By 32 years old, Christy’s life was in shambles.
She had lost everything after more than ten years of alcohol abuse; her children, spouse, home, friends, family, and freedom.
“My life was a complete mess,” she says.
At the lowest of the low she was drinking at least four beers in the morning, bringing her kids to playschool well on the way to being drunk.
She has been in and out of jail and treatment centres since her early 20s.
In the last few months she found herself homeless, drunkenly wandering the streets of Edmonton.
Hers isn’t an uncommon story, and stays true to the medical definition that says addicts will continue to use substances regardless of the negative consequences they have.
Teri Smerychynski, a probation officer based in Athabasca for ten years, has seen many people like Christy.
She says that addictions and criminality often go hand-in-hand, positing that nearly 80 per cent of her clients are involved with drugs, mostly alcohol.
“Ultimately our goal is to have these people not come back into conflict with the law,” she says. “But we don’t always get the luxury of people wanting to get help.”
That’s how Christy was when she first went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting three years ago. She didn’t think she was like them and could fix herself on her own.
“I started to forget about what I went through,” she says. “I started skipping meetings and I thought, you know, I can handle one beer.”
Her life spiraled out of control once again.
November 21 was the three-week point of her latest attempt at sober living, a goal she says she could not have achieved without her sponsor Augie, and his wife Lori.
The couple opened their home so Christy could have a safe place to stay.
Augie, 64, is the other end of the sobriety spectrum.
He’s been clean for sixteen years, and speaks with the wisdom you’d expect from someone who lives the 12 steps every day.
Like Christy, he lost everything.
“I’d wake up at 5 a.m. with a 40 ouncer on the floor, and that’s how I’d start my day,” he says.
He first wife died of alcoholism; he lost his home and contact with his kids.
“It basically boils down to, you have to want sobriety more than anything else in the world,” he says. “I’ve come a long ways, and I’m still going a long ways.”
He attends AA meetings every week, to be reminded that he was in the same place as people like Christy.
They both accept that they cannot change the past, and, as the first step proclaims, they lost control of their lives to alcohol.
Their journey of sobriety is deeply personal, both Augie and Christy attest, but AA connects them with people in the same boat.
“You get to work with others so that you’re not alone. So many addicts feel so alone,” Christy says.
She is still isolated from many of her family members and friends, but she hopes to accomplish what Augie has in the last 16 years.
In sobriety he’s got everything he wants; contact with his child and grandkids, a home, a vehicle, and his wife Lori.
They met at an AA social function in 2001 and eventually got married.
Lori is the other side of the addiction’s picture. She doesn’t drink, but her life has been deeply impacted by booze.
“Really, we are just as affected by this disease,” she says. “The longer you live with an alcoholic without doing something different, you become as sick as they are.”
She is still dealing with the tragic consequences of alcoholism, which she talks about regularly at Al Anon, the support group for those indirectly affected by the disease.
She left her alcoholic ex-husband when she realized he was not going to change; her 20-year-old son, also an alcoholic, died four years ago.
She says that she had always tried to help her family members, at the detriment to herself.
“I spent time worrying, trying to fix everything, trying to cure them. I forgot about me.”
She knows she has no power in fixing others; that’s their job, as Augie and Christy demonstrate.
“I know what happiness is today,” she says. “It’s an inside job.”
When asked what they want people to know about addictions, all three were unanimous. “You are not alone.”
“If you think you’ve got a problem with alcohol and drugs taking over your life, bite the bullet and come to a meeting,” Augie says.
AA hosts meetings open to the public in Athabasca the last Thursday of every month.
“I had to keep going until I wasted most of my life and ended up homeless. You don’t need to go that far, you need to get a hold of it now,” Christy says.
Another valuable resource in the area is the local Alberta Alcohol and Drug Abuse Commission (AADAC), where counselors like Debbie Hammond connect with those seeking help.
They were instrumental in putting on events in Athabasca for addictions awareness week, which highlights the community aspect of addiction prevention.
“We hope to encourage and entice people to participate in healthy activities,” she says. “That’s part of the bigger picture, having a healthy community that gives people a chance to be healthy.”
Addictions are extremely complex, she says. Abuse and trauma may lead to addiction in later years, but protective factors like good role models and peer groups help people stay away from substance abuse.
But success is not something that happens instantly.
“It’s a lifelong process.”
