Lush Life: Wine, Art, Madness

Lush Life: Wine, Art, Madness: "Wine" and "festival" used to be my favorite words.  Just the thought of them would make me giddy.  Two summers a...

Wine, Art, Madness

"Wine" and "festival" used to be my favorite words.  Just the thought of them would make me giddy.  Two summers ago, my life as I knew it changed dramatically at a wine festival.  In the midst of alcohol and narcissism, I thought I could balance my party life with my normal life.  In other words, I thought I could hang out with the man I was having an affair with while my husband was by my side.  Because, of course, I was so smart and stealth my husband would just assume this was another "friend of Kathy's", and I could maintain my charade.  Brilliant!

I woke up the next morning, hungover, but pretty sure I would just carry on with my day as I usually did:  bleary-eyed, impatient and no questions asked.  Timothy was sitting on the couch, looking lost.  I made my way to the kitchen to make my coffee when he told me to come and talk to him.  Something was up.  He read my texts and life as I knew it was over.

Thank God.  Not that I cheated on my husband, lied to my family and friends and arrogantly lived without a care for anyone else.  Thank God that I had reached bottom, my life was falling apart and I had no choice but to get help or lose everything. I was a train wreck and I could not keep it up.  Four months and many therapy sessions later I made my way to AA.  I was scared shitless and completely empty.  Timothy and I were together because we didn't want to ruin the kids' Christmas.  I walked into the basement of a building, certain there was nothing there that could help me.  I found a home.

I still marvel that Timothy took me back.  It is a testament to his character and loving heart.  Quite honestly, he is the finest person I know.

A couple of weeks ago we attended the same wine festival.  I was apprehensive; not because of the alcohol but the feelings that might arise.  I held Timothy's hand.  We looked at art and talked with friends.  We left early and went to an open AA talk.  Romantic?  Not really.  Loving?  Absolutely.  

The only madness I want now is this:  

Lucky

I live here.  This is 3 miles from my house.  My whole life, water has brought me peace.  When my life started collapsing around me 2 years ago, I escaped to this beach every day, if only for 5 minutes.  The water is numbingly cold, but brought me insight and serenity in the midst of an alcoholic existence and a failing marriage.  I'm lucky.  I'm Kathy, and I'm an alcoholic.  And I'm lucky to say that.  

I was brought up in a loving family, one of 5 kids, with two big-hearted parents who are still married, 50 years later.  There was no abuse, physical or mental.  There were no alcoholics.  There was laughter, love, tears and lots of hugs.  There still are!  So how did I end up depressed and alcoholic?  Luck.

I consider myself lucky to be an alcoholic.  I have discovered a new freedom and a new happiness.  I get group therapy at least three times a week, surrounded by loving souls who get me.  They are me.  I appreciate the little gifts presented to me every day, and I am learning to live life on life's terms.  My kids are happy.  My marriage is better than it EVER was, and I'm not afraid to live my truth any more.

I'm heading to the beach.  What a lucky girl!