It?s a beautiful warm day here in the tri-state area. I?ve opened and closed my mind to the idea of telling my story. I need to do that now or I may never. I struggle as I try to form the myriad of thoughts surrounding my departure from sanity. The idea that I had become an alcoholic is still an open wound. I can only hope that it will heal with time.
I grew up in an upper middle class family in Greenwich, CT. I had a fairly normal childhood. Dad was liquor importer and traveled the world. He drank but rarely to excess. Mom was a homemaker who didn?t touch a drop. Beside me, I have an older brother and younger sister. To the best of my knowledge there are no underlying alcohol issues there. I did drink throughout college, but it didn?t seem to cause me any problems.
Fast forward ten years. I?m married to wonderful woman. We just relocated to Scottsdale, AZ where I was working as a software developer. She was a financial advisor. We drank socially. Our beautiful daughter was born. Life was good. Then I moved to NY to my present company.
On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was in my office at 7:30AM. I was only a few blocks away from the towers. My dear friend worked for Cantor Fitzgerald and he was located on the 105th floor of the north tower. He called me at 8:15 to meet for coffee. I said I be there around 8:30 but got a bit held up by a call. I was half a block away when the plane hit. I was paralyzed by what was happening. My life spiraled out of control at this lose. Those event, those images are forever burnt into my memory.
Alcohol seemed to help initially but the anger inside me kept building. So did my drinking. Aside from my dear friend, I lost a neighbor on 9/11, we were not close, but it presented yet another void and had shaken my community deeply. I began drinking more and more. It seemed everyone was so consumed with 9/11 stories of their own that I began to internalize, not sharing my feelings, even with my wife and family.
I began drinking at lunch and for hours after work often missing my train home. After racking up thousands of dollars in hotel and bar bills in which very little could be expensed, my wife called me out. I denied everything saying I was working special projects and having dinner with clients. My marriage was unraveling and I didn?t have a clue. My 14 year old daughter began ignoring me. I had sunk so far, so fast. One night I met a woman who owns a business in the financial district. She had some friends with her, so the party was on. We were at a bar in SOHO. Somehow my AMEX card got away from me. Miss X charged 30K in clothing and jewelry before I was able to put a stop on the card. INSANITY!
I knew I was in deep trouble. My wife wanted me out of the house. I still am. Not sure where our relationship will go. I desperately want to rebuild my relationship with my daughter. We are taking steps, baby steps, to make that happen.
I still suffer the horror of that day. I smell that smell and panic. You NEVER forget the smell and sounds of that day. I see those images and cry. I have been to therapists who say I have PTSD. I continue treatment. It may be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but for me it means I have a long way to go. I will see clearly again. Thanks! John
I grew up in an upper middle class family in Greenwich, CT. I had a fairly normal childhood. Dad was liquor importer and traveled the world. He drank but rarely to excess. Mom was a homemaker who didn?t touch a drop. Beside me, I have an older brother and younger sister. To the best of my knowledge there are no underlying alcohol issues there. I did drink throughout college, but it didn?t seem to cause me any problems.
Fast forward ten years. I?m married to wonderful woman. We just relocated to Scottsdale, AZ where I was working as a software developer. She was a financial advisor. We drank socially. Our beautiful daughter was born. Life was good. Then I moved to NY to my present company.
On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was in my office at 7:30AM. I was only a few blocks away from the towers. My dear friend worked for Cantor Fitzgerald and he was located on the 105th floor of the north tower. He called me at 8:15 to meet for coffee. I said I be there around 8:30 but got a bit held up by a call. I was half a block away when the plane hit. I was paralyzed by what was happening. My life spiraled out of control at this lose. Those event, those images are forever burnt into my memory.
Alcohol seemed to help initially but the anger inside me kept building. So did my drinking. Aside from my dear friend, I lost a neighbor on 9/11, we were not close, but it presented yet another void and had shaken my community deeply. I began drinking more and more. It seemed everyone was so consumed with 9/11 stories of their own that I began to internalize, not sharing my feelings, even with my wife and family.
I began drinking at lunch and for hours after work often missing my train home. After racking up thousands of dollars in hotel and bar bills in which very little could be expensed, my wife called me out. I denied everything saying I was working special projects and having dinner with clients. My marriage was unraveling and I didn?t have a clue. My 14 year old daughter began ignoring me. I had sunk so far, so fast. One night I met a woman who owns a business in the financial district. She had some friends with her, so the party was on. We were at a bar in SOHO. Somehow my AMEX card got away from me. Miss X charged 30K in clothing and jewelry before I was able to put a stop on the card. INSANITY!
I knew I was in deep trouble. My wife wanted me out of the house. I still am. Not sure where our relationship will go. I desperately want to rebuild my relationship with my daughter. We are taking steps, baby steps, to make that happen.
I still suffer the horror of that day. I smell that smell and panic. You NEVER forget the smell and sounds of that day. I see those images and cry. I have been to therapists who say I have PTSD. I continue treatment. It may be Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but for me it means I have a long way to go. I will see clearly again. Thanks! John
Comment