On May 7th, I celebrated 4 years of continuous sobriety.

I can still recall when I relapsed within 48 hours of leaving my 3rd treatment for alcoholism.

During the last few mornings of this particular relapse, I remember how I spent each morning on my hands and knees in front of the toilet vomiting followed by the cold sweats. Sometimes I would vomit so violently that I thought my eyeballs would pop out of my head. I was shaking so badly that I needed both hands to hold the glass of alcohol to bring it to my mouth.

There was nothing glamorous about this. No party the night before. I was alone at home again and I was simply dying from shame and alcoholism. It’s quite a fragile and helpless state when you have a disease that tells you three things once the craving takes over. It says:

1. You do not have this disease and you can drink like other normal people. It will be different this time…

2. If you do not drink, then you will die.

3. You’re going to die!

Finally on day nine of this relapse I agreed to seek help again with support from my therapist. The technician from the rehab had to wait at the door as I was unable to stand up and walk. I was laying there on the floor soaked in my own urine while he knocked on the door.