The Testimony of Christina
For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Christina, and I am a believer in Jesus Christ who suffers from severe alcoholism.
I was raised in a low income family, here in Jacksonville, where I have lived all my life. When I was 9 years old, my father, who cheated often, decided he was happier with one of his extramarital affairs, and left my mother. It was the start of a non-existent relationship that I had with him for the remainder of my life. It wasn’t long however, before mom had found an adequate replacement, filling that void, with an abusive man who would physically hurt her on a regular occasions. This lasted, off again, on again, for a little over six years while I was growing into the woman that I would become. This was my male role model, for what a man/husband should have been. During that time, mom would work two full time jobs to make ends meet.
At 18, I was introduced to Old English by my brother, and his friends during a casual gathering. And although it tasted horribly, I drank as much as I could of it to impress them. This started me down my path of addiction. At 21, as soon as I was legal, I began drinking heavily. I was a regular with the locally stationed navy boys, and being able to out-drink them, I gained acceptance, even admiration. I turned that to my advantage and became sexually active. The duality of it spelled my downfall. In drinking, I could find acceptance, and being drunk, I could find affection and sexual fulfillment. Sex became a drug of choice, as much as drinking. As I continued on my downward spiral, I would find myself in the bed of anyone that would have me, sometimes with no memory of how or when I got there. There were even times when a friend who owned an escort service would call on me, and I would sell the only thing that I had worth having. These were the only times that I felt worth anything, the only times that I felt truly loved.
At 24, I met my husband to be. In bed I was his first, which gave me a feeling of love that I hadn’t felt before. We fell in love, and were married when I was 25. He was navy, and as was their way, he was sent on deployment for 6 months. This was only 6 months after we were married, and I lost all control, losing myself deeper in my bottle. I was known to spend $200.00 a week on alcohol and drinking with friends. Sadly, his return home from deployment did nothing to curb my drinking.
At 26, I became pregnant with my son, Riley. At that time, I decided that it was time that I stopped both my drinking and smoking habits for the health of my unborn child. I stopped both habits and had Riley. I didn’t look back. I stayed clean and sober until my second child, Amelia, was born. She was six months old when things in our marriage started going south.
My husband received his medical discharge from the Navy when my son had been born, and although efforts were made on both our parts, we found ourselves at odds, regularly arguing, and a discontent with my home life, brought back my old habits that had given me comfort.
That discontent turned into adultery on both of our parts. I would regularly visit a “friend” in central Florida, making excuses to go down and visit her so that I would be able to find time with her brother. The attraction that I had had in our past caused me to seek that comfort and led to regularly finding solace in his bed. Meanwhile, my husband was finding comfort in other places as well. The irony doesn’t escape me, that these endeavors were not a secret. But as long as both of us were aware of the other’s attentions, and actions, it made it all right. Meanwhile, my drinking habit continued to grow. It wasn’t unheard of that I would drink 3 liters of wine in one evening. I convinced myself that my excuses over my excess were acceptable and believed by others. I needed it because I was depressed. I drank because I was off my medications. I drank because I was an insomniac and it helped me sleep. Needless to say, others left me alone, frankly because if I was approached, with the possibility that I had a problem, I would lash out, verbally, irritated at the suggestion.
It was about this time that we were invited to this church. The invite came from a source that we never imagine would invite us to a church. And that fact alone caused our interest to be piqued. Surely if the church had helped him, it could help us. So we came.
Our salvation came slowly but surely. Ken attended a service first, with the rest of us following him the following weekend. We were welcomed with open arms, something that had been sorely lacking all our married lives. My husband was baptized and I turned my life over to Christ.
The drinking continued.
A Celebrate Recovery ministry was started at this church and I joined the ministry, trying to help others, and in doing so, helping myself. During that time, I successfully quit drinking for 6 months. I had turned it over to God, in my mind, and that was enough. I was wrong.
Troubles in our marriage caused a relapse with a vengeance. I spiraled out of control again, not believing that anyone cared, thinking that I was alone. It was only later, in hindsight, that I realized that I had never truly turned it over to God, that I had only said the words and not put my faith truly into the system. I became angrier, and meaner than I had ever been, thinking that God had abandoned me to my fate. I not only stopped attending CR, but service on Sundays as well as my Bible small group. I became more miserable than ever. This lasted for 8 months.
In my misery, I remember a friend nagging me incessantly that I needed to return, at least to small group. There I would feel loved, and not alone. It was God, and He was reminding me through this friend, that I wasn’t as alone as I thought, and that it was in my own pride that I had set myself apart.
I slowly returned. First to my small group, then to Sunday services, and finally to Celebrate Recovery. In prayer, I determined that the reason I had failed, was never the lack of love, that others, and God had for me, but rather the lack of faith in those that did care, including my Savior. All my life, I had had to fight for any love that I experienced. That others might love me for the sake of me had never occurred to me. That God loved me for who I was, never occurred to me as well. Again, I was wrong.
My re-entrance into the Celebrate Recovery ministry, was approached with much trepidation. I had attended, I had failed, and I had abandoned. There was no reason for them to take me back. But a nagging friend could not leave it alone. In essence I came back, so that he would leave me alone. Again, God was at work, in the oddest way possible, but the way that I needed.
Upon my return, I was determined to make the changes needed in me, so that this time, my recovery would stick. After 8 months of misery, I turned myself over to God’s mercy and chose to keep my fate in His hands.
I started working the steps, truly working the steps.
Since this revelation, several things have occurred that I never would have imagined.
I have now regularly attended weekly Bible study with a family I didn’t realize that I had. I have followed the steps at every opportunity. I have attended Alcohol Anonymous meetings. I have faithfully stuck with the Celebrate Recovery program. I have a sponsor and friend, that I can and DO turn to regularly when I feel life is causing me to stumble. All these to deal with my addiction.
But more has occurred.
My children have a newfound relationship with their mother, one where their lives are centered on Christ, instead of the world. My relationship with my mother has improved, and she has been invited to church, a seed is planted, and she has been healed by the Lord. In my everyday life, with everyday stressors, I turn to God, rather than to drink. And this week, I am clean and sober for 6 months.
All this to say, in simplicity I have grown. I have grown in ministry. I have grown in my faith. I have grown in my love of a Savior, to whom I am eternally indebted. I do not deserve this mercy, this growth, this family, and this love. To put it simply, I am blessed.
I would like to end with a few Scriptures that have helped me:
Psalm 121:1-2
I lift
up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
August, 2011