it was like a lack of air in your lungs, when you breathe and just can’t get enough air. My body, against my will, imperiously demanded something, but I could not make out what exactly. And suddenly, with surprise and horror, I realized: vodka! Vodka is needed, not for me, but for my body, which I have so diligently accustomed to it for many years in a row. This was not a conscious desire, and not a mental process at all, but rather a physiological one: my body developed a real conditioned reflex to take the bus from Moscow. Exactly like Academician Pavlov’s dogs on a light bulb.
Oh, how I was spinning when I realized all this... My heart was squeezed by melancholy, some banality was sluggishly tossing around in my head like: “This is how it happens, it turns out. Well, you got there...” But there was no time left to comprehend what had happened, the bus was about to leave and I... quickly ran to the store for a half-liter.
So I became a real alcoholic, who no longer had a choice - “to drink or not to drink?” Quite quickly I discovered that I was by no means the only one with a bus reflex. Well, for example, having a snack on the bus is a problem. You can’t take canned food or salad with you on the road, it’s inconvenient. And I took some cut meat delicacy with vodka, which I usually didn’t buy because of the high cost. But why save money - after all, I’m eating from the order, my pocket is full of money! I’m so used to the fact that delicious food goes with vodka. Therefore, when my wife cooked cutlets or roast at home, I could no longer perceive them as anything other than an appetizer. And again I ran to the store...
And then off we go: to relieve stress - check, I quarreled with my wife - check, I felt sad on long winter evenings - three days in a row - check.
I once calculated that if I drank, say, a liter of vodka once a week, it would be almost half as much as my daily “chekushek” aperitif. My poor liver could no longer cope with such volumes. I started to get drunk. It’s disgusting to describe, and there’s nothing interesting here. I’ll just say that from the most sober person in any drinking company, I turned into an ordinary drunkard, stupidly squinting within forty minutes after the start of the banquet.
It was absolutely clear that this was the last call, that then something would begin to happen to me that I had already seen many times before in the example of others, but I consoled myself with the smug thought that with my ability to drink without getting drunk, I am not in danger of such trouble. And now she didn’t just threaten, she was already grinning triumphantly, looking into my face. And the choice before me was very small: to fall further into this darkness, until it stops, or to still strain the remnants of my will and at least try to get out of it.
It was no longer possible to give up drinking completely. In order to somehow regulate my drinking, I firmly decided: under no circumstances should I drink alone again. From the outside, this determination may seem ridiculous, but I did not see any other way out for myself at that time, and I adhered to this rule as best I could. If you were really desperate and stuck, you bought a bottle and went on a visit. Getting on the bus from Moscow, I looked around the cabin with hope, looking for a familiar face, and if I found a drinking buddy, I ran to the store with relief... But I didn’t drink alone anymore.
So a year passed. I began to drink much less, but the craving for alcohol did not disappear, but the circle of people with whom I could have a glass quickly narrowed. Almost all of my friends, by the age of 35, had reached the same milestone as me. Each of us escaped from our alcoholism as best we could, and it never even occurred to any of us to suggest that the other pass the evening over a bottle. We all already realized that we were sick and tried not to tempt each other.
None of us even thought about hardening or coding, for a very specific and important reason: wired and coded alcoholics cannot receive communion. The fact is that during stitching, a person is injected, at intervals of ten minutes, with several contrast-acting drugs, which successively throw him either hot or cold. And then they very convincingly explain to him that now even a drop of alcohol, having entered his body, will react with this “magic mixture”, turn into a deadly poison and kill him. A wedge is knocked out with a wedge, a reflex is defeated by another reflex, and the fear of death is much stronger than the craving for alcohol. In any case, all the people I know personally shy away in fear even from kefir and kvass, fearing the tiny proportion of alcohol formed there during fermentation.
But the Orthodox Eucharist is celebrated with grape wine. Consequently, for a hardened person the road to Communion is closed. Or rather, he can, of course, approach the Chalice, but only on the condition that his faith in the truth of the Body and Blood of Christ turns out to be stronger than the fear of death. But I have never heard of such cases.
Although one of my friends managed to find a way out of this dilemma. He is stitched up for a year, at the end of this period he goes to church, takes communion and... stitched up for another year, until the next communion. Such is the strange rhythm of the Eucharistic life in man. I am not a supporter of such methods, but in this case I simply don’t know how to feel about it. Because without sewing up, this friend of mine in a few months turns into a real animal, drinking continuously with an interval of five to six days between three-week binges. The worst thing is that he still does not consider himself an alcoholic and is sure that he drinks in moderation, his drinking bouts are just an annoying misunderstanding, and he sews himself up “just in case”...
Time passed, I tried to drink as little and as little as possible, but sometimes, completely unexpectedly for myself, I still went into a tailspin. I don’t know how much longer this trench war of mine with my alcoholism would have lasted if one day the Lord had not worked a miracle.
...Once again I lost my temper when I came to visit friends in Obninsk near Moscow. It was Lent, on the eve of the Feast of the Annunciation. We sat with a friend in his music studio, he showed me material for his new album, I told him about my simple affairs, and the next day we were going to go together to the temple, where another old friend of mine was the rector. I came specifically to them, I didn’t think about drinking at all, because both of them are absolutely non-drinkers. And suddenly... Some semi-familiar guitarist Kolyan, who accidentally wandered into the studio... Some dubious reason - it seemed like his daughter was born, or something... some kind of ridiculous conviction that - “it’s a holy thing, it needs to be washed... »
In short, I got terribly drunk then. The next day we arrived at the temple towards the end of the festive service. Many people there knew me, loved me and were very happy when I appeared. The guys from the choir called me to sing at the prayer service, I sluggishly refused and tried to get closer to the exit. My head was pounding, my vision was dizzy until it was dark, and my soul was so disgusting that I didn’t want to live any longer.
I looked at the icon of the Mother of God, but I could not pray even in my mind. There were no words. I just stood and cried from my own powerlessness, because I could not overcome this abomination in myself, because most of my life had already been lived, and - so stupid...
About three weeks later, I suddenly realized with amazement that I had never had a drink since then. Moreover, I didn’t even notice that I wasn’t drinking for three whole weeks. It was incredible, it simply couldn’t happen, but a fact is a stubborn thing. I no longer wanted to drink anywhere and under any circumstances. Now I could calmly sit at a festive table laden with vodka, and did not feel any desire or desire for alcohol. All my reflexes to alcohol disappeared so instantly that I didn’t even notice how it happened. It was as if the Lord took me and again put me at the same crossroads from which I left many, many years ago along the wrong road. Only now I knew very well where it was leading. Too good…
This fairy tale would end happily here. But I just didn’t turn out to be a good fellow. Little by little, once, twice, three times... No, I drink very carefully now, and I understand perfectly well that every sip of mine is a step along that same damned road. But the only thing I have enough for today is just not to partake, to walk less often. But there was a chance, there was a wonderful opportunity to never touch this poison again, to forget about it forever. Why didn't I use it? I don’t know... Apparently, besides alcoholism, there is something else in me that pushes and pushes me to the edge, breaking even the experimental knowledge that was so dear to me.
When I hear about the miraculous healing of a drunkard who believed, I do not rejoice for him. I'm scared for him. Yes, the Lord can miraculously heal an alcoholic, and I know this first-hand. But only a person can forbid himself to drink after such healing. Because God does not code anyone, does not stitch anyone up, and does not tie anyone’s throat into a knot. He only addresses each of us with the words of the prophet Moses: I have offered you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live.(Deut. 3
:19) And the future fate of such a person does not depend on miraculous healing, but on his determination and firmness in choosing between life and death.
...And I’m still marking time at my crossroads. Either I run a few steps along the road to death and damnation, then I fearfully jump back into life. This is what it means for me today - drinking in moderation. And only God knows how it will end...
The article that I bring to your attention is huge. But I advise you to read it from beginning to end, because everything there is true.
Women especially read this, if you think that you are already drinking too much, then trouble is not far away. But trouble does not come alone, as you well know.
A good article is frank and understandable. Stop drinking before it's too late. You lose a lot in this life with vodka. There is another life, much more colorful and rich in contrast to alcoholic intoxication.
The chemical dependence caused by alcohol is only slightly weaker than heroin. Alcohol is in third place in terms of the addictiveness it causes. Is it possible to overcome addiction and recover from alcoholism? Yes! - our heroine thinks.
We talk with Denise, a recovering alcoholic, as she calls herself. In front of me is a beautiful, mature, confident woman, and it’s hard to believe that she once couldn’t live a day without alcohol.
Denise tells what addiction is and how she managed to start a sober life, which she has been leading for more than 10 years.
What was your history with alcohol? Why did you drink alcohol, what made you drink? Pleasure from taste, emotional release, company...
I have always been a timid, insecure and quiet girl, I considered myself ugly and worthless. My mother did not pay attention to the education of femininity and the ability to communicate with people. For her, the main thing was only good academic performance.
Purely by chance, at the age of 15, having tried alcohol, I suddenly seemed attractive, relaxed, and the boys communicated with me as equals.
The next day I experienced the first hangover of my life. A normal person will say to himself: I will never put this nasty thing in my mouth again, I haven’t had enough to suffer like that! My first thought was this: next time I need to drink something else and not in such quantities that it won’t be bad.
This turned on and activated the previously dormant alcoholic thinking and behavior.
This emotional uplift, the feeling of flight, of my uniqueness, made me try again and again. I didn’t yet know that it was a trap, and it had already slammed shut.
And the taste has always been disgusting to me - even in the most expensive drinks. The purpose of drinking is not taste, but a “blow to the brain.” This is the MOST IMPORTANT thing for an alcoholic - to fly into a parallel reality as quickly as possible. And in this reality there is the illusion of a stormy and active life, the absence of loneliness.
How did you understand that it was an addiction? How quickly did you realize this? Many people deny the fact of addiction, believing that they can quit at any time...
I didn’t understand for a long time that this was an addiction. At the age of 24 I began to vaguely suspect that something was wrong in my life. Although by this time I had already left the institute, entered another, also dropped out, lost two jobs, and started to have a hangover in the morning at 19.
I fully realized that I was addicted after thirty years. And if so, then I’m supposed to drink in life. In general, I didn’t experience much stress. And I began to actively and vigorously defend the right to drink when I want, to do what I consider necessary. Actually, this was already developing moral and ethical degradation.
And denial of illness is a completely normal symptom of alcoholism. And not many people sin by denial, but everyone. This is the mental component of the disease.
- Was there any turning point when you realized that this was already an addiction?
There is such a concept - the feeling of the bottom. This is a personal, deep, emotional experience that makes a person decide to change his life.
Someone got sick after being threatened with death. And someone comes to AA ( Alcoholics Anonymous - Approx. ed.) and says: “I drank my Mercedes, I drive a Lada.” This is his bottom. It's different for everyone. But its essence is the same: I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE!
It happened to me like this. As usual, in the evening, having difficulty waiting for my little son to fall asleep, I went to my room and fished out my nightly five bottles of motherwort from the stash (I already drank surrogates - they took more away), poured some water into the bottle to swallow right away, She brought it to her mouth - and then suddenly, from somewhere above, a chilling horror fell.
My arms and legs began to tremble, and it was as if someone over my shoulder clearly said: “Girlfriend, you can’t live without this anymore!”
To drown out this horror, I went into a tailspin - it happened with short breaks for almost six months.
And now I’m sitting at home after this long binge, I’m physically unwell. And morally it’s even worse. And suddenly, unexpectedly, like a blow from the inside, like a click in the head, the thought came - but I’m no longer there!!!
I looked at photos of me, a little first-grader, with a white bow on the top of my head and a bouquet in my hands. And I realized that this girl was not there. That I killed her with my own hands.
And then it came up that four years ago my friend told me about AA. I went to the phone and called - she picked up after the first ring. I didn’t say anything, I just blurted out - give me the address!!! She didn't even ask which one. I sighed - thank God, write... 40 minutes later I was already in my first group.
Then AA explained to me that this was the bottom. It comes like that - all at once, like a blow. Mom said in the evening that the expression on my face, my eyes became different. Straightaway! I no longer needed to be persuaded or convinced of anything. I already understood everything myself.
FOR REFERENCE
Anyone who is interested in the problem of alcoholism and its solution is completely free to attend an OPEN AA meeting in their city. Group schedules indicate which meetings are open to everyone, and which are closed – only for alcoholics.
AA groups can also be found on the Internet on special forums and websites.
- How long had you been drinking by that time and in what quantities?
In general, the standard dose for a normal, good mood is approximately 250 g of vodka. But the fact is that, unlike healthy people, alcohol affects addicts differently. We can't stop.
To maintain such a good mood, you need to constantly add more and more, and in geometric progression. If the first burst of good and light mood came from 100 g of vodka, and after an hour everything began to decline, then you already need to drink 150 g, because the same 100 g will not return the mood, you need more.
I had already started having pseudo-binges, had constant health problems, and depression.
In total, I drank from 15 to 36 years old. I'm 47 now.
- How did your family feel about addiction, did they support you or were you left alone with the problem?
Mom suffered because of me, worried. And of course, she was very glad that I went to AA. There were many difficulties. After all, people living with an alcoholic themselves become sick - codependent. And their denial is much stronger than that of alcoholics. My mother, to this day, will not admit that there is anything wrong with her.
How did you manage to quit drinking and overcome addiction? Only with the help of AA?
First of all, it is IMPOSSIBLE to overcome addiction. This is equivalent to a person trying to forcefully stop a moving train.
The first and main thing, of course, is AA. It was there that I learned: in order to break this vicious circle, you just need to admit your powerlessness - over alcohol and over life. Then the need to fight with something automatically disappears, and you can calmly start correcting yourself.
Imagine: a man has taken up the stupid habit of trying to get through the wall again and again. He hits his head on it, gets bruises, abrasions, and eventually a concussion. And everything continues to go wrong.
But as soon as he admits his powerlessness in front of this wall, admits that the concrete is stronger than his head and he will never defeat this wall anyway, then the desire to fight against it disappears. He simply walks around her and through the door. The wall is there, it has not gone away, only the person no longer notices it, it no longer exists for him.
So it is here. I can’t drink like other normal people; my body reacts to alcohol differently than others. I give up, I admit that he is stronger than me. And let him be there somewhere by himself, and I can live without him.
It's not my fault that this happened. I turned out to be sick. And there is no point in fighting the disease. We must come to terms with it, accept that it exists, and begin to treat it, that is, work on ourselves.
There is no dependence. This is a congenital, hereditary predisposition. Whether it enters the active phase or not is a lottery. Genetics is a mosaic. As the puzzle goes, so will it work out.
And the struggle in the issue of addiction treatment is obviously a losing option. Fighting always leads to defeat. The one who doesn't start the fight at all wins the fight.
Naturally, I use some other techniques that are useful for me personally. In general, everyone decides for themselves whether to limit themselves only to the program or what else to take.
Tell us a little about AA. How does this organization actually work? Why does the AA program really help?
In a nutshell, AA is a psychotherapeutic self-help program. It works according to the 12 step program. The principle of work is group therapy. At group meetings, literature written by alcoholics themselves is read, chapters of these books are discussed, in accordance with the group’s schedule. People share their experience of going through the steps, consider their everyday situations in relation to the steps. In general, they learn to live soberly. After all, sometimes you have to learn everything from scratch.
Why does the program help and why is it effective? Yes, because it is based on mutual assistance. On the exchange of experiences, on communication between people with the same problem. The one who can help best is the one who has experienced trouble on his own skin and knows it from the inside.
But the most important thing is to work step by step. She teaches you to become different, offers you to fully analyze your problems, perceptions, grievances, anger and other emotions that disturb your peace of mind. That is, take an inventory of yourself, work out your shortcomings.
It's not enough to stop drinking. Without personal changes, nothing good will happen. An alcoholic who does not drink, but does not change his thinking, becomes a disgusting and unbearable person.
And the essence of the program is to change your own coordinate system so that, firstly, there is no place for alcohol there, and secondly, to change yourself.
We have amazing examples. People change EVERYTHING in their lives. They get other professions and change their tastes, habits, and hobbies 180 degrees. They start new families.
I myself got married while sober, at 43 years old. And for the first time for love. Because when drunk, anything is mistaken for love: passion, dependence on a person, neurosis. But this is not love.
Alcoholism is a disease of frozen feelings. And they are also “unfrozen” in AA; a person can again feel like all normal people.
And at first, newcomers in response to the question “What do you feel?” they begin to say what they think. They don't see the difference!!!
- Do you have any practical advice for those who want to quit drinking, but cannot cope with themselves?
AA gives all this advice. I can add from myself.
Recovery is based on ABSOLUTE self-honesty. After all, we lie to no one as much as to ourselves. Therefore, relatives should know everything and try to understand. Another thing is that some are not able to understand.
But if a person is honest with himself, realizes, accepts his problem, works on it, then he is not afraid of any provoking moments.
Now it’s even strange for me to remember that I once drank. Was it really me??? It feels like I just read a book about some strange woman who couldn’t find a simple way out.
I don’t go where people and guests drink. Not because I'm afraid of temptation. I'm just not interested in such companies at all. People don’t see themselves from the outside. But, looking with sober eyes, you see a depressing picture. Even non-alcoholics become like mediocre, overacting actors. And they become sharply stupid after every drink.
I simply feel sorry for the mediocre and stupid waste of time. My family doesn't drink. And I haven’t had the slightest need for doping for almost ten years now. From the very moment when I admitted my powerlessness at the soul level.
I don't forbid myself anything. And in AA no one forbids anything. I can easily go, buy a bottle and drink - but there is NO REASON. I just don't need it anymore.
“I tried alcohol for the first time at school, when I was 15-16 years old - it was wine. And until I was 30, I didn’t have any problems with drinking – I drank like everyone else. I drank and the next day my body somehow compensated for it. And it’s unlikely that anyone will say exactly how his alcoholism began. This probably happens differently for each person. Some people have certain events, others have an accumulation of alcohol in their bodies and a need for it. I, most likely, have accumulated too.
And if earlier I didn’t need time for rehabilitation after drinking, then later I needed it after each regular binge. The next day I could no longer feel normal or go to work. But, most likely, I didn’t pay much attention to it then. Although sometimes, of course, it was scary. Because problems began at work, where I didn’t go for several days, and in the family, naturally, too. All this was already alarming.
I began to struggle with alcoholism somewhere in the early 90s - I was then 33-34 years old. Then for the first time my mother and I flew to Sochi to see a famous psychotherapist - I forgot his last name. My mother, may the Kingdom of Heaven be hers, actively participated in my treatment - all my life. And the psychotherapist was an ordinary one and was engaged in simple coding - he penetrated the human brain. I don’t know what he was doing there, of course. I don't think he himself knew what he was doing there.
Unfortunately, this coding greatly destroyed, as I believe, the body’s natural defenses - it opened some kind of gap. My binges became even greater, more frequent and longer. After coding, I didn’t even last a year. Although my uncle, who flew with me to this psychotherapist, lasted ten years - the period that he set for him.
It cannot be said that alcoholism in my family is hereditary.And there is no need to look for the reason in someone - I made this conclusion for myself. You only need to look for the reason in yourself. Over the years, many priests gave different advice: they said that I need to go to the elders, they will help, because I am suffering due to some kind of generational curse. I traveled so much to different priests - both parish and monastery. And they often told me about the family curse in the fourth generation.But none of this is true, none of this is true. Each person is responsible for himself - first of all. And if he thinks that he is suffering because of someone, his pride is inflamed even more - he is so chosen that he is responsible for his family. And because of this, the drinking gets worse. Now from the “chosenness” of suffering.
I was coded many times - seven or eight times, now I don’t remember exactly. And I can say that with this coding some kind of hole is made in the consciousness, a part of it is destroyed. Let it be veiled with all sorts of acupuncture, IVs, injections - all the same, first of all, this is an effect on the human psyche. And when they say that now they will give a certain injection and the person will forget about drunkenness, this is preceded by a verbal coding system. They put something into your brain - some words.
I went through all this, so I know. The acupuncture or injection during this “treatment” takes five to ten minutes, and the preparation for it lasts two hours. It is clear that a person is prepared before this, his psyche is influenced. And the injection can contain plain water. But a person is subjected to someone else’s will and thus forced to resist alcohol. In fact, they make another hole in the psyche and break it even more. About the same thing is happening in Katyuzhanka, where Father Alexander allegedly conducts proofreading. Zveiled. And for every good deed, a person must work hard. And it cannot be so simple to come, stand for an hour or two at the service, listen to proofreading and leave healed. You didn’t do anything - you just arrived at some place at a certain time to see a priest, a doctor or a psychic. It doesn't happen that way.
In order for the Lord to send you some kind of healing, you need to work hard. Work hard not only in prayer, which is obligatory. It’s simple to work: for the glory of God, physically – all this is somehow complex. But without prayer, nothing will happen - that’s for sure, I experienced it myself. When I left the monastery five years ago, I began to have such spiritual warfare! The prayer either weakened or disappeared completely. And as a result - more frequent binges.
In the monastery, every day I made sure to read the morning and evening Rules, a chapter from the Gospel and one kathisma from the Psalter. Then I got tired, started reading the Psalter for “glory” only, and then stopped completely.
When you pray yourself and when they pray for you, these are two different things. My late wife began to pray for me in the late 90s. We came to faith with her help, and I am very grateful to her for that. And I have been trying to pray for myself since 2000. And only when he came to the monastery in 2007, he began to actively pray to the martyr Boniface, read the akathist to the Mother of God at Her icon “The Inexhaustible Chalice,” the Gospel, and the Psalter. But it was a lot of prayers - in my understanding. This is such a big rule. I had to cut it down. I settled on the Gospel and the Psalter. Although I read all this once a month.
If I stop praying and working on myself, keeping myself within limits, then I go back to where I was. I'm going on a binge. And when I control myself, I pray, when I am on the same wavelength with the prayer that is served in the monastery and church, then I really control myself. This is work. Daily, every minute work.
I returned to the monastery, but now I don’t turn to the Mother of God at the “Inexhaustible Chalice” icon so often. And more - “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” I have a rosary “for ten”, for my finger. This helps a lot - you find spiritual balance and peace.
Without prayer, I am nothing – such an amorphous state. And with prayer you feel protected - you are not afraid. You pray to Jesus Christ or the Mother of God and know that there will definitely be help.
In my 20 years of becoming a church member, I am still just learning and still becoming a church member. There is such a book “Prologue in Teachings” - reading for every day of the year. Here is for May 16: “Listen to good teaching from everyone, no matter who offers it.” That is, there is reading for every day, and it somehow guides you.
I usually read in the evenings the next day. Because prayer work protects and ennobles a person. If your brains and hands are busy with something else, then all this will be of no use. All this leads away from prayer and God—it leads into sins and passions.”
Help – imaginary and real
For more than 10 years, prayer services have been held at the icon of the Mother of God “The Inexhaustible Chalice” in the Transfiguration Cathedral of Vinnitsa. Every Wednesday, immediately after the Divine Liturgy, an akathist to the Most Holy Theotokos is read here in front of this icon and the water is blessed. Archpriest Vitaly Goloskevich, cleric of the cathedral, tells the story.
Spaso-Preobrazhensky Cathedral
Photo: Andrey Kononenko/fotokto.ru
“It is during this service that we pray for people suffering from alcoholism, drug addiction and other addictions - and indeed from any passions. It’s not like in a pharmacy, that a medicine is for one thing, and another medicine is for another. Any addiction is a spiritual disease, and when we pray, we believe that the Lord will heal.
Of course, it would be good if, first of all, those who suffer from this themselves come to the prayer service, so that they ask and pray. But most often they don’t want to, and most of them come from their relatives - wives, children, parents. And their prayer also has its power. We have prayer services in our cathedral every day, but the most people gather for the akathist at the icon of the Mother of God “The Inexhaustible Chalice”.
– Are there any cases of healing known in Vinnitsa through prayers at the “Inexhaustible Chalice” icon?
– In the Vvedensky Vladychny Monastery of Serpukhov, where this icon was revealed, there is a special archive where all the letters and other evidence of healing are collected - both those that existed before and modern ones. But even in the Akathist itself there are words that not only the icon revealed in Serpukhov, but also all other images copied from it, have the same blessed power.
We turn to the Mother of God, and she helps. But we don’t register miracles—people just come and tell stories. Of course, the Lord acts, and every believer is constantly convinced in his life that the Lord is close. Things often happen in our lives that cannot be explained by the natural course of events. Because a miracle is God's intervention in our lives.
For example, we have one parishioner who could not quit smoking. And then somehow I woke up and at one moment realized that I didn’t want it anymore. There wasn’t even any struggle or torment - the desire disappeared, as if I had never smoked. This can be explained in different ways, but if it happened after prayer, then it’s probably a miracle. And many such stories are told.
But the main thing is the faith of the person himself. And it is clear that the desire to quit drinking or smoking on the part of someone who suffers from these ailments is very important. If such a desire does not arise, then prayer is needed for it. Relatives and friends pray that the Lord will instill in him the good idea of quitting, and somehow encourage him to do so. When a person himself cannot, then the requests of other people are important. Like in the Gospel, when friends brought the paralytic. And the Lord, seeing their faith, and not this paralytic, healed him. This is how, according to the faith of wives, parents and other loved ones, the Lord brings people out of illness.
– It is for healing from drunkenness that people most often ask in prayers from the icon of the Mother of God “The Inexhaustible Chalice,” although the meaning of this miraculous image is deeper. Do you think that there has been a shift in the emphasis of people’s perception of the icon?
– The original meaning of the icon, of course, is Eucharistic: Christ, the Chalice, the Sacrament of the Eucharist - when Christ teaches us all of Himself. But spiritual healing, and spiritual life in general, are possible only when there is Communion. What unites us in the Church, as Christians, is not that we were once baptized, but that we approach the Chalice and receive communion.
For a person who suffers from any passion, any sin, communion is necessary. Simply praying and drinking holy water is not enough. To free yourself from drunkenness or other sin, you must approach the Cup of True Food and Drink, drink and eat the Blood and Body of Christ. Then the Lord will help.
And the appearance of the image of the “Inexhaustible Chalice” is Divine intervention, and not just people making it up. And there is symbolism in this too. Therefore, I do not believe that there is a shift in emphasis in the perception of the icon - this is an addition to its veneration, a certain combination of meanings. Because many things have ambiguous meanings - the symbolism of churches and worship, images on icons, etc.
And we, priests, at the sermon after the prayer service, tell how a person should fight passions. Everything is necessary here: prayer, reading the Holy Scriptures, confession, and communion. When a person lives such a life and struggles, then there is a result.
– Among non-church people, trips to the village of Katyuzhanka to a certain priest who supposedly heals everything are very popular. And they say that not only such a priest practices such spiritual help. What can you say about this phenomenon?
– I haven’t been there and don’t have much information about this. They say that people make some kind of vow there for a certain time. And it seems to me that some people, promising not to drink or smoke, are so afraid of breaking this vow that it turns out to work. Although others, not yet having time to return from there, again return to their previous affairs. I think it depends on suggestibility - some are more suggestible, others less.
But this is not how the soul is healed. People are looking for some kind of miracle worker who would instantly solve their problems for them. “I arrived, they read something to you, they prayed, they did and said something, and everything went away.”
It happens that a person has a soul inclined to passions, and when he cannot satisfy one passion, he finds temptation in something else. What is needed here is healing of the soul as a whole—transformation of the inner man. And it happens through the action of God's grace. This is work, this is labor - this is cooperation with God, which should always be in a person’s life. And this is the spiritual struggle, the spiritual work that changes a person. Then everything really happens when the soul changes.
But such an easy way - “decide for me there, pray that all this will go away at once” - this is another problem, and not a solution to the issue. Therefore, priests do not recommend going there.
– But at the prayer service at the “Inexhaustible Chalice” icon, it is the relatives who pray, and not the person himself, who continues to drink and smoke. It’s not he who works, but his loved ones. What's the difference?
“It won’t happen that relatives go to a prayer service once, twice, three times, and the person stops drinking.” Often in our lives we want everything to happen quickly. Sometimes we grumble and show dissatisfaction. But the Lord does not govern the way we want. But time passes, and we understand that everything that happened was God’s guidance. We needed this.
So it is here: relatives ask the Lord to save them, but the Lord will not force anyone to stop drinking. We ask that He will lead these people to repentance, to the realization that something needs to change. Most often this is what happens. Some circumstances influence a person - something happens that makes him think.
There are no rules for all occasions - the Lord approaches each person individually. And every such everyday story is a path to God: difficult and thorny. Because God gave us free will, and He does not force it. The Lord is waiting for us to respond to His calls ourselves.
The drinker himself comes and asks the Lord to deliver him. If he doesn’t come, the family asks the Lord to save, heal, and guide. This will not happen automatically. It’s not like a person drank and drank, and woke up in the morning and all: “Now I will be a righteous person.” The Lord will somehow lead him to this turning point - He calls each of us in some way. And we believe that our prayers have effective power. After all, what is impossible for man is possible for God.”
There is an opinion that female alcoholism is incurable. Alcoholic women, as a rule, become drunkards within a few years, and this process is in most cases irreversible. But there are a few "buts". And today we will get acquainted with such “buts”, as part of the successful story of getting rid of alcoholism.
I have always believed that alcoholics are degenerate and socially dangerous people who lie under the fence and are worthy only of contempt and blame. It never occurred to me that none of them were born this way, that this is such a disease, and even more so that I would also be a victim of this disease...
My parents separated when I was 3 months old because my father drank heavily. Subsequently, he drank in the next family, missed many opportunities, spent 18 times in drug treatment, fell into depression and died of inflammation of internal organs at the age of 59. At the same time, he looked like an 86-year-old grandfather.
I grew up in a completely non-drinking atmosphere with my mother and grandparents, and they did not drink alcohol at all. But I didn’t feel much love for myself, rather I felt like an outcast everywhere, somehow different - at home, in kindergarten, at school, and later at university. Almost all the time I was in a state of despondency, depression and dreamed of that happy day when I would break away from under the family wing and go to study in the capital. I had no doubt that this would happen.
The second time I entered the philological faculty of one of the best universities in the country. I settled in a hostel and started working part-time. It was hard, I was spinning like a squirrel in a wheel, and then I discovered that a bottle of beer, a couple of glasses of vodka in the park with classmates, a can of low-alcohol drink or a glass of cognac significantly changes my mood, makes me self-confident, joyful, full of energy and drive. I could drink a lot, and the rare severe hangovers didn’t frighten me at all - well, it doesn’t happen to anyone. Life began to sparkle with new colors.
I got a job in a very prestigious company, I found a person I really loved, and the prospect of going to live in another country, in one of the most beautiful cities on earth, turned up. Drinking alcohol became daily, I liked it, people gathered around me who shared my affinity for alcohol, drinking and parties became the main thing in my life. For a while it was all fun, harmless to me and those around me.
I was the center of attention, constantly coming up with interesting trips, dizzying ideas, and those around me were interested in me. 
Then I started to feel sick the next day and started to have a hangover. Slow use lasted for weeks. Every morning there was a jar of potassium permanganate in the bathroom to cleanse the stomach. Otherwise, it was extremely difficult for me to go to work. But by lunchtime, another glass gave me warmth and lightness. And so in a circle...
Along with the loss of physical strength, I began to behave more and more inappropriately. I became irritable, a real boor, I could yell at my husband and members of his family, insult a person in transport, I didn’t care about anyone or anything. I considered myself the center of the earth and was confident that I was able to solve all problems and tell everyone how they should live. If someone did not agree with me, he immediately became an enemy.
At this stage, I quarreled with my mother, who insisted that I had a problem with alcohol, and I persistently proved to her that she had problems in her head and in general she was no longer my mother. I began to lose my memory during drinking bouts, my husband often practically brought me home, and I began to have unreasonable fears, depression, and bouts of despair.
I took every opportunity to stay at home and drink alone, I stopped going to the movies and reading, most of my former drinking companions turned their backs on me - after 30 minutes of drinking, I usually went into a state of suspended animation and could only utter 2 words - “taxi” " and "home". It became completely uninteresting with me. Moreover, I could insult and express all the nasty things that were in my fevered brain at that moment. I started drinking with my neighbors, it didn’t matter which ones, as long as they gave me a drink.
At this time, emigration documents to travel abroad arrived. There, I thought, I’ll stop drinking and everything will get better. I drank here because the country is like this, there are only stupid people everywhere, there are a lot of problems. And there, in another fairyland, everything will be different. How wrong I was...
I started drinking in a taxi on the way to the airport. I don’t remember how we got there, at night at our friends’ house I felt terribly ill, and for the first time I experienced post-alcohol depression. I was afraid to look outside. My husband did not know a foreign language, I had to take on all the issues of settling in, finding a job, an apartment, etc. But drinking was already preventing me from making the right decisions, making the right choices. I started drinking even more and even more often...
I changed jobs, tried not to work at all, in the end, I decided to become an actress (which I had always dreamed of) and even took acting courses. But nothing could stop me anymore. My favorite pastime was drinking a bottle of vodka and sitting on a bench at the end of the street, or a large bottle of cognac and talking on the phone with family and friends from Ukraine. I started at 6 in the morning, fell asleep drunk, slept off and then started again.
The opportunity arose to return to my homeland, and I decided to go, because I was disappointed in emigration. It seemed to me that I had made a mistake and that I needed to return to further searches for happiness. But at that time I already understood that I had problems with drinking, since I could not stop, no matter how many times I made such decisions, and I considered myself a strong-willed person. It got to the point that in order to feel normal, I needed to pour a glass of cognac every 15 minutes. I understood that in this state I would not earn much.
Upon returning to Ukraine, I was coded. On the 5th day I got drunk, and literally a couple of days after that I began to have such strong fears that I had to increase the already large doses of alcohol in order to go out, get to work, go for a walk, etc. By that time, my whole life had already been reduced to drinking. Panic attacks began. I was afraid to ride the subway. We went for a walk in the park - I looked for any eatery and, under any pretext, dragged my husband there, we went to the theater - I was eager to go to the buffet, to the cinema - the show did not start without 2-3 glasses of beer.
In the mornings, I somehow pulled myself together and barely made it until lunchtime to drink again. Alcohol stopped bringing pleasure and relief. I just couldn't help but drink. I had to see a doctor. He prescribed strong sedatives, which led to a worsening of the condition. I became like a zombie and had tinnitus. At this time I began to cheat on my husband. Not because I liked someone, but because I stopped understanding what is good and what is bad. We moved away from each other.
One day I found traces of another woman in the apartment. If I had been healthy, the tragedy could have been prevented. We still lived together for 7 years. But like an ostrich, I hid behind the bottle and chose not to notice anything. It will resolve itself. This is, unfortunately, what alcoholics think.
The husband practically did not appear at home. And I was even glad about it. I could completely calmly get drunk and at the same time blame him - they say, it’s your fault. I hardly remember the last month of 2006. The doses of alcohol became uncontrollably large, my behavior became more and more inappropriate, and I still don’t understand how I managed to go to work.
One “wonderful” drunken evening, I got so drunk that I didn’t open the door for my husband—I just didn’t hear him. He waited under the door in the cold for 4 hours, and then gave up and left for another woman... forever. This was the last straw. It became impossible to live with me.
In a state of shock, I suddenly suddenly stopped drinking. At all. I didn’t know how to get my husband back, I was terribly tormented, life turned into a nightmare, I didn’t eat for 14 days and lost 15 kg in weight, I looked like a skinny moth, acne appeared on my face, hair grew out, my fears worsened, insomnia... I had to turn to a psychiatrist.
I was diagnosed with depression and prescribed a bunch of antidepressants and tranquilizers. Drinking was forbidden, but I didn’t want to. I was sure that this was over. After all, I haven’t touched alcohol for 3 months. While on the pills, my mood improved, I gained weight, forgot about the separation from my husband, found a new candidate for my hand and heart, whom I had known for almost a week, and began to live on, confident that everything would be fine now. As soon as I was taken off the drugs, 10 days later I fell into depression again. This time I had to go to the hospital and spend 3 weeks there under a drip.
On the advice of friends, my new friend and I went to Turkey, and there I broke down after 6 months of abstinence. I drank a whole tray of cocktails, drank until it became very bad, I had to call a doctor and clean out my stomach. After 3 months, another breakdown occurred, we quarreled with my man, and I, in a state of alcoholic intoxication, flew to another city, where the first case of approaching delirium tremens occurred.
On the first night, 3 ambulance teams were called one after another. In the morning I was taken to a mental hospital, where, after telling me what they would do with me there, my mother wrote an application to refuse hospitalization. I lived for 3 days in a fog, then the medications took effect, and I returned back to the city where I lived, accompanied by my mother.
After some time, I kicked my mother out, kicked out my boyfriend and decided to start all over again. I got a new job, bought a membership to a good gym, and quit smoking. But life didn’t make me happy, I wasn’t making any progress at work - I didn’t care, and after 3 months they asked me to pack my things, handed me my salary and showed me the door.
Despair and loneliness forced me to return to my ex-friend, and after 5 days, for some unknown reason, I got drunk again, without thinking at all about the consequences. By chance, we were in a car accident that same day. Then I got drunk, completely justifying myself with the stressful situation. Then again suspended animation, again ambulances and pills.
This time they decided to take me to the monastery, in case staying there would benefit me. A week later I was sent back from there because I didn’t want to do anything, I cried and complained all the time. On the way back, I got drunk right on the bus, and they had to take me back to the hospital and pump me out. This time I drank right in the hospital.
After some time there was another attempt to cope with the problem. Again, a new job, a new apartment, new plans. I got drunk on Easter. I don’t remember how and I don’t remember why. As a result, I called an ambulance myself and ended up in the acute ward of the central insane asylum. When I came to my senses, I was horrified by the realization of my situation. They didn’t want to let me out, but after 4 days they released me under the responsibility of my “fiancé”. Well, I thought, after this I’ll definitely never drink again. But it was not there…
I was no longer able to find a job. The people whose recommendations I referred to apparently did not have a high opinion of me. I turned to non-alcoholic beer and at first drank 1-2 cans a day. After a couple of weeks I was already drinking 10-12 bottles a day. Then another breakdown - meaningless and incomprehensible, another hospital - inflammation of the pancreas and again hopelessness.
That summer I turned 30... I felt despair and loneliness. Mom constantly insisted on my returning home. But I stubbornly didn’t even want to hear about it. After all, I dreamed of leaving there for so many years, not at all in order to return there again, my pride will not withstand such a blow, I thought.
I almost completely lost sleep, the pangs of insomnia became unbearable. I didn’t drink, but I constantly thought about vodka. And finally, another day came when my brain was burning with the desire to drink, and I went to the store again. On this day, I found out that my friend is a drug addict, uses cocaine and various other substances. If I didn’t drink and wasn’t so busy with my worries, I would have realized this earlier.
The disease made me a sociopath, I was afraid to leave the house, I didn’t know what I was doing, I argued with my neighbors, I got drunk and called the police, I was afraid of heights and afraid of windows and balconies - it seemed to me that I would jump there. At night I wandered around the nearby shops in search of a bottle and drank right in the morning, diligently pretending that I was sober. I turned into a crazy person. I felt really scared. Until now, I believed that I could manage everything. Then I realized that the situation was much worse.
My life was hanging by a thread, and I made a last effort and rushed to the only person who cared about me - my mother. At home I had to be freed from my dependence on tranquilizers and undergo a course of treatment in the hospital. The fears were unbearable, I was afraid to walk down the street, to be alone in the apartment, to communicate with people, etc. My mother and I went to church in the hope of begging God for relief in exchange for standing at the service.
I practically didn’t communicate with anyone, didn’t go anywhere. I was getting worse. In the winter of 2008, on the advice of friends, I decided to change my situation and went to Egypt. I spent a week in the room, I was afraid to even go to the restaurant and eat. Nothing made me happy. On the last day, I decided that it was better to drink and suffer than just suffer, and went to the bar. There I took a sip of wine, got scared and didn’t drink anymore, but cleared my stomach. I think that if I had drunk more, I would not have made it home.
Upon returning home, I lost interest in everything, I could lie on the couch for days, staring at the ceiling and not thinking about anything, I did not know how to live the next minute. I had to quit my job. One time I tried to drink some champagne with a friend. The experiment ended within a day. I drank a box of alcohol, went on a spree at a nightclub, and I woke up completely clothed in bed with a friend and a stranger, as well as a frantic desire to continue drinking. One more time I decided to drink a little martini in a restaurant with friends - I barely remember the end, since countless bottles of alcohol were drunk, and I returned several times for some unknown reason to the nightclub in search of adventure.
They tried to inject me with injections for cravings for alcohol, take me to psychics and healers, pour out wax, and subject me to various types of psychotherapy. I got so drunk that I started borrowing money from neighbors, since my mother took away my documents and money. I cursed alcohol, but I couldn’t live without it. I poured it into myself, it didn’t fit anymore, I tore it up and immediately drank it again.
The last hope was a certain monk, who in a distant Transcarpathian village seemed to be trying to get rid of drunkenness. I was sure that I could have another drink. After all, I'm going to get treatment. Now I will be cured and I will no longer enjoy this sweet feeling of euphoria. Alas, my memory remembered only good things about my alcoholic friend. I didn’t remember the nights spent hugging the toilet, nor the vows to God and loved ones and anyone else that I would stop drinking if it only made me feel better, nor the humiliations associated with the contempt of others for me. The money earned over the years of professional success was spent on endless treatment.
So, I got drunk again. This time I didn't feel good at all. After 10 minutes I was swinging and falling, I was drinking glasses, not realizing what I was drinking. I didn't care as long as it burned. Martini, burnt cognac at the station. Then I tried to break out the window in the compartment, argued with the police, woke up up to my ears in my own vomit, wanted to get out at the first stop and go wherever I wanted, and started to give everyone a hangover.
When we reached the treasured village, I was already going crazy from the disgusting and endless desire to drink more. I wandered around the village in search of a hangover and was ready to give everything for a glass of any drink. Under the church, a beggar threw a strong word after me, I grabbed him by the chest and wanted to fight with him. Mom had to buy me a bottle of wine to calm me down a little.
On the way back, I pestered strangers and got into a fight with a man who tried to flirt with me in the carriage. When I woke up on the top shelf in the driveway, I knew it was the end. I had no more hope. All methods have been tried. Ahead loomed a wet cot, empty bottles, living on my mother’s pension and stinking, rotten death.
I couldn’t live or work and I didn’t want to. With some incomprehensible last effort, I dragged myself to the hospital where I had already been treated before, and begged for help. The doctors didn’t touch me for the first two days. They didn't inject me with anything. I just lay there and walked away. I clearly remember the thought that came into my head - it’s better to go crazy, die, run around naked - but not drink. I still believed that they would give me a pill and everything would go away.
I was offered complete isolation for a month. This was called the psychotherapeutic frame. The doctors believed that I needed to reach the bottom of my emotional suffering, stop feeling sorry for myself, and start getting out on my own. There is no cure for alcoholism, I was told. Girl, get out of this swamp yourself. I am eternally grateful to the medical staff for this honesty. One doctor answered my endless stupid questions for 3 weeks, a psychotherapist helped me deal with internal problems.
But all this would not have brought results if I had not suddenly realized that I still have to live somehow, that life will not end according to my wishes, that the sun will rise and set with or without me, and also that there will be no problems are not worth the nightmare that alcohol has brought me to and what it will lead me to if I don’t get help.
Someone brought me a Bible to the hospital. I got up with tears and through “I don’t want” and “I can’t” I did simple things - brushed my teeth, washed my face, washed clothes, ate, drew and read with all my might. At first it was terribly difficult. On weekends, when the rest of the patients in the ward went home, I cried like a mad cow and climbed straight onto the walls, I felt so sorry for myself.
I believed that life was over and could not come to terms with the fact that a queen like me would now vegetate in the outback. But little by little the understanding came that it was better to live in the outback than not to live at all. And that I am not in charge of anything, that I can only accept circumstances and live with peace in my soul, or rage and prove my point, blaming everyone and everything and slowly destroy myself.
I had no choice. I had to just live. The “Booze” button no longer existed on my computer keyboard. I realized that the difference between me and the person lying under the fence is a sip of alcohol. And that he and I are sick with the same disease, only at different stages.
I left the hospital, having come to terms with my lot and my illness. All methods of treating alcoholism have been tried. All we could do was hope for a miracle. Someone told my mother that there was such a society as Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), that there was such a group in our city, and that people stayed sober for years by attending its meetings.
I was ready to do anything to avoid returning to my old lifestyle. I took the simplest job, did simple household chores, and began going to AA meetings. I easily called myself an alcoholic, because people who attended the groups shared with me the same problems, symptoms, feelings, thoughts and emotions. It turned out that I was not the only one unique, the feeling of loneliness disappeared, and a purpose in life appeared. Almost 7 years have passed since then. I have never been so sober since I tried my first drink at the age of 12.
The AA sobriety program is not religious. This is the path of spiritual development of the individual, which, in turn, leads to getting rid of those personality shortcomings that once led to drunkenness. 
The respect and love of others returned to me. I began to respect myself. I had a warm, close and friendly relationship with my mother, which I had dreamed of since childhood. By being sober and not losing the talents and opportunities given to me, I very quickly achieved a secure financial and professional position.
Travel, new experiences, a new way of life - sobriety gave me all this. And most importantly, I like being sober. I discovered that there are no problems that cannot be lived without a bottle, that all difficulties pass, that in joyful moments there are much more interesting ways to celebrate the holiday, and that life is worth living.
AA became a source of new strength and hope for me, gave me like-minded people, and helped me find myself. Spiritual growth is a lifelong task. But I'm ready for it. After all, I want to live and not just live, but live well!
For reference: What is Alcoholics Anonymous?
Letter from the Ministry of Health of Ukraine dated February 25, 2003. It is documented that Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) or Narcotics Anonymous (NA) belong to the world-famous movement of self-help groups that assist in the treatment and rehabilitation of patients with alcoholism and drug addiction, guided by the principles and ideas of the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions recovery programs. The effectiveness of this program, which has existed for more than 70 years, has been confirmed by international experience and many scientific studies. The 12 Steps program - as the basis for the rehabilitation of chemically dependent people - is used in the USA, Poland, Italy, Canada and many other countries of the world.
Since 1991, the “12 Steps” program has been used in Ukraine in the treatment and rehabilitation of patients suffering from alcoholism and drug addiction; it is included in the Industry Unified Standards of Medical Technologies for Narcological Assistance to the Population in Treatment and Prevention Institutions of Ukraine, approved by Order of the Ministry of Health of Ukraine dated July 27, 1998 No. 226. Self-help groups are self-financed and do not carry out any economic activities.
Alcoholics Anonymous is a voluntary, worldwide fellowship of men and women from all walks of life who meet together to find and maintain sobriety. The only condition for membership is the desire to stop drinking. AA is not affiliated with any sect, religion or political movement. Community help is free and available to anyone who asks for it.
The movement dates back to 1935 and was founded in the USA. Today, more than 2,000,000 men and women around the world are recovering from alcoholism thanks to Alcoholics Anonymous through the basic 12-step program.
In 1951, Alcoholics Anonymous was awarded the Lasker Award. The Lasker Award (Lasker Award) is an American award in the field of medical sciences, which is considered as “the second Nobel for the United States.” 
The following excerpt reads, in part: “The American Public Health Association presents the 1951 Lasker Award to Alcoholics Anonymous in recognition of its unique and highly effective approach to solving that age-old health and social problem of alcoholism... Emphasizing that alcoholism is a disease, the social stigma associated with it can be gradually removed... Historians may someday recognize that Alcoholics Anonymous was a remarkable enterprise of social pioneers who invented a new instrument for cooperative action; a completely new therapy based on the commonality and similarity of suffering and which has enormous potential to treat a myriad of other problems of humanity.”
Contacts of the Community of Alcoholics Anonymous in Ukraine.
I'm an alcoholic, it just so happens. And I want to share my story.
A little under thirty, a proletarian, but not a beggar or a scourge, simply unrestrained in this regard. I live, or rather lived, an ordinary life, and for many of my friends I am now considered a teetotaler - you will soon understand why.
In this story there will be no mysticism in the usual sense, only the very truth of life. I had a friend who was a drug addict, a man of amazing endurance, he was addicted to everything he could, whatever he sat on. He got mad at us drunks - they say, what’s stopping you from drinking? Drink to your heart's content, otherwise you're still calling in IVs, getting coded, and suffering from some kind of bullshit. Like children, by God. Until he himself drank himself to the squirrel.
I’ll skip the process of entering into a binge, its height and culmination, let’s move straight to the exit.
When you come to this, and you will come if you take my path, you will be met with a lot of unpleasant disappointments. It won't be the hangover you're used to; no, you won't get away with a headache. I won’t list all the delights, I’ll say right away: be afraid of insomnia. Sleep at any cost, through force, through I can’t, take pills, toss and turn at night, so that at least in fits and starts you can get an hour out of eight disturbing sleep, just sleep. Otherwise, on about the third day without sleep, alcoholic psychosis will come to you.
I had this after a month of heavy drinking: 0.7 - 1 liter of vodka per day. I was on vacation, I had the right. At some point, the vodka stopped flowing, I didn’t bother with any pills, I boldly decided to go “dry”, dementia and courage.
And on the third day of insomnia, the radio started playing for me from my morning shower. There was some kind of blizzard, but between conversations, the most gorgeous music flowed along with the water. Honestly, I would have grabbed the recorder and recorded it if I hadn’t been of a strong mind and didn’t understand that it was a glitch. I found it funny what was happening, no fear, no anxiety. Well, I drank up the radio from the shower, the prose of life.
And my physical condition was extremely sad at that time - I crawled from the computer to the sofa, periodically renewed my baklah with water, and changed the vomit bucket. And so my day passed. By evening, threads appeared in my teeth from somewhere, or cat hair (I have a cat, yes). He picked with enviable tenacity. And by nightfall, voices appeared.
I was still skeptical, told all these mind games to hell, and buried myself in the blanket in the hope of falling asleep. But everything turned out differently.
I don’t have the literary talent to describe everything, much less the desire, so I’ll just move on to specific advice for such a situation in life.
Not a single foot in the bathroom, toilet or kitchen, especially to the sound of dripping water. Pissing in the bed or on the floor, take care of water in advance. Believe me, it will be better this way.
A female voice will sing from the kitchen or corridor, it will be pleasant - do not sing along under any circumstances. If you have a pet, you now have at least two of them, but only one of them is real. I had a cat. The false cat differed from the main one in that he did not come to me, he only sat next to me and looked intently, waiting for me to call. DON'T DO THIS. You could still talk to him, he answered with thoughts in your head, but not yours. This also DO NOT need to be done.
No mirrors at night. And don’t look out the windows onto the street either.
It’s better to leave the light on, but sometimes you definitely need to turn it off (you’ll understand), and all of it, including every damn LED. DO NOT shine your mobile phone in the dark.
Do not talk to those who come to you, immediately ask for their name. Don't be shy about using obscenities. The blanket is your protection; you don’t need to crawl out from under it again at night, especially with your eyes open. Squeeze under it, close your eyes, cover your ears, hide within yourself, nothing good awaits you outside.
I didn’t follow these tips, and as a result, I was left almost blind (I wentuged out my eyes with a knife, one was saved), with torn wrists (what a beauty), deaf in one ear (I pierced it with my pen, it was too bad what they said to me) and chewed to shreds lips.
Now I don't drink.
In general, don't drink, guys.