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“Two and a half years ago, I collapsed in my apartment and wanted to kill myself. There was no happiness inside of me; It was a human shell and the only thing it ate was grapes in liquid form.
People often have a preconceived idea about the type of person who suffers from alcohol and drug addiction, and someone from a good family, who went to a private school, usually does not meet the requirements.
Growing up, my mother constantly warned me that alcoholism was hereditary and this made me suspicious, at least for a time. I had my first drink when I was 17, but my addictive personality developed when I was much younger.
I liked to please people and I was obsessed with making others happy. I thought if I could make my parents smile then they wouldn’t be unhappy in their marriage. I was like a chameleon changing colors to suit everyone.
Sometimes I would sit at a table with a group of people who had a conversation in my head about whether they liked me or not. Paranoia was a constant burden. Alcohol suddenly became a crutch for dealing with social situations that were stressing me out.
When I turned 18 in the millennium year, I went to work in a bar in Ayia Napa in Cyprus for four months. That’s when the drinking blackout started.
All those anxieties and the need to please people suddenly vanished and it felt like Jennifer had arrived. I didn’t care what people thought anymore, I didn’t even care about myself. On my days off, I would sit at home – alone – with two bottles of wine and I wouldn’t remember going to bed.
Working in the bar and restaurant industry added fuel to the already raging fire. The hours were long and a drink at the end of a shift seemed like a fair reward for dealing with rude customers all day. But it was never just one and there was always a party to go to.
I mixed with people who enjoyed drinking at the same rate as me and who used cocaine at the same level as me. That way, there was no trial, except for me. Anyone who didn’t drink like me was a square and anyone who tried to intervene was off my friends list. That mentality continued for 16 years.
My drinking ruined many relationships and hurt the people I care about, like my ex-boyfriend who I was with for six years and who I was engaged to for a year. Looking back, he was very codependent. I would wake up and ask him if he loved me because I needed that kind of reassurance in my life every day.
We need tough love in addiction, and if someone keeps forgiving you, you start to make your actions acceptable in your head.
I had 23 stitches on my chin, I split my ear in two parts. I’ve been in and out of the emergency department, but not once did I turn around and leave, you know what? Maybe it’s the alcohol.
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different reaction. You think, ‘this time it’s going to be different, this time I’ll drink like a lady.’ But it was never different, it only got worse.
When that relationship broke down, I was alone for a year and burned my life to the ground. He was always drinking, taking drugs, and having a hangover. He was an active alcoholic in the sense that he could go to work. It didn’t matter what hangover he had, he still went to work and had a drink to calm the tremors. He was on a wheel of destruction.
The turning point came two and a half years ago. I was in my room, on my knees, crying hysterically an hour and a half before I was due to go to work.
I will never forget the image of my dog sitting on my bed, looking at me with a worried face. It was as if he was saying, ‘if you die, who is going to take care of me?’ And strangely, that was the wake-up call. Not the drunken injuries or ruined relationships, but the fear of what would happen to my dog.
I think everything happens for a reason and that same day my dad called me on the phone out of nowhere to tell me he needed help.
I blamed everyone for my drinking except myself. My job sucked, my parents’ divorce … but it wasn’t about that. I used all of that as an excuse to drink.
You eliminate substance abuse and suddenly you are left with all those raw feelings that you spent your entire life trying to ignore.
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Jennifer McKernan says she has always pleased people. Photo: Gerry Mooney
I was very lucky that my parents could afford to send me to Smarmore, a private rehab clinic in Co Louth. Not everyone has that luxury. That’s where I celebrated my 36th birthday, and it was the worst birthday of my life. There has to be a will on his part to change, and I took action for the next three weeks, after initially rebelling.
After getting out of rehab, I signed up for a sponsorship program for people like me. It was the first place I felt I belonged. It was really comforting to know that there were other people on the planet with these strange and irrational thoughts.
Recovery only comes from looking at your own shit. I have been seeing a therapist for the past two years, which really helps. It’s like being a bucket full of resentment, pain, and fear and realizing that you can’t empty it on your own. You need help getting rid of the cargo and then you try to focus on keeping the container empty.
Two weeks ago I had a really bad week where I was trying to control everything. That’s what addicts do. You want to control everything from the person driving in front of you to the weather. Now, on bad days, instead of turning around to drink, I kneel down and do a five-minute meditation. At night, I take an inventory of all the horrible things I’ve felt and then start over the next day.
Don’t get me wrong, I still wake up with that fear and feeling of impending death. But now I feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel. I have returned to work at a busy restaurant in Temple Bar and have no problem serving alcoholic beverages or cocktails. Sometimes I think about just having one drink, but then I think about where it will take me.
I finish work at 3 in the morning some nights, but instead of going to a party, I go home, meditate, and relax with my dog. It sounds boring, but it’s a lot less boring than the monotonous roller coaster of chaos I was on before.
My most regret is that I did not get help sooner. I had a lot of people I had to apologize to, including my old roommate and my ex-boyfriend. I reconnected with cousins and aunts whom I avoided after showing up at family events. I have never been closer to my grandfather, who is now like a rock to me.
You now understand how alcoholism is a disease, it is not about greed or unwillingness to stop. I have been sober for two years and six months and, for the first time, I feel comfortable in my own company. ”
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