Me and my Anchor

Anchor. When I think of the word, I visualize it as a large metal shaped object deployed into the water to prevent a boat or ship from moving around. It lays underwater attached by chain or rope to the boat. When the boat wants to move on, it's raised back to the vessel. Some boats use one, others two or more. Because of the constant pressure from the water's current against the hull of the boat, having an anchor or two is a good thing.

Anchors also get a bad rap. People with addiction issues tend to state that their addition is like an anchor, weighing them down, causing them to drown in their own addiction. The anchor is now the bad guy, causing the addict to drown. The affected person tend to shift blame, and give in to the "drowning". Bad anchor - bad!

Should the truth be told, it's not the anchor that drowns you. It's your inability to breath underwater. The anchor is doing its job. It is holding you steady - in place where you think you want to be. So what do we do? We learn how to breathe.

I've had many issues with my life that has caused me to almost drown. Way to numerous to list them all (honestly, I don't even know them all). I do know that depression and alcohol played a big part of my near fatal drowning. I was being dragged down into the deep water (obviously my chain or rope was too short ... no cheap jokes please) waiting for the final moments.

Now I knew that having an anchor was good. It provided stability. I craved constancy. My life was always in turmoil as an adult. I was getting a divorced and fighting for custody of two young children. They were abandon by their Mother for two years without her ever seeing them. They (my sons) also needed consistency. I was watching a true parasite feed off the government system as well as feeding off of me. The courts gave the children back to her. The courts and Division of Youth and Family Services failed to make her (the Mother) comply with drug testing and sending the children to school. My sons were being abused mentally. She would bring a constant flow of strange men into the house. The children were sleeping in the next room, told to play in the basement or outside. Their Mother invited a drug dealer to move into the home and told the boys not to tell me. She told them he was her "boyfriend". He would drive my children around and he had no Drivers License (he lost it due to his not paying child support for his own children along with two hit and runs with motor vehicles). It was not what I wanted for my children. This isn't being said as the angry ex-husband or the Father who whines and complains because he doesn't want to pay child support. I never cared about the money. I did care and do greatly love my children.

While all of this was going on, my anchor became alcohol. Bourbon to be exact. The more stress I was under, the more I attached myself to drinking. I tied myself to becoming a drunk. To dull the feelings of failing, to numb the pain of living my life. Honestly to try and live life like I thought everyone else was living. No matter how hard I tried to get the boys away from her legally, I was disappointed at every turn. I had letters from counselors, schools, family and one of my sons handed drugs to me. He found it on his Mother's night table. It didn't matter. I couldn't get anybody to do the right thing. By this time my drinking was way out of control.

Please don't get me wrong, I was always a drinker. Since I was sixteen I enjoyed drinking. But I was never owned by it. I drank when it was acceptable and very seldom did I ever drink and get "drunk". The addiction surfaced during the stress of fighting her (she is affectionately known as "the pig"). I don't blame her for my addiction.

I became tied to my anchor. Another thing I found out is addictions hold you on a very short chain. So if you are in deep water, the anchor will drag you down in over your head. I had to lengthen the rope or find a new anchor.

I did not get sober by going to A.A. (Alcoholics Anonymous). I couldn't bring myself to do that. I had many reasons not to go, and only one reason why I should go. I also knew that if I did attend, I'd fail. I couldn't deal with one more failure. While I was drinking, I couldn't find away to lengthen the rope or breath. So I let faith dictate to me what I should do.

I prayed - God my Father, the Creator of all things, please help me. I am a sinner. I have done wrong against Your will and teachings. Jesus, being my Savior and Advocate, I ask in his name that you give me the strength not to take alcohol, in any form into my body. Please save me from myself. If you can find it in Your power to forgive me of my sins, I promise never to drink alcohol again. Please God, help me.

I would like to say that almost immediately the cravings stopped, but it didn't. What did happen though was I did not "want" to drink anymore. I still craved it, but for the first time in years, I felt like I didn't need it anymore. I believe that I was in a state of Grace given to me by God. That the Holy Spirit entered my body and ... well ... kicked Satan's ass and threw him out.

I now have a new anchor. My addiction was and is now tied to God. With God I have enough rope to stay steady, strong, afloat and breathing. My head is above water. Praise and give thanks to such a wonderful and forgiving God. No matter how hard the current of the waters pushed me, I am free and anchored. The boats that use only one anchor, well good for them. I have three, God the Father, Jesus His Son, my Savior, and the Holy Spirit who is tied deep into my body, my soul so that I will not break away and look for a different anchor.

Anchors are what you make of them, what you wish to use them for. But no matter how or why you have them, give yourself enough rope to breathe.