|
Alcohol Recovery is a life long process that can lead us on a road that we
could not think about in our wildest dreams. The following story
is about a Recovering
Alcoholic and a diary of the trials and
tribulations of recovery. The most important thing to remember is
that AA works for alcoholics. And we must never forget to continue
to strive for progress and not perfection. Recovery works, we just
need to be honest and work it to see the miracles in our lives.
This is a long story encompassing the life of an alcoholic over a
one year period. This story is well worth reading, she saved her
life with the 12 step program, and you can too.
Nick M.
Sarah's Struggle and Survival
October 3rd 2003
Friday, I love Fridays. Life is great for me at the moment, I have
a house which I love, a job that both satisfies and motivates me,
no financial worries. My boss gave me a great compliment today.
I am a grown up and I am going places. I shall celebrate in style
this weekend, it’s my father’s birthday tomorrow, so I will be up
for a drink with him naturally, Ok, let’s start, first stop the
“off-license”.
October 8th
12.00 PM
I strutted into my boss’s office with my father. She had phoned
me at 11.11 requesting me to phone her back, when I did at 11.20
she strangely requested that I attend her office with a friend or
relative. I remember thinking WHY, the paranoia set in, my mind
was melting with fear and I had no answers.
“Sarah sorry but I have no option but to suspend you”.
Hang on this was the woman who I admired, the one who I
wanted to be like, how can she suspend me? I looked around the
room in shock horror “on what grounds”? She muttered
something about irrational behaviour and query alcohol misuse. Now
who’s irrational? What game is she playing? I must be dreaming!
We then left and I was told not to contact anyone from the
hospital, a confidential investigation would be commenced with
immediate effect. It is wise to note at this time that my job was
my first love in my life, or so I thought!
13.00 A bottle of Vodka please. And so it went. BLACKOUT! AGAIN!
October 11th
A brown envelope from the hospital, I started reading, I
held the letter my head shaking boiling with anger and the surreal
feeling that this cannot be happening, what’s going on? I deserve
a drink, yes that’s what I’ll do. I must go.
Ah, my head hurts, I got up from my bed, I must have fallen
asleep, after all I was tired earlier on and I deserved a good
sleep after the week that I had endured, funny thing I was not in
my bedroom, this is strange there’s bars in this room, STEEL bars,
I’m in a police cell. The realisation set in, I had set off to
drink in town and vaguely remember going back to my car to phone
for a friend to pick me up, that was the last thing I remember. I
need to get out of here and back to my vodka, where did I leave it
now? What time is it? The Spar closes at 23.00. No watch, no
rings. What’s going on?
October 21st
What a Bizarre day. My first Alcoholics Anonymous (AA)
meeting. I had no desire to be there whatsoever but the family
had me well and truly trapped, Brad (my brother) had picked me up
from a friend ‘s house two days before. He spoke during the car
trip back to his house, which I had left only four months ago.
This was the family house where I had lived since I was ten with
my mother, father and younger brother. It had taken twenty years
to go full circle, my mother had moved in to live with her
boyfriend in 2000, Brad had moved in with his girlfriend Charlotte
in 2001 leaving myself and my father. However, in the past four
months I had bought a house closer to my work, my father had moved
in full time with his girlfriend and then Brad and Charlotte
bought the house off my mother. Perfect set up. Now I could live
my life, my own house, a job that I loved, each to their own,
something is still missing though.
He said:
“ Sis this is how it is, I love you, I am going to save your
life, look after you and I promise you that all your stress will
be taken away from you, all you have to do is come and stay with
me and Charlotte and we will get through this”.
My brother who had taken a week off work to save my life. Oh I
had forgotten to mention that in that week there was a brief visit
to casualty, thankfully not at the hospital where I worked with a
neck and head injury – they said I was lucky, something up with my
spine, could have been a close one. My body was covered in
bruises and a huge lump invaded the back of my neck, what a
state. Brad had carefully planned all my agenda, G.
P. appointments, Occupational Health appointments, the list went
on and on. Food and sleep were also on the agenda, these had
become alien to me, in fact I viewed them as punishment, what was
the point, a life without alcohol was no life at all.
I was now reduced to a four year old who did not want to start the
course of their life of going to school. I was un-teachable.
I had all the academic qualifications that I needed, so what’s the
fuss?
“You are going to AA tonight that will be your youth club now”. He
chuckled.
If the world owed me a favour then it was now, how dare he speak
to me like that, my younger brother, there was once upon a time
when I would have decked him for that, he’s lucky that he’s bigger
and stronger than me now. I had no idea what an
A.
A. meeting was like, I told him I would only go once, I was
thinking that if I went then maybe I could get out of all the
trouble that I was in and yes, it would all die down, in future I
just needed to be a little more careful where I drank and with
whom I drank with, next time would be different!
I remember very little from that meeting but I knew one thing – I
felt like I wanted to go again, just to see. Maybe I could go
without any alcohol in my system next time. I went to bed that
night and slept like a baby.
October 24th
Another appointment with the world that is trying to stop me
drinking. This time on a one-to-one with a local counsellor for
alcohol abuse. Another one of Brad’s bright ideas! 10 out of 10
for his pertinacity I shall say. Is my life over? Is this all
there is? Today my body feels like normal, my head is not
shaking, I can concentrate, in fact I think that I am listening
too, a quick test revealed that I scored 14 out of 20 for the alci
test, me an alci? We’ll see about that.
Right now all I need is to get back to work and put this
embarrassing incident behind me – move on and let everyone forget
about it. Another A.
A. meeting, this time in my hometown where I grew up! Phew no-one
there I know. Good job its dark outside.
October 25th
Strangely enough Brad and I are getting on great. He is
going back to work today. 08.30 hrs he brings me in cup of tea
like he has done over the past week, “there’s fresh bread make
yourself some breakfast later on ok?
I’m watching him downstairs, he is doing his exercises on a floor
mat, moving agile to the beat of some Royksopp CD of his. I look
at his strong lean physique, which he has always been blessed with
throughout his life, indeed all his physical energy had been
formed, toned and maintained through his love and talent of
surfing. What I see before me now is a picture of perfection. I
hear his strong words and his un-conventional complacency and self
assurance towards life. Surfing had moulded him into a fine,
responsible, caring young man with such a strong compassion for
nature, health and well-being. I was smiling inside.
“Can I play you one of my new CD’s”?
“Put
it on sis” What is it?
I started playing the new Stereophonics CD, “Maybe Tomorrow” the
album “You gotta go there to come back”. I had bought it about a
month ago and used to play it repeatedly when I was driving from
hospital to hospital in work. It never occurred to me that I had
an addiction to the song, one time playing it on repeat all the
way from my house to my mothers for about an hour non-stop. I
loved getting lost in the song, feeling safe and untouchable, I
used to crave for the song. When I was listening to it I was
thinking of the beginning of it again trying to absorb myself into
a feeling that was euphoric, no one or nothing else could come in
to my bubble.
“What do you think of the title of the song Brad”?
“I don’t know Sis,
I’ve never been there like you”. Quite!
I resumed my old hobbies that day celebrating my renewed physical
restoration. I and the Stereo phonics went swimming. Yes “Maybe
Tomorrow”?
As I remember, music was always my mood lifter, my teenage years
were spent thrashing around on my drums in and out of bands along
with the aggression and attitude of rock music expressed by
playing the guitar. Music was my life, it filled me with promise
and a sense of identity. I could not function effectively without
music on. Prior to the driving license days at 17, I would go long
distance cycling with the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac, suddenly
abruptly having to stop peddling when the batteries of my walkman
weakened. No batteries – no power. The day I left school I cried
walking out of the back path listening to “Straight Back” by
Fleetwood Mac, them in my eyes being the epitome of adult rock
filling a room with that distinct clarity FM as it should be. I
still play that song now and suddenly I am back on that path
looking fervently at the old school building which took me from
lessons and from a human who taught me. I already missed him
before I got to the gate, fearing that I may never see him again.
To this day I still think of him and wonder how he is? Do some
people ever leave you mentally? My first record player which my
mother bought for me on my 12th birthday churned out “thinking of
you” by Sister Sledge. I stumbled across the track whilst
listening to “Now that’s what they call music 3”. If you have
ever listened to the words in that song well I could have written
them for him, every time I still hear that song I can be there
fantasising.
Big things first crushes, that was 1984.
Music took me places. It still does. I passed my G.C.S.E.’s with
the thanks to “Circle in the Sand” (Belinda Carlisle) and “Broken
Land” by the Adventurers. Last week, I couldn’t walk properly,
hangovers are one thing – an acute withdrawal is something else.
Unless experienced, the most vivid of imaginations and the most
yearning of understanding minds are lost at this point. In other
words I would not wish a withdrawal on my worst enemies for long
term – however a five minute insight would benefit some!
Whilst we are on the subject of alcohol withdrawal, last week Brad
in his wisdom decided that a little drive around town would be in
order. On the radio there was a song playing, one that caught my
attention enough for me to ask who was singing it.
“It’s Darkness” it’s their new song” he replied with a huge
grin. “Do you like it”?
“Yes”
“Come on then you could do with a treat – get in there and buy
it. He had stopped his car outside Woolworth’s.
“No I’ll get it again”
“No we’re here now – what’s the matter, do you need some money?”
It was 12.30 Pm; I looked across the Road at the store that seemed
to look 10 times the size it normally did. The road was busy,
there were people coming in and out of the store, just carrying on
with their daily lives. I was envious. I couldn’t make it, how
on earth could I walk up to the door, go in, pick up the CD, take
it to the counter, pay for it and walk out without collapsing?
“No it doesn’t matter”.
I was becoming defeated, my drive for the healthy obsession
(music) was losing against my other obsession (alcohol) which had
caused this acute state of physical dilapidation and mental
terror. I was reduced to a state of inner – turmoil which is
indescribable, longing to cross the road just to please Brad.
After all, he was really trying to understand, armed with the
knowledge and experience of my love for music, and disarmed with
any knowledge of Alcoholism.
I opened the car door, got out still hanging onto the roof, looked
around, and waited for the right time to dart across the road,
without any fear of getting run over. I made it, my head
challenged by gravity, my eyes clinched to the road unable to lift
my chin up for fear of unbalance, my trembling hand pushed the
door open and looked for the clearest route to the CD shelf. Now
I had started walking I could not stop, hopefully I would not bump
into anyone that I knew, as there would be no way that I could
raise my head and talk to them, I would collapse with my head on
fire should any eye contact have to be made. There it was – easy
I grabbed it and followed my physical momentum to the paying
counter, this was not going to be easy! My heart was racing, palms
sweating and there they were two people in front of me in the cue,
I can’t wait, I will fall down. I had a plan, I would put the CD
on the counter and make her ask for me to come and sign the slip,
that way I could still move around, fight against the time that
was ticking away before I might collapse into a heap on the
floor. I found that I could kneel down and pretend to be looking
at mobile phones, by this time was as if my eyes were rolling
around in my head, completely unconnected to my physical frame
dipped into a Volcano which was about to abrupt.
“Here’s you’re C.D.”
Another 10 beats faster, all I had to do was sign the slip and
escape out of
the store, to everyone else I had never had any visible tremors,
but put to the test under pressure, let’s just say I have never
signed any slip so fast in my life. Out of the shop I walked
carefully close to a stand should I anticipate a collapse coming
on, and then I had something to hold onto. Anyway I made it.
After some deliberation that day, I remembered an incident which
indeed became a pattern of avoidance. I briefly lived in
Australia in 2001 - 2002. I was staying in Melbourne with my
sister, she was working in the day and so I liked to walk her dog
around the park before she came back from work in the evening. My
jobs done so to speak. To get to the park, I had to cross a busy
six lane road with the TRAM line down the middle of it. It used
to petrify me and I learned very early on that it was much less
threatening and even enjoyable with a slurp of Vodka inside of me,
I then became patient, amenable and worthy. So you see, our fears
of something are a result of a previous incident which is
sub-consciously stored. The Woolworth’s incident was withdrawal
compounded with a learnt conditional response.
It was in Australia that alcohol became a big part of my life.
However, at that point it did not interfere with the work that I
had to do, my job or any activities. I never experienced a
withdrawal, or a blackout, although I drank in the way and day as
they did, it was only when I returned to the UK that I wanted to
drink in the day, and they did not. Daytime drinking in Oz only
disguised my rapidly developing sickness.
November 12th
Things have improved. I am attending A.
A. meetings with enthusiasm, realising that the people there are
just like me. So I am beginning to share, Ok I still haven’t heard
off work and how that will pan out, the police haven’t YET charged
me with the “Drunk in Charge”, but it’s only now that I am
realising how much deep trouble that I am in, and A.
A. is helping. Of course I am still staying in my hometown, close
to my family. The other day I drove up to my house and had a
moment. There is just no point in my being there, its function
was to support me whilst I am in work, just like an investment, I
feel like I have no home – no fixed abode. I am partly staying
with my mother, and I friend who I have met in the fellowship, why
are things taking so long to sort out?
As I was checking on my house, collecting mail etc, I decided to
hoover, fearing that this may be the one of the last times that I
had the opportunity to clean this house, as my job would go and
therefore I would have to sell the house. Things were so
confusing, but I knew one thing – AA had to be my priority, it was
my safe haven, it was like being a teenager again, meeting
energetic people who were not obsessing about their families or
children, driving around to different meetings we were locals in
every AA in the country, stopping at MacDonald’s drinking coffee,
listening to good music, yes just like I used to do when I was a
teenager, and none of them drank! There was laughter, there was
anger but there was yearning for honesty - you see, you can only
be honest if you now how to be honest. Sounds simple, it’s not, so
I don’t think about it. “Keep it simple” what does that mean?
All will be revealed I was told! Aha they know something, I am
attracted to whatever they have. The cotton wool will now be
transported from my ears to my mouth. I shall try! These were
real friends.
November 21st
This is a big day. I have an interview with work, in the
last five weeks I have been off, it has been so hard all the
wondering, the Why’s and wherefores, so maybe all will be
revealed. The funny thing is that I have slept so well, ever
since I joined AA I have slept in the nights just like normal
people, you may thing that this is menial, but to me, this is the
first time in my life that I have ever slept, I remember hating
having to go to bed as a child, and by the time I was a teenager,
if I couldn’t sleep well I would just grab my walkman and my
bicycle and just head off and cycle to see the city lights and
back. Drink though used to put me to sleep, the more the better.
Prior to this year I had always worked shifts so my sleep pattern
was never consistent, either 4 hours or 12, just got used to it.
What a gift now though, even, peaceful sleep, beds now were not
just used for crashing or having sex in. Another new lesson.
The “Just for today” card got me though the day. Yes I now was
faced with the knowledge of an abundance of disgusting things
which I had done in work which preceded the two days prior to
Wednesday suspension. My behaviour, the things that I said, I had
no recollection of what-so-ever, no I was in a blackout, we are
not meant to remember such insidious things. The problem is that
my behaviour had affected many people, and offended them. They
remember, what do they remember? How guilty can you get? And what
can I do about it? NOTHING, only accept it. “Give Time Time”. I
need AA tonight, and tomorrow night and then the next night. My
youth club!
December 10th
It’s so good, recovering through AA, I like to attend about
five meetings a week and I’m finding that we are travelling all
around to maximise the experience. I just love the feeling of
going into a meeting and seeing new faces and hearing new shares.
This summer I had pretty much stopped doing that, I was convinced
that I knew enough people and well they didn’t quite understand me
and were not on the same level as me. The last thing I needed was
to meet more. There is always something there to clinch, pearls
of wisdom. Christmas is just around the corner, one day at a time
I hope to be sober.
December 25th
Well we all know what day it is! I knew, I had worked myself
up for this. I woke up with fear, self pity and an embarrassing
outlook on the day. I was staying in my mother’s and it would be
there that I would be having dinner, them with their wine,
cocktails and me well, bread and water! “Flip the coin” I told
myself as I got out of bed in my self – pity mode. After opening
presents I escaped quietly out of the house and drove down my
friend’s house. We were going up the beach for the annual swim
event. It was at this point that I occurred to me that I was
sober, and had the freedom to be able to do this.
Previous Xmas’s I may have been working, if not drinking so I did
not have a close affiliation with alcohol and Xmas. That was a
bonus. The swim was enjoyable but I was still in the process of
distraction of my low mood. Quality time was spent with Simon, my
local tower of strength in AA, he was like minded to me in that
yes he had a past, and damn it he was looking at the future with
eagerness and enthusiasm, just as I was. We could make each other
laugh, both had sneaky ways with a rebellious streak, always
looking for the easy was out though. Touch was easy, completely
plutonic.
However, my persistent inner-fight stayed with me throughout the
morning, I was putting on that “I’m Ok Jack” face on but felt like
a raging lunatic inside, filled with a well of sadness. I left
Simon to go back to my mothers for dinner, and we recited the
“Serenity Prayer” together out loud to get us though the food
ritual in the respective style. As I was driving back which was
less than a mile away, I had this compulsion to NOT go back to my
mothers, the selfish, immature trait inside of me kept me driving
past my mothers house. I pulled over remembering the tool of
phoning someone, “Simon, I can’t do it” I could not face
going there for dinner. Both together we said the Serenity Prayer
again and he told me to phone him in an hour or two after dinner.
I decided to just pop in and see Anneka a friend of mine living
locally. I had known Anneka for the past 10 years and we had been
through quite a lot together, she was older than me, didn’t drink,
she was in the same profession as me too, my mother used to be her
boss so I would describe her as a close friend of the family too.
That summer her father had passed away, I went to his funeral, and
her mother was now living with her. Anneka opened the door to her
house with a knife in her hand, I just stared at her managing a
surprised smile and nod at the same time, pondering whether there
was something that I might had said or done to lovely Anneka
whilst in a blackout, not that I remember.
“Come in Sarah”
oh couldn’t have upset her then! My paranoia.
The knife was a result of her busying herself chopping carrots in
the kitchen for dinner. I had a lovely welcome, I heard myself
wishing them “Merry Xmas” I was told though to wish people in AA.
“Happy Xmas” we have finished with our merry mad days.
Anna and I sat around the big table in the dining room just off
the Kitchen. Anneka carried on chopping broccoli and partaking in
a three way conversation.
“Would you like a little Sherry Dear?
It was 2 PM, mm first time today that I have even been offered a
drink, thinking back I probably would have been pissed by
lunchtime in past years if not working. Last year I fell asleep
at the table, head butting my mother’s annual five o’ clock
feast. It was customary in my mothers that they start drinking at
10.30 in the morning, when they would have a morning party before
dinner. Granted they would be ‘tipsy’, I always seemed to get a
bit more than that. In fact I don’t think I have ever been tipsy
in my life, I was usually either sober or flying with the fairies
where alcohol was involved. Unquestionably either on it or off
it. This year was different. I lit a cigarette.
“I won’t thank you Anna, all the same”.
Anna started to cry, the tears were flowing down her cheeks as she
looked at where I was sitting around the table,
“I’ll put the kettle on Sar”. “Thanks Ann”
“He would have sat there” Oh I’m sorry Anna would you like me to
move?
“No dear, he would like to see you there smoking a fag in his
chair, you look Ok there, that’s what he would have done. He can
see us both now you know!
I was overwhelmed. There was I, this self pitying spoilt wretch of
a woman feeling sorry for myself just because I could not drink on
this day, just for this 24hrs. This poor lady, it was a new type
Xmas for her too, without her husband! and Anneka still upright
now peeling potatoes enduring her first Xmas without her Father.
I felt such a fraud!
I held her hand and she asked my why I would not have a drink, if
there was a time for honesty it was now, but still I did not want
to burden this elderly lady with recovery talk.
“I don’t drink anymore Anna”
“Oh too many Saturday nights out was it dear”?
“Yes something like that, it got my into trouble, it’s no good for
me”
“Mother Sarah goes to classes now so that she doesn’t drink”
Angela had taken a break, sat down, placed a cup of coffee in
front of me, before maybe wondering about the gravy.
“One day at a time, we talk about drinking but we don’t drink its
good therapy”.
Quite how the next thing happened I am not exactly sure, but all
of a sudden the three of us started to recite the “Serenity
Prayer” in synch with each other, that doesn’t even flow perfectly
in AA.
That warm smile again inside, fuelled by this lady smiling at me
whilst she was reciting the Prayer, Anneka forgot about the turkey
and for a moment there was a complete unity in 3 human minds and
souls. Anna got up from her chair, left the room for a minute,
came back with something in her hand, and placed this plaque in
front of me on the table.
“I want you to have this”
There it lay, a double glass A5 size colour printed beautiful
script of the “Serenity Prayer”. I must be dreaming again! On the
other side were the two palms before the cross.
“I can’t accept this”
“Yes you can”
Anneka had been watching this, my chin still dusting her floor.
“You have had that for a long time haven’t you mum?
“Yes and it’s time to give it away”
And so it went, I accepted it with awe, but before I left I
thanked Anneka, it was Anna though who showed me to the door. She
spoke quietly her full Italian accent filling my ears, and to this
day I will never forget her kind words, she felt that her husband
had controlled this entire enigma and it had helped her in ways
that she could not begin to describe. I promptly visited Simon in
his friend’s house, he was crying as I told him what had just
happened. Grown men do cry you know! That Xmas day was probably
the best Xmas day that I have ever had, blessed by a beautiful AA
meeting in the night where I freely expressed my gratitude. For
the first time in my life I noticed how innocence is so powerful.
January 1st
A sober New Year. Great day spent and a fantastic meeting
in the night. No resolutions, that was old behaviour. I never
ever meant any of the ones that I made in the past, they were just
conversation additives, because society suggests that we should
make them, I would break them from not making them. I have one
priority this year and I don’t have to remind myself on a piece of
paper of what it is.
One new years resolution that I did conjure up and adhere to
though was in 1994, I had finished my nurse training in 1993, and
decided to further my education that year by going back to
university, I called it a resolution, it was not though it was a
drive in my self exploration, I went to university that year
became addicted to reward through education, 4 universities later
I left in 2001 with about 17 letters after my name, so that’s when
I left school at the mature age of 29. I remember rushing back
home from work at 22.00 hrs to merrily tap away on the keyboard
whilst I was writing my MSc thesis, I loved it and I could hide
behind education, I was addicted to achieving and I found it all
so easy, and throughout all of that time too working full time and
partying, nothing was too much. That summer I got bored and
decided to do some more research on the other side of the world.
That’s when I went to Australia. I was oblivious but it was then
that my drinking days were then to become terminal.
I got hammered on my way to Australia. I was flying out with
British Airways. It was less than a month after the 911
disaster. I was a bit apprehensive of going on my own, but it was
just something that I had to do. I remember thinking ‘right this
is it, if I don’t like it, no dramas I can just have a holiday
there and come back’, quite rightly so. As I boarded the flight I
took my brothers advice and made sure that I went onto the plane
last, that way everyone else had assumed their seats, I walked
right to the back of the plane clocking all the empty seats and
sure enough there were four empty ones at the back just for me.
As I sat, the captain announced that due to tonight’s events (?
Pending war) we were going to take a different route due south
avoiding Iraq’s airspace. Great, well what will be will be. I
met a young man who seemed like minded, he was getting off in
Singapore, back to work, he was in the navy. We started talking
and drinking together, easy company another fellow traveller, but
B.A had this rule that only three alcoholic drinks could be served
per person, they were monitoring the passengers and didn’t want
any commotion or drunken distressed individuals.
I modified the rules to my liking right then, I had bought a
bottle of Smirnoff which I had in my hand luggage, and we got
stuck right into it. Next thing I knew we had gotten drunk,
fallen asleep like little angels and fourteen hours later touched
down in Changi airport. Harmless enough, I felt absolutely fine
at the airport, so I just carried on.
January 30th
This is my disciplinary hearing in work, I can do things on
my own now, so I drove there on my own. All I will say is that,
they have re-instated me purely because I outed myself with my
illness and what I had done to try and get well. However I do
remember, how calm I felt, nerves of steel and just an amazing
acceptance of what they had to say. It could have been far worse.
In fact I heard myself telling them
“I am not a bad person trying to be good – I am a sick person
trying to get well.”
Somebody commented on that afterwards in my hospital counselling
and even thanked me for sharing that aphorism with them, one to
remember. Oh yes I am full of them, I can churn them out by the
score. However it’s the application of them that reaps the rewards
and that is the hard part!
Throughout the disciplinary I reflected to them that I had
accepted that suspension was for me was probably the best thing to
ever happen to me. It had made me unravel so many things about
myself which I was completely oblivious to, these being issues
which I have since being able to have the
opportunity to try to amend in an honest and positive manner. I
apologised for my behaviour last year and that I never meant to
hurt or embarrass anyone, and I only humiliated myself. The most
frightening part of it was realising how very superficially I knew
myself. I was not making excuses for myself. Although
accountable at that time, I was not responsible. I could not
recollect many of the distressing incidents.
Concomitantly, I added that in retrospect I realised that they
were only trying to help me, but I didn’t know what was wrong with
me, or maybe not wanting to accept what was wrong, it could have
only happened in the way that it did, I could only learn the hard
way as only an alcoholic can. I could not willingly stop the
course my life was on. I needed harsh reality to see the damage
that acute alcohol abuse causes, in so many ways. I therefore,
had to be forced into acceptance and humility.
Therefore I look back at it as a very positive experience, albeit
one I never wish to endure again. Once more I can only say I was
not aware of my behaviour and how far from the pillars of sanity I
had veered. Anyone with any modicum of sanity would not have found
themselves in that situation to begin with. However, no one sets
out or gives their permission to have any such illness.
Releasing myself of those thoughts was an amazing feeling.
Although we become accustomed to sharing within the fellowship,
when the time is appropriate, and the venue is right the feeling
of honest humility is just as strong when we share outside of the
rooms.
March 20th
I am 32 today. I’m on my way to my first AA convention. I
have opted to drive on my own fearing that it may be one of the
last opportunities that I will be able to drive for a while, I
have always loved driving, again mood lifting, foot on the peddle,
music up and I’m off again. My father and I have always shared
that same feeling of freedom, music and the open road. By
seventeen I had passed my motorbike test too, so even more open
road to explore, my father was exactly the same, he had array of
biking history to his name, once biking is in your blood, that’s
it your hooked. I viewed it as progression, a reward of age,
cycling to motorcycling aching calves to wearing carburettors. To
this day my dad and I know exactly when we stumble across a new
song whether we will both like it. So many times I have heard a
song and thought, yes that scratches my itches this is one for
both of us. It works the same way around for him too. My father
and I could probably do “Desert Island Disks” and without knowing
come up with 50% of the same songs.
I am on in court again on Tuesday for my 8th court
appearance since they charged me on Dec 12th for the Car Park
palaver last October. Although I was arrested in October, I was
so intoxicated that they could not read me my rights or
breathalyse me, breathalyse me I was lucky to be able to expire,
let alone give my consent to avidly blow in the bag. Hence, they
had to take blood tests which took weeks to come back, I was 4.5
times the legal limit, they hadn’t seen one that high for decades,
ah but I wasn’t driving. All the Court adjournments, paperwork,
getting references off people it’s all very consuming, but
throughout the time I feel so grateful to all those who have
supported me unconditionally up until now. My alcohol counsellor,
AA, my ex-manager and so many more who have basically saved my
skin where it could have been that I made too much mess and
destruction to come back from.
Let me tell you about my 3rd Court appearance nearly
two months ago. I relapsed over it, I was not living life on
life’s terms, things were going great, but one essential element
was missing. A Sponsor. I had been drinking for a few days prior
getting sicker and sicker, I do not have to give a reason for my
drunk although I could probably give you a thousand excuses, the
reason that I drank was simply because I am an Alcoholic and had
lost my gratitude and focus on my recovery.
Day three of that bender I was due to appear in Court, oh I made
it to court that morning alright - shot up to my neck in Vodka,
my tolerance to alcohol was not as it used to be, I timed it
wrong, my craving was overridden suddenly by a blackout. Just
before I was due to be called in to court number 1, I fell to the
floor smashing my face on “The Magistrates Court” stinking floor
in my best cream suit after 2 hours of waiting outside. It was my
poor father that picked me up aided by the court medics and was
prompted to take me to hospital. The irony of it all is that
alcohol intoxication and head injuries often display similar
symptoms.
My father and I spent another 3 hours in casualty with a bleeding
face, and black eyes. Where was my acceptance of Step One? My
memory of that mystery tour lasted longer than my black eye. And
that’s just it, whenever I take I drink it would only ever be a
mystery tour, and not for the faint hearted.
I got myself a sponsor, I had to go back to the beginning and
start all over again, going through the process of the withdrawal
which I will say I was very fortunate that all it took was a
single day of dry heaves, headache and basically chaining myself
to the settee. I cannot beat the game, I had to accept that I had
an illness that could kill me and that it is more cunning,
baffling and powerful than I can possibly ever attempt to
imagine. It’s true what they say in that AA buggers up your
drinking, of course that’s the idea, it gives us a conscience and
a taste of how good life is without the poison, it’s such a lonely
planet when you have drunk friends away, go to AA, get better,
blessed with beautiful rewards, complacency kicks in becoming
egotistical and unfocussed resulting in - a - Relapse. Back to
where we started!
Accept it, take humble pie, admit we were wrong, get our
embarrassed shells back to the rooms, take the telling and along
the way getting down on our knees and praying to a power that is
stronger than ourselves. That is only the start! And any veering
from that fact is delusional and we may have delusions which we
have built up all our lives. These have to be smashed out of us,
because if we don’t sober up, we get covered up or even worse
locked up.
So after lengthy work with my sponsor, I accept that Tuesday will
be stressful, but it will not harm me, I am the only one that can
only harm myself, and I both know and feel right from wrong now.
I am Powerless over People, Places and Things. What will be will
be, I am not the centre of the Universe.
I have to say that it was the best birthday that I have ever had.
Although I didn’t think so on that particular day. Far from it!
I ruined my own day caught up in my own skin, draped with a false
belief that I couldn’t share what was going on in that muddled
head of mine. The convention was informative, I was not
listening, the people were friendly and approachable, I was aloof,
they were enjoying themselves in a grateful manner, I was surly.
My body language said it all, I was even aware of it, but I
couldn’t do anything about it. What’s the lesson? I don’t know, I
have to accept that there are times when there is just not going
to be fluency and harmony in my mind.
I am human and I react, I have reacted my entire life to whatever
was thrown at me, acting on instinct, look where it got me. In
fact I drove off in a huff back to my sponsor in her hometown
meeting and vomited my stress and emotions in a share in AA, Mm I
needed a meeting to get over the AA convention. That’s Ok, maybe
conventions are just not for everyone, I won’t be afraid of going
again in the future, just have to accept that it was not one of my
better days. So why was it then one of the best Birthdays that I
have ever had? Because my illness wanted me to embrace the top
shelf at the hotel bar convention and the Higher Power Greater
than Myself won, I was just the go-between. My first Birthday
since I was 18 talking about alcohol and not consuming it, Simple.
I hear people in AA talking about the first time that they
consumed alcohol, and I have no idea, I don’t recall the first
time that I tried the stuff. I know that it wasn’t until I was at
least seventeen, and then I was not that fussed on it, all my
friends were drinking but I remember not being able to cope with
the hangover’s. They would interfere with the next day, more to
the point I would be bed bound most of the following day. That
didn’t last long though, I must have told myself that I just
needed more practice, by the time I was nineteen hangovers were
successfully a thing of the past.
On my 18th birthday Philip a friend of mine blind
folded me and got me stinking drunk on Diamond White, he and bunch
of friends took me to a pub and he was the stripper gram. Ever
since that birthday, I usually managed to get myself mangled, of
course today being an acceptation.
March 24th
Oh dear, at least I was only in and out briefly. I am now
officially banned from driving, the sentence to be arranged in 3
weeks time. I actually thanked the Judge and walked out feeling a
sense of gratitude, he was very pleasant about it. No problem,
damaged licenses are returned – livers are not. That night my
friends took me to a meeting, they dropped me off at AA on their
way to NA. Geographical changes were due anyway, so it’s all in
the grand scheme of things and I know that it will work out for
the best. I am back to work next week, back in Intensive Care
where I worked for the past nine years prior to the Training job
that I had last year. I feel petrified about returning to work,
the building hasn’t changed, the people there are still the same,
the work will be no different so what’s the problem?
My fear of course, a lot has happened in the time that I have been
off, the changes in my lifestyle have been phenomenal, my last
working day there I was suspended and 2 days prior on a Monday I
went into work in a Study day in a blackout with no recollection
or knowledge of who I may have injured on that day. I have been
punished for that by the Trust, that was in the form of my
Disciplinary, these people were just doing their jobs, but to me
it was a life changing event, it had to be! This is where
gratitude can overcome fear, turn that fear into faith, or you
simply cannot live. My sponsor after listening to my hours of
describing my fears of returning to work, simply said “you have
not forgiven yourself yet” No I guess I haven’t, and I am not
quite sure that I know how to.
Lately I have been spending more time up my house in preparation
for resuming living there and going back to work. It’s easier
than I thought it would be, most things usually are. It’s the
mental projection that I was born with that thrusts me into
predicting outcomes of events that have not yet happened.
Inevitably then I will fear the worst and bang - the scene is
already set, my body has prematurely prepared itself nurturing a
developing response to the unknown. Continued that is how phobias
inaugurate, fed with negativity. Thankfully I now do not have any
phobia’s.
March 28
I am settling so well back into my house on my own I have decided
to enhance my life. I have always loved animals, there have even
been times in my life when I thought that I could communicate
better with animals than with humans. This is now know to be
true. ‘Muscle’ the family dog would not leave my side when I was
ill last year, she had her duties, and her duties were bound to me
in her eyes. When I was crashed she never left my side, whether I
was in bed or on my mothers settee she was there at my vigil.
When I was better, she and I would go for long walks in the park
or down the beach, and she knew that there was a chance that food
would be brought back into the equation, so there was always hope
in that dogs eyes.
Every summer since I was a small girl I used to go slip diving,
that is diving into the sea from the harbour wall, the bigger the
drop the better the thrill, practicing my pike dives with that
awesome feeling of freedom as I fly through the air. Most of the
kids I used to do this with stopped doing it and got on with other
things. No for me it carried through, I still go every year,
Muscle accompanied me and took to it like a duck to water, I took
her as a puppy under supervision of course and she has come ever
since with me. She is now 10 a super veteran of the animal
kingdom. Good family times were spent on that slipway, there
would be my mother or my father on the bottom slipway throwing
sticks for Muscle to swim and fetch and Brad and I would be right
up there ready for the off, stood side by side in our matching
wetsuits which he had made for us, perk of the job.
Back a good few years ago she would be waiting for us eagerly to
stagger home from the pub. I am sure that she could smell alcohol
on us, she loved the stuff just as I did in those days, we would
come home and raid the fridge if unfortunately we had missed the
Chinese or kebab house. Chicken was always a keen favourite for
her. She would be there wagging and dancing around playing games
for treats, she also knew that it was worthwhile staying close to
the fridge door as many a piece of pie or biscuit has been dropped
by people who had that funny pub smell on them. She was a clever
girl – always up for a night cap, very welcoming. The mornings
for her were not so rewarding though, being shouted at when she
would bark to let the house know that the postman had just been.
So Bill and Bobby have arrived. My beautiful little 14 week old
Siamese kittens who are brother and sister. As you might be able
to tell I listen to a lot of recovery CD’s hence my boy is named
Bill. Bill the Cat, and Bobby Blue being a blue point, she is
oceanic, deep, noisy and powerful. I was watching 28 days on DVD
the other night, good film for Hollywood, it covered various
aspects of Alcoholism and they advised that you should be a year
sober before even contemplating getting a pet, ah well progress
not perfection! They are just actors anyway just like performing
alcoholics auditioning for some kind of horror film. Truth is
that they are not acting, that is the sick insanity of the
illness.
April 4th
First day back in work, and yes it was very different, it was
fine. I am grateful to be back in a routine and to give back to my
profession something. It was almost as if I had never left there
after a few hours, we never forget to ride a bike, incidentally
that’s how I am getting about, and uncanny I am back to that
teenager again with all that peddling power. This time not
controlled by how much battery power that I have, calf power now!
April 14th
I just stood there. Like a robot I held out both my hands and let
them do what they had to do, they were only doing their jobs,
nothing personal. I was choking as I felt the metal click clunk
around both of my wrists. I was pulled out of the dock by them
aware of my mother, father and friend sitting in the front just
behind. I just couldn’t look at them, what pain they must have
had in their eyes I’ll never know, perhaps that was what had to
happen, the vision of their faces would be too painful to
remember. They took me outside, I started to follow them down the
stairs, my legs gave way, I hit the floor,
“She’s gone”
I remember them shouting something about an asthma attack, my
complete body was numb yet I was hyperventilating, where was my
mother?
“I want my mother”
“Get off me I’m not asthmatic”.
Pulled back onto my shaking legs, I was taken down into the cell
trembling from head to toe. What can I do? I was zeroed. At this
point I realised that I had no rights, I was an animal who was to
be put in a cage indefinitely. The door slammed behind me. It’s
a good thing that they do lock you up at this time, because I
really felt like a complete psycho, I was temporarily capable of
ANYTHING. I have never been so riddled with fear, anger and
heightened senses in my entire life, I did not know any part of my
body or mind. Walter Cannon’s theory of human’s reaction to
stress is that of “Fight or Flight” all very well when the
environment is accommodating and there is an escape route, but his
theory is purely academic in such circumstances where a human is
physically restrained, they cannot fight or flight! Bewilderment
and rip-roaring rage at it’s most brutal. This was an evil
nightmare and I just wanted to wake up from the torment. I could
smell the adrenalin on me, I have smelt it before, a few times in
work with patients, it has a distinct smell of mustiness,
metabolic and chemical madness at it’s finest. A PH alkalosis that
exudes through every cell in our body, turning a body inside out.
I just sat there, eyes glued to my hand for some reason. After a
while a woman came in and started to ask me questions, I couldn’t
speak, my voice had gone. I was mute and not through stubbornness,
just shock! And so they cuffed me and took me away in a
compartment in a van. It had a small window to my right which I
could see the road out of. I was aware that we were travelling up
the M4 towards England, I asked God Why? I didn’t expect an answer
and I didn’t get one. I just knew that I was going to die, there
was no fight left in me, I felt like it would happen when we got
there, in fact if the van had crashed then all the better. I just
shut my eyes and tried to switch my brain off. I juddered again
with the reminder of what was happening, this kept happening all
the way there, body relaxing and then jerking. Maybe feeling like
a lost child who has been taken away from her mother, I don’t
know. I couldn’t cry, I wished that I could, but right now I
didn’t own my own body.
I had lost all awareness of time, the last time I remember looking
at the time was this morning, putting food down for the cats
waiting for my father to pick me up. It was still light though
when we got there, they took me in and asked me if I was injured
or harmed in any way. I wasn’t. I waited in a room with some
other women, they looked Ok, sat opposite me was a small woman
about my age with a vacant look on her face, she looked just how I
felt, I nodded at her and she tried to smile back. She now looked
petrified.
Silence was the only option, there was nothing that could have
been said.
I heard them saying to an inmate that she could make her one phone
call, right then well it would be my turn soon, I would have to
ring my mother.
Suddenly things began to feel real again. I was now thinking of
my mother and what I was going to say to her, there was not going
to be any White Flag above me. As hard as it was going to be, I
will phone her, and tell her to be strong and that it will all be
Ok, I had to, these were the words that were coming to me, I
didn’t matter if I was choking on the phone, she had to know that
I was ok and that I was going to be strong and we would get
through this together, she had to stick close to the family and
lean on them, I would be Ok, I was a survivor, always had been,
there was no way that I was going down on this sinking ship, I was
getting off to dry land, no white flags! She had to know.
That’s exactly what I told her on the phone, her voice stunk of
paralysed helplessness, she was still crying, and had been all
day, it was my turn to be strong now, she was still crying her
heart out. I told her she had to ring my boss tomorrow and be in
charge of my little cats, they had to be safe. The call run out.
All the worry that I had put her and my father through over the
past 8 months, I cannot begin to describe. That was the hardest
part, it had come to this. That night after various physically
invasive procedures I accepted that I just had to hang my dignity
on the wall on the way into prison and collect it when I left. It
wasn’t for ever even though it may have felt like it. He gave me
28 days to serve 14. Ok let’s start.
Slam there goes the door, I’m in my cell alone, it’s dark outside.
Not thinking about anything in particular. I have a plan though,
I will keep it in the day, “just for today I am in prison, I’m an
inmate for the next 24hrs. I wished I had my “Big Book” right
now. Every night for about a month I have been reading the book,
just 20 minutes or so, I love it, every time I read it, I think
about something different, I remember reading it last October, and
it might have been written in Swahili for all I cared. I was
thinking about my friend who I had practically been living with
since November, what must she be thinking? It doesn’t bear
thinking about, so I won’t.
Morning has broken. I feel different today, in fact I am quite
looking forward to the day, I have to go to an induction for
inmates, this was not going to be quite like the inductions that I
was used to. I always thought that inductions were through
voluntary application for something, never mind they still speak
English here. There were four of us and the little girl in the
room last night was there, I had a feeling that I would get to
talk to her. She was a very nice person from near my home town,
who was staying overnight just because her children had been
truanting from school.
Bed and breakfast in Gloucester whatever next? What the hell is
the matter with our judicial system, have the government taken
complete leave of their senses? They complain that there is a
shortage of prison spaces, it’s no wonder sending anyone in with
little more than committing a petty victimless crime? It doesn’t
take a rocket scientist to work it out. I’ll shut up who am I to
judge? I have a strong inclination that anger, resentments and
frustration will be luxury emotions that I will not be able to
afford.
I made enquiries about the library service there, I was praying
that they may have a copy of the “Big Book”. My counsellor keeps
telling me that whatever problems that I may have the answers are
in the book. He may well be right, but whenever I read the book,
afterwards I feel so rewarded that I forget what the problem was
to start with! It’s similar to the feeling of coming home from
an AA meeting, unexplainable, the power of the rooms. They told
me that I would have to apply in writing to get a permit to go to
the library and that it was only open on certain days, I would get
a reply from my application in writing within seven days. Ok just
accept that I have no rights whatsoever here, I felt like banging
my head on the wall. How long does it take to go to a library,
scan the shelves and ascertain whether the book is there or not.
Left to my own devices it would take me 5 minutes. Easy!
induction over, that was quick, back to my cell until dinner time!
Now I have always been inpatient I admit that, it’s in my blood,
and I get things done at my pace where I am in control. Slow
people irritate me always have, in fact they can drive hell into
me, I can’t understand why people take so long to get things done,
things that I know I could do 10 times more effective and in a 10th
of the time. What’s the matter with people? So many times I have
seen people doing things gingerly, fussing around, being
distracted from the task in hand, and I just feel like going up
and confiscating the task away from them and doing it myself. I
am so aware of this trait in me, in fact I now know that I am
actually displaying immense intolerance and it upsets people.
Consequently I then suffer and hound myself with feelings of
guilt.
There have been times in work, where I would play a little mental
game. For instance if I was asked to perform a task or a duty my
mind would activate “Challenge” and that task would be performed
110% in 0% time. I would often do it with such perfectionism
deliberately, because I knew others could not perform to that pace
and standard. I used to also get a kick out of it by seeing
other’s reactions to completion. I was making a statement but at
the same time protecting myself from criticism.
However, if I genuinely knew that someone was struggling and not
being “just lazy” I would feel overwhelmed by my helping nature,
and without trying seem to have all the time and patience in the
world for them. This I found particularly true when I was
teaching. If I was addressing those who ultimately did have less
knowledge on a subject than I, then my drive was to enlighten
them. My own agenda could be put to the side, the reward was then
in them becoming empowered with knowledge themselves.
I have never been a passive player, similarly never being a good
team player, hopeless! I have never liked being in the middle of
things or a group. I am either on the left or the right. I am
either fully involved in a project or I will completely sit back
with retirement from something. When I was in school I got into
trouble with the P.
E.
teacher, I was always in trouble every week because I would
deliberately forget to bring my P.
E.
kit in. I knew each week that I would be in for a showdown but it
didn’t deter or frighten me. On my school report to my parents
she commented that “When she can be bothered to bring her kit in
she performs well”.
The reason that I would not bring the attire in was simply because
I did not like playing hockey or netball, I was not afraid of
running about or sweating or being beaten in the shins by a hockey
stick I simply did not want to play ball! We did come to an
arrangement though, which took from form 2 to form 5 to sort out
though, she allowed me to play tennis on my own or go swimming. I
loved physical exercise, but not in a group, I liked solitary
sweating. It was my game and there were only 3 players allowed,
me, myself and I.
As I teenager, I was a loner. That’s just the way I liked it. The
interests and hobbies that I cultivated for myself were things
that I could do on my own, in my own time, I had to be completely
in control. Cycling, swimming, music they were all customary as
they met all of the criteria, physically, mentally supported by
self exploration and reflection. Also I could challenge myself
without conforming or relying on anyone else. They were not
things that I liked to share either. My cousin asked me if he
could come cycling with me one time as he wanted to join the
martial arts class that I was in, although I obliged there was
something missing that day, I lost that sense of freedom of
expression, for one thing I couldn’t listen to my walkman as I
peddled, we talked on our route. It was just not the same. I
could not cycle or listen as hard as I needed to.
This was the pattern really through my late teenage years and
early twenties. Progressively through socialisation within the
workforce I started becoming both very friendly and sociable
inside and outside of work, I even considered myself comparatively
approachable, I did enjoy all the interaction. I was happy, it
bared no threat to my persona and I felt open to listening and
learning. I liked people, I always have. However I was aware
that I was different, I was still the class clown who stuck out
and found it hard to conform, I noticed very few who sung from the
same hymn sheet as I. Always I would be stimulated and attracted
to those who were that extra bit different. I have never had two
friends who were alike, all were different, I could connect with
all of them in various ways, special little mental links and
attachments with each of them. I found them all unique. Libby
who I trained with said that she hated me the first time that she
saw me in that big training room on the first day of nurse
training. I had just turned 18. The introduction had started, I
moseyed in late, she noticed me, tried to hate me, within a year
we were playing in a band together and became best friends, more
than that - soul mates.
To this day she is my best friend and always will be, she lives in
Australia now and there isn’t much we haven’t been through
together, until very recently. I asked her once why she took an
instant dislike to me on that first encounter, she said it was
just in the way that I paraded into the room late, looked around,
sighed, plonked myself down in the middle of the room and let
everyone else carry on. ‘Ok I have arrived now’, no explanation
or apology to the lecturers standing in the front for being an
hour and a half late. She said she envied my arrogance and
confidence. Interestingly, that’s not how I remembered it.
Something happened in 1998 which ultimately stole my right of
freedom in my own mind and my peace and trust in being on my own.
Had I listened to the warning off my boss Stephanie 3 months
prior, then this perhaps would never have happened. I remember
her words,
“You need to slow down, you are burning the candle at both ends
and you are going to make yourself ill”.
She was speaking from experience too.
Usually I would listen to her through a great deal of respect and
trust that I had for her, I admired her and had known her a long
while, she was the best boss that I have ever had, she understood
me and I knew it! She had one up on me there, that way I could
always be reeled back in, she could do it and 99% of the time I
would listen as she was invariably right. But this time I missed
her advice thinking that she was talking about someone else and
this did not involve me.
It was at that time that I was working full time and any overtime
that I could get, in university doing my Masters and still
managing to find time for socialising and drinking.
It goes to show that I never did comprehend the meaning of the
word “warning”. I became ill, very suddenly, I was getting ready
for work one night and suddenly came over all unnecessarily,
having to call for my father to come upstairs, where quite frankly
I thought my days were numbered. I was admitted to hospital that
evening without a diagnosis, all my tests were negative, they gave
me a clean bill of health, but I was petrified, I knew I wasn’t
right, I couldn’t do anything. After more tests they diagnosed me
with Glandular Fever. I spent the next six months practically
settee bound, becoming depressed, weak and very fearful. I did
develop a phobia, I do not have it now and as always phobias are
very irrational, but it was so real at that time it compounded me
with fear.
I was afraid of being in the same room as myself.
I didn’t happen overnight, it slowly crept up, through the first
month or so of my illness. I was petrified of how weak my body
was, I had no trust in it. I would suddenly try to do too much
and then bang I would feel faint. I did faint a few times, I
would have fast unusual heart rhythms that would just fold me.
Very confusing as prior to whatever activity I was trying to do I
would feel fine, there would be no warning either. The earlier on
in the illness the more unpredictable it would be. I was feeling
quite well one day so my mother took me shopping, she took a day
off work to buy herself a new dress. No dress, no shopping was
done, I passed out in Debenhams, home we came.
So from then on my mission was NOT to be left on my own in the
house preferably not even in a room on my own. My Mother who was
working full time on occasions had to take me into work with her.
As awful as I felt it was tolerable if there was other humans in
the room. We would try every night, she would say to me
“Now you know I have to go to work tomorrow don’t you”?
“Do you? Can’t you take a day off please”?
“No come on you know you will be Ok, Muscle will be here for you
and Libby is coming around late morning, phone me in work when you
get up”
“I’ll try”.
I lived in a world of fear.
But in the morning I would hear her coming out of the shower,
getting ready for work, and that conditioned terror would start.
She would be out of the door and I would start crying begging her
not to leave me and go to work. Until I started to feel better,
everyone had to daytime baby-sit me and I’m not joking. If it
wasn’t appropriate that I could go to work with her, she would
drop me off at any of my friend’s houses who were not working, a
Rota was made and I would go to anyone, anyplace rather than the
torment of being on my own.
I remember she took me to see the G.
P.
for my check up on my 26th Birthday, we walked into the
morning appointment and he started to ask me questions, I felt so
awful I told him that I was scared. He could not understand why I
was scared because it was my Birthday, big bloody deal!
Ironically my mother told him that my friends were coming around
that night to celebrate and she wished I would have a few drinks
and relax.
“Good few glasses of wine that’s what she needs, you used to like
wine remember”?
Of course during this illness I had not drunk for months and was
scared of the stuff, shame I didn’t maintain that fear for future
years to come. Pity!
Gradually I did get better, although at the time it seemed as if I
was stuck in this pit forever. Slowly my strength built up and I
began to have more faith in my body, weaning myself off from
supervision and increasing my independence, my mother took me to
Florida for some sun, sea and seals. That really did the trick, I
felt restored and when we came home I felt strong enough to go
back to work, which I did. I never to this day have this yearning
to be on my own all the time. I grew to appreciate peoples
company and how secure they could make you feel.
I am in this cell by myself right now but I don’t feel scared or
lonely, I’m looking forward to being dined later on though, if
anything just to stretch my legs.
Funny thing, the day came and went, I went to bed to sleep to
start it all over again. I met a girl, well they were all women
there, but this one I could relate to, and guess why she was in, I
didn’t know at the time, threatening behaviour aggravated through
alcohol, see we are drawn to each other, alcoholics that is, sober
or not sober, it’s the eccentricity of the character and the deep
complex nature of our ways. I am fascinated by this, she even
liked similar music to me and I could read her like a book,
knowing what she was thinking. I had only known her for two
days. I felt like I was back in school, testing the hierarchical
system, the mischievous streak emerging within me. If there was
no fun well we would make our own, surviving on humour whether it
was funny or not. Typical I have always been attracted to any
chaos or madness that was going on. I noticed on the Wing wall a
notice for an AA meeting on the Saturday morning, I wrote my name
on the list, a lot of them did just to get out of their cells.
That Saturday morning at the meeting, they turned up like flies, I
overheard them saying that they were only going for the free
cigarettes. Yes sounds like a lot of AA meetings that I have been
too. Well it was the most interesting meeting that I have ever
been too, no one shared, everyone shouted, they were throwing fags
across the room, I pitied the two members that had come in from
Bristol to chair this meeting. Oh well they would have been women
of the world. At the end of the meeting I started talking to the
two members, she said that she knew a friend of mine from that
area, well AA can be a small world on times.
She then gave me her “Big Book” again I was speechless, what a
gift, I can’t begin to describe how grateful I felt, overwhelmed
really, but that’s just it and that’s the beauty and the visible
love and care of people in the fellowship, completely
unconditional, special people who have been through hell and back
giving to others what they have and know. There is nothing more
|
