Warning:
This story contains some harsh language
viewer discretion is advised.
One Man's Battle For Sobriety.
Introduction:
It's mid October 2005 and I'm sitting in a motel room in Fenton Missouri
writing this down to see if I can figure out what happened in my life for me
to be living a quarter of a mile from my wife and family. I have had a
million thoughts going through my head during these past few weeks and
decided to try to get it down on paper so as to do a little therapy for
myself. I have never really taken the time out to look at my life in a
concise timeline to try to determine just what went
wrong with my life and how I ended up at this place. This will be posted on
a website and added to as I remember more information. I hope someone reads
this be it a newcomer or an older member who is getting complacent in his
program. If this helps them to stay in the program and not to go back out
and suffer another fall into a deeper pit then that will be reward enough.
Round 1
My story starts on the 26th of November 1954. This is the date I was born in
the City of St. Louis to Jack and Bernice. In this family was my brother
Mark 3 years older and my brother Doug , who was 6 years older. What I can
remember of my early childhood is that is was pretty typical of other baby
boomers at that time. Our neighborhood was pretty normal. A lot of kids to
play with. Good times as I remember. My home life was pretty typical also.
My parents were like everybody else's. There wasn't a lot of physical love
at home but we new we were loved. I really looked up to my brother's. They
had a lot of friends and were really liked. I wanted to be like them. Like a
lot of alcoholics I didn't come from an alcoholic home. Sure my parents
drank, but not often. My dad might have a beer when he came home from work
or when they had friends over they would drink strange things with names
like Highball's or some guy named Tom Collin's. It was all pretty normal.
The first time I knew life was going to change
forever was on May 5th 1966. I was at home and it was about 6:00pm when the
phone rang. It was St. Louis County hospital calling. They said my brother
Doug had been in an accident and could my parents come right over. The
hospital was about 15 minutes away and when we got there I remember a Doctor
in a white coat tell my parent "let's talk in here" . He went with them into
a small room with a frosted glass window. I remained outside. I could see
their silhouettes in the glass and I remember
seeing the doctor talking with his hands and then saw my mother through the
window grab my father and scream. Though I was only 9 at the time in that
instant I new my brother Doug was no longer with us. He was dead. I remember
crying uncontrollably at the funeral. And at just at 9years old I new what
this meant. Doug wasn't coming back, ever. I was told that the reason he
died was that God needed him in heaven. I mean what the
fuck. Doesn't he have enough angels up there to take care of his
business. He has to come down here and punch my brothers ticket for the
heaven express to fill his positions . He was on a Honda S90 motorcycle with
a girlfriend on the back. A driver in a car made a left turn right into him.
His ribs punctured his heart and he died instantly. The girl suffered
massive injuries and it was a least a year until she was walking again.
Round 2
Life at home was never the same after Doug's death. When Doug died we all
lost a piece of our souls.
Mark was at Military school at the time of Doug's death. He was always
kind of wild, getting into trouble with his friends. I guess my parents
thought Military school would give him some discipline and structure. He was
the middle child after all. If he was affected by Doug's death he didn't
show it. I can remember it seemed like years before my mother got off of the
couch and out of her nightgown. My father seemed to be just going through
the motions. I was young and probably bounced back the best. Just kept on
going.
My first time getting drunk was in Junior High School. There was a
Saturday night party at a girls house whose parents were out of town (this
is so common among kids). We had a friend who new a guy who buys
liquor. So we ordered a bottle of Vodka and a bottle of Gin. I didn't know
what any of it was. We poured the hootch into soda and drank. It wasn't to
bad at first but being the first time it didn't take long to find out I was
way over my limit. I remember stumbling about 9 blocks to my home, walking
inside (my parents were both up) saying I feel sick and projecting a stream
of Vodka, Gin, and soda across the living room.
I was grounded for a week and didn't drink for years after that. Once
Mark got out of Military school he came home and proceeded to start getting
high. After all it was the late sixties. The time of Sex, Drugs, and Rock &
Roll. Mark got into trouble again with the law for stealing cars and
joyriding. He had the choice of jail or joining the service. It was the time
of the Vietnam war and the service was hard up for recruits. Mark joined the
Marines and was in there in for about a year before he got a medical
discharge. I to this day don't know why. After his discharge he came back
home and started getting high again. It was Mark who turned me on to smoking
pot. The first time I got high I knew my place in life. I wanted to be a
Substance Abuser when I grew up. Getting high was a great feeling. I could
escape my mind. I could start destroying my mind.
Round 3
I started getting high more often. Just smoking reefer. I still didn't want
to drink or do other harder drugs, not yet. I escalated to more drugs during
high school. I started doing LSD and other mind altering chemicals. This
went on until the time I graduated. After high school it seemed that I
settled down a little bit. There were no more chemicals. I had started to
drink more but never to the point of excess. I was still smoking dope also.
At this time I was worried about my brother Mark. He was into real heavy
drug use. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear for several days getting
stoned. I was relieved when he would come back home alive. I had lost one
brother I didn't want to lose another. I was still getting high when my
brother had a fucking holy'er than thou fucking sky opening up God talking
religious experience. I couldn't fucking believe it. What
the fuck was this world coming too. One day were getting high and the
next he's telling me my stoned ass is going to burn in a lake of fire. Back
the fuck up a moment. This shit was a little heavy.
After his Jesus fucking freak experience and telling everybody they were
going to Hell he started to mellow a little. He started a church called the
House of the Risen Son. He would preach to other folks who were not accepted
at the more established House's of God. Mostly young people who had problems
with drugs or drink. If this got them straight. More power to um. Now you
have to understand I was raised in a religious environment and had my own
concept of my God. He wasn't a God to be feared but an understanding and
forgiving God. I always new he was with me but I wasn't always with him.
At this time I was in a fucked up relationship with the sister of a
friend of mine. Our relationship was only as good as our connection. When we
had plenty of smoke everything was fine, but when our connection dried up it
was a volatile relationship. I knew in my heart I wouldn't spent the rest of
my life with her. In fact I wouldn't let her raise my dog. It was a
relationship of insanity that lasted 9 years. It was ok because I had built
up my walls to protect me from emotional bonds. That way if I lost someone
the hurt wouldn't be as bad. While Mark was into the church he had gotten
married and his wife was pregnant.
Then on a Saturday night the second mindfuck of my life happened. His
wife called and told me Mark was in the hospital. He had, had an accident on
a motorcycle, a Honda. He had lost control on a road out in the country that
had some loose gravel on it. He was wearing a helmet but the sissy bar on
the bike rode right up under the back of the helmet and crushed the base of
his brain. He laid in a coma for 9 days before succumbing to his injuries.
Well let me tell you. I was fucking pissed at that at that Son Of Bitch
God. How dare that motherfucker take my other brothers life. After he came
out of the crap and turned his life over to God's work, this is how your
repaid. Fuck that shit. He died before he could ever see his son. That's
Bullshit. I went to my High school and stood in the middle of the football
field and I screamed at God. Why take him who had done so much good. Why not
take me a drunk and a druggie. That bullshit about about God needing him in
heaven was just that Bullshit. People fuck up and that's that. That was the
end of my relationship with asswipe God for sometime. I really went into
drinking at this time. Couldn't go to God could I? I kind of burned that
bridge before. I needed something to numb my system. I wasn't having major
problems with my drinking yet but they were sure to follow.
Round 4
I was working at a major hospital in St. Louis at this time. To get to work
I would have to drive through a large park and with my continued drinking
there were plenty of mornings where I would pull over to puke into a
trashcan and swear I wouldn't do this anymore. But by noon after lunch I was
feeling ok so I would think, Why not go back out tonight. Insanity. I was
living in a insane world but couldn't see it. My life had not reached the
bottom it needed too. While at the hospital I saw a lady get off an elevator
and walk down the hall. There was a feeling that came over me I can't
explain to this day. It wasn't lust. It was like I had just seen the person
I was to spent the rest of my life with. My soulmate. There was one small
problem. She was married. I asked about her and was told that she was
married to a physician and that I'd better stop
looking because she was way out of my league. When she showed up pregnant I
felt like somebody had stabbed me with a knife. We exchanged small talk and
that was great. When I found out she had given birth to a girl I bought a
card and had a friend fill it out ( so it would be intelligible ) and mailed
it. It was really weird. She called me at home one day as I was preparing to
leave for Mexico. She wanted to know who I was. I guess I made a real good
impression. At least she remembered me and thanked me for the card and made
sure since I only addressed the card to her that there was someone else
involved. Great.
Once I returned from Mexico and she came back to work we starting talking
about different things and I found out that she was getting a divorce. What
kind of man would marry a beautiful women and divorce her right after the
birth of there child. I had insanity issues but come fucking on. We ended up
dating and I ended my 9 years of insanity to the girl I had been living
with. I fell in love with this lady. She was the best thing to happen to me
in my life. The only problem was I was still drinking. All the time. No
DUI's or blackouts but a lot of alcohol intake. I wanted to spend the rest
of my life with this lady and she knocked the shit of me by telling me to
get lost and not complicate her life. But that is just what I was doing by
my drinking. She referred me to a friend of hers who was a Psychologist . He
asked me if I had ever heard of AA (Alcoholics Anonymous). I said sure
that's for drunks and I'm not a drunk. I just drink a lot. But I thought I
would check it out anyway. What could it hurt?
Round 5
The first time anyone walks through the doors of AA and they think they
might have a problem it's a fucking terrifying experience. You think you're
the only one who's fucked up. You see all these people laughing and smiling
patting each other on the backs shaking hands, giving hugs. I wonder to
myself what the fuck is wrong with this picture. I'm about ready to burst
into tears. I have just lost the greatest thing I ever had in life and you
people are fucking acting like your at the Funny Bone Comedy Club. I can
tell your problems aren't as bad as mine. I'm fucked up. I went to AA
meetings got a sponsor worked my program and didn't drink . I ran into my
love several times after I had cleaned up and was sober. She saw the change
in me and we rekindled our relationship. Once her divorce was final and we
had dated awhile I proposed to her on a horse
drawn carriage through the streets of St. Louis. It was a scene out of a
movie. She said yes and I was the happiest man in the world.
We were married and lived in a small house in a part of St. Louis
called the Hill. We had two more beautiful children a girl and a boy. We
were good parents and I really loved my family. We decided we needed a
larger home to bring up our kids in. We moved out to the suburbs to the city
of Fenton. Our new home was beautiful. Life was good..
Round 6
After moving out to Fenton I became complacent in my program. This is deadly
but at the time I didn't notice. We had a Christmas party and everyone was
drinking and having a good time. I thought that maybe I could drink like a
normal person. This is the insanity of an alcoholic. We can never drink but
our insane minds tell us we can. This is a very hard concept to grasp if you
are not afflicted with this disease. Our minds convince us that we can take
that first drink. After the first drink the body kicks in with a compulsion
like a allergic reaction that just to be scratched. The only way to scratch
that itch is to drink, drink, and drink more So I started to drink again.
Just moderately at first.
My disease was waiting for me. It had me right where it wanted me. It let
me drink moderately until it knew I was past the point of no return, Then it
was full speed ahead. I knew I was in trouble but there was nothing I could
do about it. Its that bottom thing again. My
disease wants me to die. It wants to take everything good I have in life and
destroy it. It's really
happy that way. My beautiful wife gave me plenty of chances but my disease
wouldn't let me quit. I went back into the program but had trouble with
being honest with myself. I was in the grasp of insanity and couldn't stop
it. My family was suffering as a result of my drinking. I was blacking out
not knowing how I got to bed or what I did the night before.
Things came to a head several weeks ago when my wife told she wanted a
separation. This is the bottom I had hit. This was my eye opener. After 17
years of marriage I wasn't with my family anymore. This I couldn't take. I
went back to the program with a renewed vigor. I confessed to my friends at
the tables how I had relapsed. I had always heard around the tables that
when you relapse your bottom gets deeper and deeper. I now know this to be
true I am living proof that alcohol will destroy everything you have. I took
a big step and gathered my family up and explained to them that I have a
disease a fatal disease if not treated. I also explained what the treatment
consists of and that I was already receiving it.
Round 7
Since getting back into the program I have learned more in these weeks than
I ever knew before. I have come to see that when I was in the program the
first time I was not completely honest with myself. The program worked but I
didn't get all the benefits from it. Which teaches us not just to live sober
but how to live sober. I now know that I am an alcoholic and that I cannot
drink or my life will turn into an insane mess. This is the first step the
big one. To get honest with yourself and admit you have a problem. That
opens the door to a better life.
Epilog
I am still living in the motel room. I am going to meetings everyday. I talk
to my wife and kids. I'm working my program. I hope one day I will be
invited back into my home. I feel I can still be a good husband and father.
I also realize that I must work this program everyday for it to be
effective. What really makes it so hard is knowing my wife is carrying on an
adulteress affair. This is the part that is the most difficult to take. It
is gut wrenching to have to go through this and I sometimes wonder if I will
be able to hang on.
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If I get through this
impasse in my life I feel that I will be able to handle anything life throughs
at me . And handle it sober. I also have questions that will never be
answered. Was I predestined to become an alcoholic? Was it the trauma I had
gone through? Was it a bit of both? I honestly don't know. All I know is
that I am an alcoholic and I suffer from the disease of alcoholism. I have
also revived my relationship with my higher power who is the God that was
always with me. I sit on the edge of the bed every morning. Bough my head,
fold my hands and pray out loud to my God to help me make it through the
day.
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