A Second Chance (Alcoholism), 1998, Bob H.

From MemoryArchive

Who: Bob H
What: Recovery from Alcoholism
When: 1998
Where: USA

Hi, I am Bob, alcoholic and addict.

The day my new life began was Jan 1, 1998 at about 7 PM when I came out of a blackout to discover that 4 or 5 police cars were following me trying to get me to pull over. I was driving down the wrong side of a divided highway with no idea of how I got there, why I was there, or what day it was. The blackout had begun about 24 hours earlier. I do not have to feel that way ever again.

The next day I checked myself into an outpatient program and began going, once again, to AA meetings. With the help of my Higher Power, the fellowship of AA and very importantly the 12 Steps I have begun turning my life around. I am by no means finished. I am by no means cured. But the obsessions to drink, the cravings to drink, have been removed. Don't ask me if I believe in miracles!

I had begun my exploration with alcohol when I was around 14. The first time I drank I drank like a good alcoholic, to oblivion. A friend of mine and I stole a bottle of bourbon and the two of us finished it in about an hour. I woke up on the bathroom floor, my foot in the toilet and the evidence of my drinking all over the bathroom walls. I swore that would never happen again.

And it didn't. For years I was able to stop drinking just before I reached that point. I thought that meant that I had no problems, nothing to make me fear alcohol. Of course alcohol eventually was not enough and I began, slowly at first, to add other drugs to my experimentation. Alcohol always stayed my favorite tool to reach that state where I felt capable of doing anything, impressing anyone or conning anyone, but when alcohol was in short supply I did not hesitate to fill the void with drugs.

Were there consequences to my drinking and drugging? Not at first. At first it was only fun. It gave me the confidence I felt I needed to do what I wanted to do, be who I wanted to be. But slowly, as the years passed, things began to interfere with my ability to live life without complications. There was the time I was busted on Copacabana Beach in Brazil. I was in the merchant marines then, and the time away from home, the tons of money that they paid, opened the doors to my addictions wide. I managed to walk from that one, thanks to a fast-talking friend who was with me and who spoke passable Portuguese. There was the time I was robbed at gunpoint in Peru trying to score a kilo of cocaine. And even though shots were fired I escaped that unharmed, though several thousand dollars poorer.

These were just silly accidents though, right? They had nothing to do with the fact that I was starting to be either drunk or high every minute of every day. At least this was what I was telling myself. I convinced myself that they were just bad luck and that if I were more careful they would stop happening.

The years went by and I left the merchant marines and got a job at a hospital at home. I continued to drink daily, and found that drugs were abundant in the hospital. Street drugs, not the ones the hospital gave out. You could buy any drug any day merely by asking the right person at the hospital. I thought this was grand. After working there only a few months I met a nurse who also enjoyed her 'higher' moments and after a rational courtship of three weeks we were married. But I was in control, right? The fact that I said to myself on the way home from the ceremony "What have I done?" meant nothing. I was OK. I was in control. My drinking or drugging did not cloud my mind. The fairy tales we tell ourselves.

We had been married about 5 years, lasting that long because we were both medicated most of the time, when my drinking grew to enough of a problem that I was subjected to the thrill of an intervention. I walked into what I thought was a marriage counseling session to be confronted by my mother, my father, my brother, my sister, my wife, and a couple of my friends. To make a long story short, I was given the option of going to an inpatient rehab that night or being booted out of the lives of all there. I, with anger and fear, choose the trip to rehab.

28 days of education, detoxification and fellowship later I thought I had it all together. I had been taught what alcoholism was. I had come to believe that I probably was one. My mind had cleared enough that I was feeling pretty good. I was convinced that whatever problems I did have I now had the tools necessary to get past them. Alcohol was my problem, so if I stayed away from drinking, went to a few meetings, I would be fine.

All went well for several months. My life was better in most areas. My marriage was not doing as well; something about being sober removed the protective haze that allowed it to go on as if nothing was wrong. Slowly, as things improved, complacency set in. After around 9 months I somehow started to have the idea that since alcohol was my problem, an occasional joint would not be so bad. And at first, briefly, it wasn't. Of course I found it hard to go to meetings high so the number of meetings I went to quickly dropped off until I was only going maybe once a week or so. And of course, at no time did I work any steps.

I had asked a man to be my sponsor. A man who I listened to at meetings who seemed to have a good grasp of the program and who I enjoyed listening to as he explained his view of the program of AA. He invited me over to his house for dinner the night I asked him to be my sponsor and to talk about how we were going to approach my program, but once there all he did was spend a couple hours explaining to me what was wrong with all the other people in the program. I discovered he was good at taking other people's inventory. I felt something was wrong with this, but was not connected to the program enough to know that I should fire him as a sponsor and find someone else. Instead I just backed away a bit and figured that I could do better on my own.

This led to my going to even fewer meetings and as was bound to happen, it was not long before I had my first drink. I do not remember exactly how or why I drank, but it was not long until I was back to where I had been, drinking daily and pretty much around the clock. Shortly after this my marriage finished it's slide and we got divorced. I was now alone, which to me had the benefit of allowing my drinking to go on unencumbered by the worry of what someone else was thinking. It continued to get worse as I then began to isolate completely. I found it was more comfortable to drink alone, at home, without thinking about what others might be thinking about how much I drank. I was drinking at this point about a quart of vodka a day, give or take, starting when I woke in the morning and continuing until I passed out at night. My biggest worry was making sure I had enough alcohol to get me through the night and last until I could get to a liquor store the next day.

Somehow during this time I was able to keep my job, which allowed me to tell myself that I was not that bad off. I knew then that I was without question an alcoholic. I even knew that drugs were also a problem for me, but I could not see a way to stop either. I began to imagine how things would turn out for me. I saw that if I continued as I was going I would eventually die from the complications of alcoholism. I could not see a way to stop; I could not see how I could face life without drinking, so I began to look forward to that end. I looked forward to the permanent oblivion that death would bring me. I thought about going back to AA because I had learned enough in rehab and during the few months of meetings to know that it had helped others, but I could not bring myself to walk back into a meeting. I was filled with shame and thought that others in AA would look down on me for my failure to get the program my first time around.

My life began to spiral even more out of control. I stopped paying taxes. I stopped paying bills. I stopped doing anything that 'normal' people do. I found it easier to avoid things altogether than to face them. I isolated more and more, spending every minute I was not at work at home, alone, drinking and or drugging. Somehow, 12 years went by. Things in my mind got so bad I began to have dreams about getting a DWI. These were not bad dreams, rather good dreams knowing as I did that if I got a DWI I would be forced to face my problems. I somehow knew that it would force me to take the steps necessary to at least try and get my life back together. As fate, luck, karma, or as I now believe the Grace of my Higher Power would have it, it was not long after this that I did in fact get my DWI. And this is where I was when as I said at the beginning I awoke out of a blackout surrounded by police cars driving down the wrong side of a divided highway.

Having checked myself into an outpatient treatment program I also made myself walk back into the rooms of AA. Much to my surprise I did not receive the condemnation I had expected all those years, but rather was welcomed with open arms. People laughed when I explained how frightened I had been about coming back into the program, not from some position of superiority but with the understanding of people who had felt the same thing, experienced the same fear, shared the same pain. They made me feel welcome and though at first I was content to sit in the back and just listen, it was not long before they drew me more and more into the fellowship. I got a service position, making coffee at a Sunday morning breakfast meeting. I eventually chaired a Big Book meeting. I got to know others in the program and they got to know me. My life started, slowly at first, to get better. For the first time in a very long time I felt hope. I felt that if I did what they had done, did what they told me to do; I too could enjoy the miracle of recovery.

For almost three years I stayed sober by going to meetings, and being involved in my home group and in the fellowship of AA. I did not work the steps however and that 'Happy, Joyous and Free' that recovered people talk about somehow eluded me. My life was much better. My life was much easier. I even started to allow people back into my life, including a woman who though not an alcoholic, somehow was open enough to learn about recovery and to support me in my need to go to meetings and be involved in AA. But as some of the ghosts of my past came up and reared their ugly head, I knew I had to take the final step and actually begin to work the program of AA. It became clear that I needed to work the 12 Steps.

I asked a man who always talked program over fellowship to help me and he did. He gave me worksheets, he gave me tapes to listen to, he gave me things to read, and with his help, and a new commitment to do what I needed to do, I was able to work my way through the 12 Steps. And not so much to my surprise as to my relief, I found that indeed the promises that AA gives to those who work the program were real. My life got even better. My life got simpler. I began to understand what 'Happy, Joyous and Free' really meant. Serenity was no longer just a concept but a growing part of my life.

Is life perfect? No. Is life easier, simpler, and calmer? Without question! Life still throws curves at me, but using the tools that working the Steps has taught me I am able to deal with it, sometimes better than others, but always better than the total retreat from life I took when actively in my addiction.

I could not have imagined the wonderful things life had in store for me when I first got sober. Forget about the things I hoped would happen, like no hangovers, not being arrested, remembering the night before, worry if I had enough alcohol to get me through to the next day. All that was immediate. All that was expected. What I could not believe was how much better every aspect of my life would become once I worked the Steps. I am in a relationship that I could only have dreamed of (we were married three months after my four year anniversary). I no longer worry about work, or if I have enough leave to cover those days I could just not make it in. I no longer feel that terrible depression that had invaded every aspect of my being. And perhaps most important, I now feel a part of, rather than an outsider. There is hope for anyone who is willing to do what it takes. Go to meetings, get a sponsor, work the Steps and find a Higher Power that works for you. If you want it, you can have if; and then to keep it, you must give it away.

Thanks for letting me share

Republished with permission from Serendity Found, where you will find more information on recovery.