Jobs in Addiction and Recovery

Trying to hold a job in active addiction is an exhausting and soul-crushing endeavor.  For several years in the earlier days of my addiction I was a “functional” alcoholic (not that there really is such a thing).   I realized when I started practicing law that a shot or two of alcohol actually made me a more effective lawyer.   It gave me the brazenness and thick skin that I otherwise lacked, and those qualities are a necessity for a corporate lawyer in New York City.   By the time I realized the level of toxicity inherent in the profession I had chosen, it was too late to change my mind.   I had dedicated years and hundreds of thousands of dollars to the profession, in addition to being married at the time to someone who was in love with having a "boss bitch" for a wife, so my marriage was hinged on it as well.   

In the early days when I only drank after work, my days were hopeless, crushing, and miserable.  I was sinking into a deep depression because I was completely ill-suited to the legal profession, even though I happened to be good at parts of it. And I admittedly did love the positive attention my title brought me, but that only carried me so far.  Once I discovered that I could sneak alcohol throughout the day, and it made my situation bearable, things were actually stable for a while.  But addiction is never satisfied, and eventually it took more and more alcohol to achieve the level of numbness that I required to do my job.   At the tail end of my legal career, I was stopping by a liquor store for a half-pint of vodka before work, at lunch, and then another (or two) on the way home, where I would always have wine with dinner.  Some days I would meet my then-husband at a bar on the way home as well.   My alcohol intake was astronomical and would have been deadly for someone unaccustomed to that amount.  During one drunken incident, I told my husband I wanted a divorce because I was miserable. My husband decided that a change of scenery would cure the problem, so we moved from New York City to the Bay Area, only to have my problems follow (as they always do).   I started my new non-practicing job there full of hope and ambition to do it “straight,” but my body was already dependent on a certain daily intake, and my emotions were accustomed to being numbed.  After a while, I was back at my old intake, but this time people were starting to notice.  I never got an official “talking to” at that job, but I was getting side comments from the coworkers I worked in close proximity to. 

We tried yet another move to Seattle, where it only took a matter of months for things to fall apart completely this time.   It was in Seattle where my marriage fell apart, and on one hand I was deeply relieved, as it was no longer what I wanted.   The pressure of trying to be someone else at home AND at my job was just too much, and my marriage was the first thing to give.   Once I was living on my own, my alcohol intake skyrocketed even further.   There was one incident where I blacked out, only to come to in an Uber being dropped off at a detox.  To this day, I’m not exactly sure how all that happened, but I came to being cattle-herded through the detox intake procedure.  I was held there for four terrifying days before I insisted on being released and they legally had to comply, amid the vigorous protestations of the medical staff.   My only thought during that time was getting back to my job and my normal routines, because I was delusional enough to think that I could handle everything and make it right again.   When I got back, I had a serious talk with the HR department, as I was absent for a week of work with no way to contact them.  The HR personnel kept asking me if I needed to tell them anything – they insisted that they just wanted to help.   But I was a captive to my addiction, and clung to it and protected it like it was the only thing that mattered in my life.   So I denied having an issue - it was all a misunderstanding, it was a different health issue, etc….  I didn’t realize it then, but my refusal to accept help sealed my fate.   In another two weeks, I was too drunk to get to work again, this time emerging from a blackout to a courier dropping off a banker box full of the possessions from my desk with a letter of termination.  That was in 2016, and I didn’t have another job until 2018. 

It took more than two years to get enough recovery under my belt to even attempt to be a reliable employee.   When I did, I started out with contract work that didn’t exceed 40 hours per week, and the people there were relatively laid-back.  I was terrified of the inevitable resume gap question, but to my immense relief it was never asked.  I still wasn’t sure what to say.  On one hand, the person I was working hard to become didn’t lie anymore.   On the other, admitting to a severe addiction requiring a two-year recovery period would almost certainly blacklist me forever.  Luckily, they didn’t ask.  I’m assuming it was because I was only a contract employee, and the interview process was a bit less rigorous.  They were all still lawyers, but because we were all contractors and not competing for anything, we were allowed to be friendly and cooperative with one another.  It made a huge difference, and I stayed sober and motivated the length of the contract and left on good terms.  Getting this experience under my belt was critical, because it was the first job I had had post-law school for which I was sober the entire time.   I was able to look people in the eye and feel like an equal instead of an imposter with a big secret.   

When the contract position had run its course, I sought and was offered a rigorous position with a well-respected company.   I assumed that I would never be considered for the position as the company worked closely with the company I had been fired from in Seattle.  People love to talk, and a gossip-worthy firing of someone in a very niche corporate community was certainly something that would get around.  I was even asked the dreaded resume-gap question, and I answered it honestly although not fully.   I said I had serious health issues that needed to be addressed before I could return to work.  Which is absolutely true, but I obviously left out the part about me being a double-black-diamond drunk who almost died twice.   I will never know for sure, but I think I had a secret ally in the company who knew my background but for whatever reason, she convinced everyone to give me a chance. I'm not sure, but I really can't explain it otherwise.  I thoroughly enjoyed that job and stayed sober for the entirety of my time there, which was up until the afternoon I went into labor for the birth of my son. 

The lessons I learned from trying to hold down a job in active addiction were many, and I try to use my mistakes to help others in the same situation.   First and of critical import, none of the large changes that I made in my life had any impact on my addiction because I was not addressing the root causes.  None of the cross-country moves or job changes made a permanent impact on my addiction - any improvements I saw were short-lived.  While my job in New York was a catalyst for my decent into addiction, once my “switch” was flipped into dependency, nothing made a lasting impact until I accepted a life of recovery. 

Second, there are people and jobs who are willing to help addicts, but no one can help someone who is unwilling to admit the issue and accept help.  When I had my extremely uncomfortable talk with HR regarding my absence during detox, I might have been able to save my job, and probably would have gotten rehab paid for by insurance if I had accepted the invitation to discuss my issue.  Instead, I denied all drinking, refused to discuss my absence, and ended up getting fired with no financial assistance for recovery.   What an incredibly painful (and expensive) lesson to learn!  I encourage everyone to NOT be as hard-headed (and delusional) as I was and accept any help that is offered.   Admitting an issue is not being weak – denying the obvious is.