Recovery In Theatre

It is incredibly hard to exist in the Chicago theater world without being able to drink. In 2011 I found myself on nine months probation for an alcohol related charge. As a stipulation of my probation, I could not set foot in an establishment that served alcohol. Not only did this mean no going out after rehearsals, it also meant that I couldn’t go out after opening. No one knew that I was under this restriction and so no one could understand why I was so stand-offish. In hindsight, it probably would have been better if I had explained what was going on, but I didn’t want to have to bear the shame of my mistake. In the following years, I have remained sober. And while I can go out to the bar to celebrate blow off steam, it always has a feeling of being hampered and people are suspicious of my not drinking. Not even the why of my not drinking, but my friends feeling like they shouldn’t drink because I’m not drinking. Or that I’m judging them for drinking. It was awkward

I think you didn’t realize I saw you – all those times – days and nights – with a glass in your hand; clear inside. You told me it was water.   I knew better. I think you didn’t realize I heard you – all those times – coming home late at night from “the lodge” – and being so loud and angry with Mom.  You always said it was her.  About money.  Or church.  Or the weather.  Or dinner.   Or something.  I knew better. I think you didn’t realize I was wounded by it all – deeply and forever.  All those times.  All the time.  I tried to ignore it.   It became me.  I knew better. I knew that you were drinking cocktails – only for grown-ups.   But there was no cocktail party; you were just drinking.  A lot.   I guess you were unhappy; that you didn’t like your life.  But I thought you didn’t like me.  Mostly, I knew you didn’t want to be at home – where I was.  So you weren’t.  But I was.  And with her.  I now kind of understand “why” you drank.  She was difficult.  She wa

Man, this blog is truly helping me stay connected to this artistic community I am a part of and I've been receiving tons of friend requests on Facebook and people reaching out, sending pieces they have written, and calling and all sorts of great shit. One thing I wanted to mention is how great our support systems are. What's most ironic is the people we rely on for help the most are the ones that we have traumatized the most as well. There's never any glory for them. I get to change my life and get sober and feel a difference. My partner gets to feel like she made a terrible life mistake staying with me for this long and will almost assuredly be disappointed again and again forever. We can never truly thank them and give them the support they need to get through this as well. How someone I have lied to and mistreated for years can pass me the ketchup from across the table and not say "Here is the ketchup you fucking junkie whore" is beyond me. It tak

At first it takes away all your fear.  That drink just warms you all over and suddenly you have confidence and you are the girl you always wanted to be.  All your qualms about being with other people, with men, just vanish. Melt away.  You think you've found your golden ticket.  The answer to all your problems.  Your release valve.  Your savior. You've found ways to incorporate drinking into every area of your life and you can justify it as if your life depended on it.  Because it actually does. You found your sweet spot.  And it works.  Until it doesn't. This is when most people realize they might have a problem.  This is when most folks would say, hey I need to watch this and take it easy.  This is what most people are able to do and carry on with their lives.  They can drink responsibly. Not an alcoholic.   The flip is switched.  The obsession starts to take over. Then it starts to make you nervous because you forget. You can only think about the nex

I’ve been listening to this podcast “Mindful Recovery” which is full of helpful information even for those who maybe just want to cut back.  For years I justified my drinking “I never drink alone”, “I have a good job”, etc. Then I started to realized that I never WAS alone.  That nearly every night was filled with social engagements.  I would go to a friend’s house with no intention of drinking and soon be 3 drinks in.  In “Mindful Recovering” he says that every addiction has its roots in some trauma.  For me it was probably my parent’s messy divorce and never feeling adequate or getting any sort of positive reinforcement  from my mother.  Being sort of shy as a teenager and having low self-confidence.  When I started drinking in heavily in college, it was the first time I stopped caring, even if it was just for a few hours about what people were thinking about me.   Of course, not addressing those feelings and emotions lead me to an unhappy relationship of co-depend

You think maybe you drink too much? I never did. I thought it was part of my charm. We'd go to a party, I'd get loaded and make eyes at everyone and everyone would be like "oh that dude is hilarious" and then I would be hilarious and then it was over and I'd look back fondly at the party and then I'd get an angry phone call the next day because I said something incredibly offensive to someone I shouldn't have or I threw up on the dog. This went on for about 14 years. Probably most of you haven't built up your own sense of legend in your head as much as I have, but maybe you find yourself drinking after the party when you get home too, or staying at the party too long, or having a couple slugs before rehearsal or arranging where to buy drugs during intermission, etc... You probably don't even know you need to stop drinking. "I don't need to stop drinking", you'll say to yourself as you stare in the bathroom mirror of