This is the first time I've posted anything about myself on any forum. I used my real name because I guess I don't care if people know who I am. That and I couldn't think of a catchy user name. Pretty lame, huh. I've been an alcoholic for at least 20 years now, I really don't know when I crossed that line. It's always blurry. I progressed through the stages gradually at first, then faster and faster. Working at a restaurant didn't help, but that's no excuse. It was a safe place though, and my life revolved around it for many years. I met many alcoholics there, and lost one of my best friends to alcohol during that time. When she died I promised myself that I would drink myself do death so I could be with her again. Seems so pointless now. But I made a pretty fair attempt at it, and people began to notice and worry about what a drunk I was becoming. I got two DUIs in six months during that time, and went through the whole court appointed treatment program. Educational and possibly useful, but not when you drink your way through it like I did. I had quit the restaurant job by then, and was living a very reclusive life. No friends except at work. I live at my job, working in an orchard for my cousin, who has always been my best friend and put up with my drinking because I could function reasonably well even though I was drinking all the time by then. And because he really didn't know how to help me. I lived in a drunken haze of regret, self loathing, and forgetfulness, It didn't matter what time of the day or night it was, if I was awake I was drinking. I was terrified of sobering up, the withdrawls were getting worse and worse. I could feel the trap I was in getting tighter and tighter around me. Finally I realized that I had one last chance to do something about it. I don't know if it was God telling me it was now or never, but I knew I would probably not live much longer if I failed. Fear of death is a very powerful motivator. So I made the decision to quit. I went to my boss and my co-workers and confessed what I was and told them what I was going to do and asked them for their forgiveness and support. My sister and brother formed a prayer group for me. I was supportive, but didn't participate. I was cut off from God in my mind at that point. But I was determined that I was going to succeed no matter what, or die trying. So I drank my last beer and shut myself in my house. The first two days were nothing short of complete and total hell. I was alone and my cousin was out of town, and anyway, no one really understood what was happening to me, but I survived. On the third day my cousin checked in on me and convinced me to go to the hospital. They stabilized me, put me on Librium and sent me to detox. I was there for six days. They tried to get me to go into a 28 day in patient program, but I'm a stubborn person and I refused. I wanted to go home and start my new life. When I got home I found that my cousin, his wife and some of my co-workers had spent the whole week I was gone cleaning my house. I was so touched. So my new life began. It's a fight every single day, but it's a fight I want to fight. I dream about drinking some nights, but I refuse to give in to any desire. It's not as hard as it seems if you are willing to be totally committed. I realize that 17 months only makes me a baby in the life of a recovering alcoholic, and I have many challenges ahead of me. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm trying to re-establish my relationship with God, and I find it gives me some peace. I'm sorry this post is so long, but I hope someone out there may find my story helpful.. God Bless