CAM Testimonials: Cathy's Story
In the following case study, Cathy describes personal experiences related
to her struggles with disability, addiction and lesbianism. Cathy started
abusing alcohol during adolescence as a way to deal with the challenges
caused by her physical disability. Cathy?s drinking increased after she
came out as a lesbian during college. She sees her coexisting disabilities
as major contributors to her dropping of out college, her lack of trust
in people, and her obsession with control. However, with the help of
spirituality, a sober social network, and substance abuse treatment,
Cathy was able to conquer her addiction, accept her lesbianism, and achieve
personal independence from her disability. Since her recovery, Cathy
has made several positive changes in her life, and is now is able to
share her fears, struggles and triumphs with others. Although it has
taken Cathy a long time to know herself again, she ?likes herself?, and
feels she is ?worthy of a good life.?
Even though I'm disabled, my story is like most alcoholics. I am the
daughter of an alcoholic. My mom was a single parent who dealt with many
stresses related to being a parent of two disabled kids. There wasn't
legislation in place that protected our rights to mainstream services
such as regular childcare services. My mother could only afford to hire
fourteen-year old girls to baby-sit my sister and me. My childhood was
fairly unsupervised, and I always felt on my own.
When I was fourteen, my mother entered into recovery. I started using
alcohol around this time. I began my drinking career at a Muscular Dystrophy
Summer Camp. The campers' parents were aware that we drank, but seemed
to find comfort in their children partaking in "normal" adolescent
behavior. At camp I made several friends; however, until then, the only
other disabled child I had been around was my older sister.
I drank alcohol throughout high school, mostly after school or on the
weekends with friends. I was rarely asked for any identification; I attribute
this to the fact that I use a wheelchair and either cashiers assumed
I was older or just felt sorry for me. Ironically, these were the few
times I wasn't infantilized because drinking made me feel grown up. In
my senior year, I started using other drugs as well such as cocaine and
marijuana. But alcohol still remained my drug of choice.
The summer after high school I came out as a lesbian. Although my disabled
friends were accepting of my identity, they didn't really embrace it.
I went to events and parties to meet other lesbians, but felt uncomfortable
and mostly invisible. Drinking alcohol would help me to feel more at
ease in these settings.
I used alcohol to both cover up feelings and facilitate feelings. When
things got rough, I would drink. Alcohol helped me express my feelings
of sadness or anger with my friends. When my life became unmanageable,
I did not know how to ask for help. Instead, I would get so drunk that
others would have to take care of me. When I received good news or had
accomplished something, I would handle positive feelings by drinking.
After high school, I moved to San Francisco to attend a State university.
I made friends in the dorms and continued drinking alcohol and using
pot and cocaine. Most of my friends were other disabled folks who drank
and got high a lot. I was a vocational rehabilitation client with a vocational
goal of either becoming a speech therapist or an elementary education
teacher. I really wanted to be a teacher, but I didn't think I could
make it through the required years of education.
The summer after my first year in college, my social network expanded
greatly. I made several friends, most of them lesbians, by becoming involved
in peace activism. This circle of friends drank alcohol, but used more
experimental drugs like amyl nitrate and hallucinogens. I started eating
hallucinogenic mushrooms that summer. I also participated in a weekend
retreat for young disabled women. At this retreat, I met a group of disabled
women that invited me to attend weekly ?happy hour? gatherings at a local
bar. Some women came to socialize, but many drank heavily like me.
At school, my grades were never very good. I took several Incompletes
and dropped out completely for one semester. My rehabilitation counselor
did not provide me with any guidance even though I had missed several
appointments with her. She seemed to attribute my poor performance to
my disability, and never questioned to find out if there was something
else amiss.
After my third year, I quit school. I got a job at an organization for
disability public policy. Even when drinking blatantly interfered with
my job, I was not put on notice or even questioned about my behavior.
Because the disability community is small, everyone was aware that I
had a problem, yet no one confronted me.
When I was twenty-two, I began to spiral down pretty quickly. I started
to endanger my life as well as that of others?. I began to drink myself
into unconsciousness. My social support started to intervene, but backed
off even though I was clearly in a sick state.
A few months after, I received a call from my drinking buddy that I
met at Camp. She asked me to attend an AA meeting with her. We went to
a group meeting where all kinds of people went such as professionals,
skid row, men, and women of all ages. She didn't stop drinking, but I
did. I was twenty-four years old.
I can't really put my finger on the pivotal factor that lead to my recovery.
I had surrounded myself with people who didn't drink; some were in recovery,
some were not. My two roommates did not drink and the woman I was involved
with was in recovery. I had a few good friends who were what I call "co-drinkers" since
they drank with me as the only way to socialize with me. Once I quit,
their drinking nearly stopped completely.
I had just started working with an excellent therapist (also a disable
woman) who forced me to take responsibility for my behavior. She didn't
allow me to blame my poor choices on anyone or anything but myself.
I didn't go into treatment, or even attend meetings right away. For
the first year, I "white knuckled it." But I was barraged with
memories and feelings of fear and lack of safety from my childhood. These
overwhelming feelings lead me into a state of depression. Finally my
therapist suggested I attend AA meetings.
Although I hadn't been raised in any religion, AA's Christian undertones
did not bother me. It was easy for me to "take what I needed and
leave the rest." Someone had advised me to define my own Higher
Power as whatever was important to me. I needed to identify an entity
that I could put faith in, something that would keep me sober. In my
earnest to remain sober, I began to work the twelve steps. Wanting to
immerse myself in recovery, I committed to attending 90 meetings in 90
days, but discovered it was impossible because there weren't that many
wheelchair accessible meetings.
At AA meetings, I found a community of people who shared my stories.
At first, it was difficult for me to sit still and listen, for I was
caught up in judging others by their appearances. My political stance
always influenced me to view people who were not disabled, gay, part
of the working class or female as "other." The experience of
recovery enabled me to see people beyond their shells. In listening to
people share their fears, struggles and triumphs, I was able to see humanity
in all people.
When I entered recovery, I recognized that control was a critical issue
for me. In my daily life, I clung very tightly to a routine. I came to
a realization that so many aspects of my life were out of my control.
However, it was hard for me to realistically identify the elements in
my life that I could and could not control. Up to that point, I had it
all backwards. I would try desperately to influence how others treated
me. I would feel overwhelmingly guilty or responsible if someone in my
life felt physically or emotionally hurt. I began to see that even though
I could not change these situations, I could change how I let them affect
me. When I was drinking I was a very bitter, distrustful person. But
when I was able to forgive myself for my mistakes and have patience for
my daily transgressions, I began to trust others.
It was easy for me to begin taking responsibility for the parts of my
life that I had control over. When I realized how much pain and worry
I'd caused others when I was drinking, guilt motivated me to do anything
I could to make it up to those who stood by me. I felt embarrassed over
how selfish I had acted.
Accepting that I couldn't control everything was an entirely different
matter. This required inner faith, trust and hope. I went back to trying
to define my Higher Power which was the entity that I needed to "turn
things over" to. I reflected on my life and realized how lucky I
have been during so many rough times of my addiction. I started to feel
that someone or something must have been looking out for me. When I trace
the path of my recovery, I believe that everything has happened for a
reason.
I count the blessings in my life from childhood through present. I had
an older sister with a disability who acted as a built in role model
in my family. Although I have hurt many of the people whom I care about,
they have stood by me and supported me through this process. Many of
my friends have been shunned by their families after they came out as
gay, but my family still loves and accepts me for who I am. By looking
at my life through this perspective, I realize I have faith.
As parts of my life continue to improve, I believe that I deserve to
have a good life. I plan for the future, which is something I have never
done before. I realize that up to this point, I have never really had
hope for the future. Some of this may have been a result of my disability,
but primarily I think it is a typical mindset of most alcoholics. We
don't value life because we don't think we deserve it. It has taken me
quite a while to get to know myself again. But, hey, I like myself. I
feel that I am worthy of a good life. I view life as very powerful and
very precious. During my first year in recovery, I made several changes
in my life. I quit my job, I ended a harmful relationship, and I received
treatment for specific health problems.
Whereas I used to assume the worst of people, I now assume that they
have honorable intentions. I don't make excuses for people, but I recognize
that sometimes their actions are the result of fear or feelings of inadequacy.
I don't put my faith in one entity; I trust in human spirits, life and
the earth.
Cathy's support network was aware of her addiction and the impact it
had on her life. However, nobody, including counselors, confronted her
about getting help. Cathy believes that her support network attributed
her bad grades, her lack of attendance to rehabilitation treatment, and
her bitter personality to her physical disability. Cathy sees her addiction
to alcohol as the strongest influence on her behavior. Cathy's act of
taking responsibility for her own actions was a turning point in her
recovery. Cathy now plans for the future and, like Leslie and Johnny,
feels everything has happened to her for a reason.
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