"I got out of treatment late September 1978 and returned to Potsdam as a part-time teacher to give me time to heal. I immediately got involved in twelve step programs and gained more friends sober than I'd had in my entire life. I also volunteered at the parish and the local mental health center, things I'd never done before.

"I realized I worked well with alcoholics, not only because I knew a lot about addiction, but because I wasn't judging or condemning them, and they couldn't say I didn't understand.

"I went to Rutger's

Eleanore Martinez, Director of Renaissance House, West Seneca, New York, agreed to share her journey into and out of alcoholism.

She said, "I was a late blooming alcoholic. I abused alcohol in my 20s and became addicted in my 30s. It took me years to understand that I had a problem. Addiction is a cunning, very powerful, sneaky type of illness. It can creep up on you very slowly, and the line one crosses between abusing drugs and depending on them is very thin.

"In 1959, my community of the Grey Nuns of the Sacred Heart sent me out to teach grade school in New York City. I fell in love with teaching.

"In 1964 I was sent to a junior high school in Ogdensburg, New York. The school was being departmentalized and, as the new teacher, and the youngest (26), I was assigned to the science curriculum in spite of the fact I had an undergraduate degree in English.

"I discovered that I loved science, that the kids loved it, and that it was fun and challenging. I was awarded National Science Foundation grants to study science and spent the next two summers at Eastern Illinois University and Bradley University, returning each fall to teach in Ogdensburg.

"The summers were stressful. Some of the care-packages I received contained bottles of wine. I shared them with others in the dorm and found that drinking relaxed me. It changed how I felt and made me feel comfortable. I found myself looking forward to the arrival of the packages. At this point, I never thought about buying my own bottle, nor did I crave a drink.

"In 1969, I was asked to teach science at a high school in Buffalo. I was about 30. To prepare for this position, I attended Fordham University in the summers to earn a Master's degree in science. I struggled to keep up with my young classmates.

"In the evenings I'd have a couple of drinks by myself until I could sleep. I had graduated from being very generous with my care-packages to being selfish. After all, if I shared my alcohol, I might not have enough for myself.

"I became conscious of wanting, not just enjoying, the results of drinking.

"I started out using a shot glass to measure the whiskey for each drink. As my level of tolerance changed, my feelings and attitude's toward drinking changed. I now needed two or three drinks to achieve the effect of one, and I dispensed with the shot glass.

"To conceal my drinking, I would drink only at night and alone in my room. I believed I had legitimate reasons to drink that others would not understand.

"From 1969 to 1974, I taught high school in Buffalo and studied in the summers at Fordham. I injured my back during this time. A doctor prescribed Valium and Codeine. From then on, the medical findings insured me a steady supply of muscle relaxants and pain killers.

"I learned that, if I had a drink at night, and I took a Valium, I got a much bigger high, a much greater sense of relief. I now know that this happened because using alcohol simultaneously with drugs (especially those that depress the central nervous system) enhances the effects of drugs.

"I told one doctor about the stress in my life and he prescribed Librium. He didn't know about my drinking or the Codeine and Valium; he never asked. Because I was a teacher, in charge of the department curriculum, and in charge of several after-school activities, he never suspected that I was a functioning alcoholic. The medical profession needs to learn how to confront patients regarding substance abuse. Doctors often treat the symptoms and not the disease of chemical dependency.

"Drinking increased my feelings of guilt. I watched students hide liquor in their lockers. I was very much aware of the harm students were inflicting on themselves, but I was unable to transfer that awareness to myself.

"As my guilt increased, I compensated by working harder to prove to myself and others that I was fine. But I was very uncomfortable inside and growing increasingly unhappy.

"Three years into drinking heavily, I began to experience withdrawal symptoms on a daily basis. I'd wake up with a hangover, a headache, and/or the shakes, and take a Valium to feel better.

"Sane, sociable drinkers don't mark the bottle into nightly allotments, yet I did this, trying to control my consumption and prove I was okay. I reached a point where I would drink my Monday and Tuesday rations on Monday, and tell myself I'd skip my Tuesday share. It never worked. On Tuesday I couldn't wait until Wednesday, so I'd drink Wednesday's, Thursday's and Friday's allotments, and buy another bottle before I wanted to.

"I began making 'balloon' wine by the gallon. Sometimes I would use cough medicine containing alcohol to avoid buying another bottle of rye. I blamed the world and the world's demands on me for my misery. After all, I studied to teach English, not science; I didn't ask to go to Fordham, I was sent, and so forth. I felt that I was asked to accomplish more than I had agreed to. I drank to reward myself for working hard, and as a release from stress. But eventually, I drank just to get through the day. I had crossed the line from abuse to addiction.

"One morning, my best friend said she was worried about my drinking. I immediately experienced extreme shame and rage. I was ashamed of my drinking and furious that others knew about it. I said, 'Thank you for pointing that out for me. I'll take care of it.' And I set up more barriers between me and those who could help me.

"Alcoholism changed my value system. It built a brick wall around me. Other people talked to that wall, not to the Ellie behind it. And I responded, not from my heart, but from that wall.

"I reached a point at which I had to choose between being with friends and the bottle. I began to choose the bottle and not the things that used to matter to me.

"As I continued to use and my self-esteem began to go on a down escalator, plunging from floor to floor. I pretended I was okay, but inside I disapproved of myself, and I was ashamed of my drinking. I did not like me. I did not understand that alcohol and the other drugs I was using depressed my central nervous system. I began to question my own value.

"Now and then I made myself stop drinking for three or four months at a time. Each time I started again, I drank just as heavily. Stopping didn't make me feel better about myself. There was no therapy going on to lift me out of where I was, or to teach me why I was there. When I would stop drinking, there was nothing to fill the void.

"I passed out twice in one day from mixing Valium and alcohol and was able to convince the doctor that I was suffering from hypertension. Addicts are clever at manipulation.

"I felt that my reputation was going downhill and that people were talking about me. Alcoholism can mimic a lot of the mental illnesses: paranoia, depression, suicidal ideation and schizophrenia.

"I became so depressed I didn't want to live. I wrote a suicide note and washed pills down with whiskey. I became violently ill and a friend found me vomiting. I told her I had too much to drink, but did not reveal that I had taken pills or written a note. I resigned from my job and went to Philadelphia in 1974 thinking I could change things. New doctors there continued to prescribe muscle relaxants and pain killers.

"I began voicing my suicidal desire. A psychologist treated me for depression and put me on Elavil, an antidepressant. The dosage had to be increased systematically because alcohol kept canceling the effects of Elavil. He did not know about, nor ever ask about, my consumption of drugs and alcohol.

"After every session with the psychologist, feeling hopeless, I'd buy a bottle and return to my room to drink myself to sleep.

"I moved through each day devoid of feeling. I thought he could fix my depression and that then the drinking would go away. The idea that my problems were a result of my drinking was a correspondence not yet in place in my mind. This correspondence is the key to every addict's recovery. But for most people, the alcohol and/or the drug becomes their best friend and supersedes family, friends and work. Addicts reach a point at which they believe they cannot function without their chemical.

"Two years later, I resigned the job in Philadelphia to take another job in Potsdam, New York. Potsdam is God's country with a beautiful river running through it. I thought I could recapture the good times I had in Ogdensburg ten years earlier.

"The next two years were the last two years of my drinking. They were the worst.

"In Potsdam I saw a counselor whose office was on the third floor of a mental health clinic. When I'd take the stairs, the second floor door would be open and I'd see a great big sign on the wall that said: 'Alcoholism Treatment'. I would stand on the landing and look at that sign and think, this is the floor I should be on. But I would go on to the third floor. I saw that sign once a week for a year, but our sessions focused on my relationships with family and friends. Because I was chemically dependent, I didn't have the clarity of mind or the insight to learn anything from these sessions. I was going nowhere.

"After a year I told my counselor she was doing nothing for me and that I wanted to leave. After asking a number of questions, she said, 'Did you have to drink to tell me this?' I said yes, and she offered to refer me to alcoholism treatment. I think I knew in the year I walked by the second floor sign that I needed treatment for alcoholism, but I was too scared. Alcohol brought me solace and I thought it enabled me to function.

"During the summer of 1978 I was confronted by the head administrator of our community. She watched me go from being a high achiever in 1968 to someone who could barely function in 1978. She told me that I was valuable to the community and that I needed treatment. "For the first time, I faced the reality of my problem. I wanted to get well, but I wanted to do it my way. I spent the next few months trying to avoid treatment. Friends convinced me I needed inpatient care. Not everyone needs inpatient care. I did. I needed the 28 days of education -- that is what treatment is, and I needed detox in order to rid my body of alcohol and prescription drugs.

"In treatment, I learned what alcoholism did to my spiritual, physical, emotional and mental life. Group therapy helped me quickly lose the shame of my drinking. I was eager to learn everything I could to help myself. Treatment also introduced me to Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). "A lot of wonderful things happened in treatment, the most important being that I woke up. I realized that I was an alcoholic and drug addict and that I could live without crutches and still be very happy.

"I realized that the times I stopped drinking and went back to it were mini-relapses. For a lot of people, relapse is part of the recovery process. What prevents the relapse is the reality of what is going to trigger it, and the commitment to not want to use because not using is a better way of living.

"My internship was at a hospital in Buffalo in 1980. In 1981, I began working for Alcohol and Drug Dependency Services, Inc. (ADDS). I worked as a counselor and in 1982 I acquired my credentialed alcoholism counselor (CAC) and went on to a supervisor of two halfway houses. In the spring of 1990, I became the director of the agency's program for youth.

"I believe that chemical dependency is a painful disease that afflicts, not only the person that has it, but all the significant others around that person. We must do a better job educating kids as soon as possible that there are ways to be happy, to get approval, to be appreciated, and to be successful, without using chemicals. We must not just tell kids why alcohol and drugs are bad, we must help kids find ways to achieve happiness through their own efforts, interests and talents.

"There is nothing shameful about chemical dependency. There is a lot of hope, and a lot of help for those who still suffer. But fear often keeps people from getting the help they need. Fear is often the result of a lack of knowledge and education. Fear is conquered by becoming aware and waking up."