Alcoholism and Its Ramifications … Doug’s Story By: Christa and Doug Johnson

PART 1 ARTICLE 9 AUDIO FILE IN FOOTER

This is a deeply personal and heartbreaking story, but we hope it offers comfort and insight to those impacted by the nightmare of alcoholism.

My husband Doug’s journey with alcoholism began in college, eventually leading to a devastating stroke at age 54, 15 years ago.   His alcohol addiction contributed significantly to this crisis. Alongside managing Doug’s physical needs, I’ve grappled with feelings of anger, blame, and guilt—emotions common for families affected by alcohol addiction. Rational thinking doesn’t bring much comfort when dealing with the emotional consequences of alcoholism. 

My third book, Waking from Your Worst Nightmare, written during this painful transition, aimed to offer solace to others navigating the challenges of caregiving and the emotional impact of addiction on family dynamics. For years, the book sat unfinished, missing only its final chapter—this one.

Many have read about alcoholism and know its devastating effects, yet families and loved ones continue to suffer silently. Denial surrounds addiction, silencing people with shame and hidden suffering. While textbooks address medical aspects of addiction, the heart of this struggle is rarely shared. 

Doug’s hope has always been to use his story to help others understand the reality of alcoholism. Though he now faces cognitive impairment, the thoughts he shares here are his own, written by me.  We hope it offers some comfort and insight to those whose lives have been impacted by the nightmare of alcoholism.

Doug’s Story: The Reality of Alcoholism Through the Eyes of an Alcoholic

CJ: When did you first realize you were an alcoholic?  

DJ: It was during my freshman year of college. After just a few sips of alcohol, I felt this “Ahhhh” sensation—a sense of peace I had never experienced before. From that moment, I knew I couldn’t live without it.

CJ: Having seen family members struggle with alcoholism, weren’t you worried it might happen to you?  

DJ: Yes, but not enough to stop. Those moments of joy and peace were too powerful. There was nothing else like it. A trip to the liquor store meant hours of blissful oblivion.  What this might mean for the future didn’t enter my mind—denial is such a powerful thing. 

Alcoholism didn’t interfere with my success, at least not at first, which is why the term functional alcoholic applies to me. I excelled in Math and Physics in college, despite drinking heavily. My strong power of denial helped to convince me that alcohol was a net positive in my life. I’ve always struggled with social anxiety, but alcohol eased that burden. It reinforced my behavior so much that long-term consequences didn’t seem relevant.  

Of course, youth added to the sense of invincibility. I felt powerful, immortal. And, strangely enough, I never had hangovers or withdrawal symptoms. I didn’t even appear drunk to others. My body, too, was complicit in my denial. All these experiences gave me a false sense of mastery over alcohol.

CJ: Why did you decide to go to medical school?  

DJ: Honestly, I thought it would be easy.  

CJ: That was never my experience!  

DJ: Well, I had a photographic memory, which made studying easier for me. Medicine just seemed like the obvious choice.

CJ: You continued drinking heavily through medical school. Why not pursue a less people-oriented field, like physics or computer science?  

DJ: After college, I briefly worked in a halfway house with psychotic adults. It became clear to me that love and human interaction were the only things that had any hope of helping them. I realized love was the only thing that could heal me, too. Being a counselor was less threatening than other social relationships, therefore I knew that becoming a doctor would allow me to use my intellect and still engage with humanity on a deeper level.

CJ: So, then you met me. How did that change things?  

DJ: Meeting you was a turning point. I knew I had to face my fears about relationships and not let my shy, introverted nature stand in the way of something I knew I needed. The moment I saw you—so full of life, connecting effortlessly with everyone in the room—I realized I had found what I was looking for. Oh, and you were sexy, too!  

 CJ:  Well, that was jarring! I didn’t think, at 72, that I could still blush!  

DJ: That’s why falling in love with you was so easy. Following your lead—your sociability, your absolute love of people—I hoped some of it might rub off on me. And it did, but alcohol still worked better. I believed your emotional intensity would counterbalance my more analytical, detached nature. I needed someone smart, and you just made me feel lucky in life.

Do you remember that I told you early on that I was an alcoholic and that no one could ever change that?  

CJ: Yes, you did!  I grew up with an alcoholic mother, and it was ugly. I still don’t know why I didn’t run in the opposite direction, screaming! But you were so different from her.    I was in denial, too. And like so many others, I thought I could “fix” you. It took me years to understand that fixing an alcoholic is impossible. That realization made things even worse for me, as I felt like a failure.

CJ: After we married and adopted three beautiful children, how did you manage to handle all the human interaction that came with it?  

DJ: Honestly, it was the most amazing experience of my life. Having you by my side made it easier. I believed my theory of using my talents while staying in your wake was working. I loved our family more than I ever thought I could, and I was truly happy.  

CJ: And yet, despite all that, you kept drinking, more and more over time. It made you less available to us, and it became obvious that things were heading in a bad direction.  

DJ: Intellectually, I knew that. I felt guilty every day. I knew how destructive it was for all of us, but I couldn’t pass by a liquor store without going in. Once I reached for that bottle, nothing else mattered. The need for that *Ahhh* was simply too strong to resist.

CJ: Were you ever aware of how bad things were getting and that our happiness depended on you stopping?  

DJ: Only on a superficial intellectual level. The Ahhh of alcohol made me feel like I could live like that forever and nothing bad would happen.

CJ: A few years ago, you stopped drinking for two years, and I was overjoyed! How was that for you? Did you have strong cravings or dreams about never experiencing the Ahhh again?  

DJ: Strangely, no. I knew having a drink would sure be fun, but I was at peace knowing I was finally doing the right thing for our family. There was a deep joy in that.

CJ: Alcoholism is a disease, but it involves choice. That’s why it’s hard not to be angry at the alcoholic. What made you decide to start drinking again?  

DJ: I had a glass of champagne at a wedding. It was so wonderful that I knew my sobriety was over. I accepted that I would continue to deny the consequences of that decision for the rest of my life. Even though I loved you and the kids, alcohol would always have more power over me.

CJ: Did you ever understand how much this would hurt me? That it could destroy our relationship?  

DJ: No, I didn’t think about it, although it probably took more and more alcohol to keep that at bay.  I was already feeling subtle changes in my intellect and health but one sip made it all go away.

CJ: Do you remember that I told you I planned to leave after Sarah graduated from high school?  

DJ: No. Denial again?  

CJ: Yes, it seems that way.

CJ: In 2009, during Sarah’s senior year of high school, you had a stroke. It changed everything. Alcoholism had finally succeeded in destroying not only you but our life together. Do you remember the stroke?  

DJ: I remember wondering what everyone was getting so excited about. On some level, I knew something was wrong, but it didn’t really sink in.

CJ: After the stroke, you were bedridden, unable to care for yourself, and mentally impaired. How do you cope with the disability?  

DJ: Oddly enough, it’s not that bad. Denial has always been my superpower. You took care of everything, and it never occurred to me that this might be ruining your life. The ability to ignore reality lets me imagine things like scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef or taking sailing lessons. I even bought tools and equipment online that I had no idea how to use, just for the thrill of it. It gave me a sense of satisfaction—like a substitute for the alcohol Ahhh I could never have again.

CJ: You still do this all the time, and it drives me crazy! I used to quietly return everything, not wanting to take away any glimmer of hope you might have. But enough is enough. These fantasies aren’t helping anyone as our resources are dwindling quickly for your care. 

DJ:  Yeah, I never thought about that.

CJ: After 13 years, your physical and emotional needs became too much for me. Sometimes you would lash out with hurtful remarks. I felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally.  

I spent so many years trying to fix you, and when I couldn’t, I felt like a failure. Did I do too much for you?  Not enough? Was I that dreaded enabler?  If I had threatened to leave you, would you have stopped? 

DJ: No. 

CJ:  I realized I had to put you in a nursing home, or I wouldn’t survive. What was it like for you, hearing that?  

DJ: I was a little sad. I’d miss seeing you and the doggies every day. I decided long ago that I didn’t want to get out of bed again. I wanted to be cared for forever. But the part of me that still had a grip on reality knew you deserved a better life. I never would’ve offered it, though. I was shocked when it came to this.  

Here in the nursing home, I’m comfortable. The staff is kind, and no one pressures me to do anything. The food could be better, but I’m content.  

CJ: God knows, I pressured you enough over the years!  

DJ: Yeah, I know, but I chose not to listen. My life hasn’t changed much since moving to the nursing home, but you’ve gotten a chance at a new, fulfilling life, and that makes me happy.  

CJ: So why so many calls asking to come home?  

DJ: I don’t remember them.

CJ: Brain damage and denial, what a combination!

CJ: If you were miraculously cured tomorrow, would you go buy more alcohol?  

DJ: Yes, probably on the way home from the nursing home.  

CJ: That says it all, doesn’t it? The fact that you haven’t had a drink in 15 years doesn’t make it any easier.

ALCOHOLISM IS A LIFE SENTENCE

CJ: If Doug were well, would I go back to him? Absolutely not. I’ve learned that if you can’t accept someone exactly as he is, your relationship cannot thrive.  

We don’t have the right or the ability to change others, but we do have a responsibility to be honest with ourselves and make healthier decisions for our own lives. That is not a selfish act.  

I’m not saying alcoholics shouldn’t be loved. They need it more than anyone. But we must be brutally honest with ourselves about our ability to accept the reality of their situation.  

True change can only come from the alcoholic. Alcoholism lasts forever. Sobriety is a daily choice; a sacred commitment to be made every moment of every day. I can’t imagine how incredibly difficult it must be. I have deep admiration for those who succeed.  

But remember, even after years of sobriety, one glass of champagne at a wedding can take you back to rock bottom. And this time, you may not come back.

Our conversation had to end as Doug grew exhausted. The truth-telling and emotional intensity were overwhelming for him.  

Living through this nightmare with Doug has been horrific, but my inability to forgive has caused me more pain than anything else. True forgiveness is the only path to healing. That doesn’t mean we can go back to how things were—we can’t. But bringing this trauma into the light is an important step in my lifelong healing process.  

I hope Doug finds peace in getting this off his chest. The knowledge that he can still make a positive impact in some way is a precious gift for him.

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