Are Addiction Secrets Holding You Back?

We all have secrets. Mine were spread out to multiple cities. In between multiple divorces, drugs were delivered to my hotel room in Vegas. Coke deals transacted with quick hand-to-hand exchanges under cover of darkness just feet from the calming waves of the ocean at South Beach. 

I’m often asked, “How did your wives not know you were blowing and going?” That seems like a tough one to hide. The answer is simple. I had a J.D. in law but a Ph.D. in deceit and deflection. Other times, the circumstances helped.

I met my second wife at a bar in Dallas (Stan’s Blue Note). She was a nursing student at Texas Tech. I was deep into my cocaine addiction and party lifestyle. She didn’t use it and knew nothing about it. The distance made it easy to hide the behavior. 

She ultimately moved to Dallas, where we married. She worked overnight weekend shifts as a newly hired neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) nurse. My wife is working hard, saving the lives of newborn children, and I’m working hard at destroying my life and eventually our life together. The arrangement is great for my dysfunctional thinking: I can party with my friend and be in bed when my wife gets home. 

This particular night at my friend’s house is a rager — two eight balls of cocaine for three people. Morning comes with the nauseating sounds of birds, letting me know to get my ass home before her shift ends.

I toss my clothes in the washing machine and hop into the shower. I’m an expert at destroying all evidence of my other life, and the hot water washes away some of my guilt. 

Suddenly, the shower goes dark. I can’t see! My heart rate triples. It won’t go down. I’m having a reaction to the cocaine. I drop to one knee in the shower. Am I having a heart attack? Sheer panic and fear. Deep breathing. No help. I call my brother Jeff. He tells me to bite the bullet and call 911. If I do that, I’m discovered. My marriage is over. There has to be another way. 

I run to the liquor cabinet, chug a leftover bottle of Cristal champagne from our wedding, and pray that the depressing effect calms my heart. No change. My life is over, either by death or divorce. 

I pick up the phone to call 911. A feeling of faintness washes over me. It’s the light-headedness of a sudden change in my heartbeat. It’s back to normal. Falling back on the bed, I start crying. Not tears of guilt or self-awareness — tears of relief that I won’t be caught today. Back in the shower, I toss the champagne bottle. I’ll tell the wife it broke. Throw back some mouthwash and rehearse my story of what I did the night before. 

Within a year, we divorced. The marriage couldn’t withstand the secrets. Along with my career, my personal relationships followed the same cycle. Every crisis, whether divorce, loss of my legal career, or some other humiliation, inspired a short period of sobriety only until I felt I had my life back again, or so I thought. Ready for more secrets. 

Brian Cuban is an attorney, author, and advocate for mental health awareness and recovery.   He has spoken at law firms, conferences, non-profit events, colleges, and universities across the United States and Canada. He also writes extensively on these subjects. His books, columns, and quotes have appeared on CNN.com, Foxnews.com, The Huffington Post, The New York Times, and online and print newspapers worldwide.

He is also the author of the best-selling book The Addicted Lawyer, Tales of The Bar, Booze Blow & Redemption. His debut novel, The Ambulance Chaser, was released as the #1-selling debut paperback thriller. His follow-up crime thriller, The Body Brokers is now available wherever books are sold and at www.briancuban.com.

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