For a long time, I thought I was doing pretty well. Corporate career, six-figure income, good suits, decent hair. From the outside, it looked like success.
Inside, though, I was quietly drowning, in alcohol.
When the crash came, it wasn't graceful. I went from corporate comfort to counting change for groceries. I sold one of my cars just to get the lights turned back on. And still, I drank. Every day. A little more than the day before.
One morning, Brenda came into my office and said "please be here when I get home." She wasn't thinking I was going to leave her. It was her worry that I might do something drastic to escape my pain and myself.
Later that day, I found myself on the floor, shaking, crying, asking God to help me. I used to think scenes like that were for movies or bad novels.
When Brenda got home from work, we talked a bit and she said, "I'm calling your sisters for help," to which I replied, "Please do."
They came over. I lied about almost everything but I knew that something had to change and was ready to do something about it. My younger sister asked if I'd like to take a walk in a local park the next day and I said, "Yes."
While on our walk, she asked if I was still drinking and I said I was. She asked what ended up being a magic question: "Do you want to stop?"
I replied, "More than anything."
That was 2008. I haven't had a drop of alcohol since.
That night wasn't the end. It was the beginning. I chose a new life.
It wasn't a story or a movie. It was my life. And it became the moment my transformation began.
It's a bit ironic that I spent my adult life studying human behavior but generally ignored my own - and how my actions were quietly damaging me and everyone I cared about.