Imagine for a moment if you will a re-purposed brick school building. Decrepit, malodorous, with bars on the windows. Stale cigarette smoke and medical disinfectant tinge the air. Rows and rows of uncomfortable cots. Now add a dozen or so males aged twenty - sixty. Throw in a sprinkling of orderlies and nurses and you have an idea of the detox facility I found myself in a decade ago. I have not had a drop of alcohol since then.
My journey to sobriety is not unique by any stretch of the imagination. While my experiences are quite personal, they echo a story that is familiar to anyone with a substance abuse problem. For a full decade of my life, my only relationship was with booze.
I am a functional alcoholic. That just means I was able to limit my consumption to non-work hours and could hold a job. The restaurant business makes for perfect hours. Get up at the crack of noon, make it to work (sometimes hung over, but usually not), work till 10 or so and then hit the bar.
I would not get black out drunk every night, but it was a virtual guarantee that I would have at least six drinks. The first beer was usually down within a minute or two and on particularly stressful nights it would be gone in five seconds. Several beers would follow. Most nights the drinking would continue with mixed drinks and/or shots. This was my life five nights (minimum) a week.
At what point did I know I was an alcoholic you may ask? Well Hindsight being what it is, I think I can say from the moment I had my first drink I knew it was going to be a problem. I am constitutionally incapable of having just one. I am an alcoholic. I do not understand people that have one drink. I do not understand people who say they have had enough. How can you have enough of feeling like this? That being said, about three years prior to my entry into the detox facility I knew that the life I was living could only end one of two ways, dead or sobriety. Having been raised by a father who found soberity I knew it was an option, I just did not know how to reach that point, but I asked.
My father, in his wisdom, provided me with all the information I needed and offered to go to AA meetings with me. But he did not force the issue. Though I am sure he could see the barely contained pain in my eyes when I asked him, he made no demands. Because he knew. He knew I had to be ready.I was not quite to the breaking point yet, I could try the sober path, but it would not likely last long. I needed to hit rock bottom, before I could climb back up a different person.
And thus began a tortuous road to redemption. I remember that Sept 11, 2001 was a Tuesday, not because of the tragedy that day, but because I found out the night before a friend of mine died while driving intoxicated and I proceeded to get wasted while watching Monday night football. I had given her a ride home, yet she decided to try and make last call...somewhere. Add survivor's guilt into an already messed up psyche, pile on a few other of life's less than pleasant surprises over the course of the next few months and I became a completely messed up shamble. Blackouts became more frequent. Outwardly I wore a pleasant mask, inside I was dying a little more every day.
Which brings us to Friday, February the thirteenth, 2004. I drank far less than usual that night. I did not get done with work until 10. I only had a few beers and a couple of drinks, no shots because I knew the next day was going to be busy so I was taking it easy. A drinking buddy of mine needed a ride home, a perfect reason for me to logic my way out of the bar. Of course when I was pulled over by one of Carver County's finest I blew a .223 BAC.
Which resulted in my stay at detox.
Why bring any of this up? Because at detox is where it happened. A moment of clarity. After being arrested and processed and driven out to Hastings I had pretty much sobered up. A couple of hours sleep on an uncomfortable cot. After a cup of terrible coffee and powdered egg breakfast, all that was left was me and my thoughts. Then it hit me, that one perfect moment where everything made sense. Time becomes non-linear, I had the questions and answers to everything. I dare say it was a touch of the divine. No amount of feeble wordsmithing can come close to describing it.
Now if you know me, you know that I am in no way religious. Zero, zip, nada, but spiritual yes. After that all too brief of a moment, I resolved to change. I may not have faith in the Christian trinity, or Allah, or Buddha, or any off the other hundreds of gods we human beings have given supplication too over the centuries, but I HAD seen the results of what that belief could do for both good and evil. You know who I picked as inspiration? Abraham Lincoln. No Joke. Ole' Abe. His belief in divine providence basically held together the nation during the American Civil War. Of course the South proclaimed God on their side as well, but I digress.
My resolve was quickly tested when there was a mandatory group session. A couple of chemical dependency counselors, a dozen or so groggy, hungover fellow detainees and me in a classroom filled with chairs and AA literature. One of the counselors asked, "who here is an alcoholic?" I was the only person who raised a hand. I looked around the room a bit and spouted, "guys we're wearing pajamas and booty socks in detox on valentines day. I know I got a problem!"
Two days in detox, two days in jail, and out on bail and I was ready to be sober! Yeah, not easy. In any way shape or form. In fact it sucked. But I knew that the alternative was worse. My father took me to my first AA meeting. And my second. And my third. Introduced me to the program. I knew I had found a good place to be. I found a sponsor (Thanks Steve!), worked the steps, attended my out patient program. I was doing it!
Yet as anyone who has had to undergo significant change in their life will tell you, it was not simple or painless. There is a reason the relapse rate hovers around 90% over the course of the first four years. My sponsor, got on and fell off the wagon twelve times before he finally remained sober. And he still is to this day. I consider myself lucky that once I made the decision to remain alcohol free I have remained so.
Does the AA program work for everyone? Dunno I'm not everyone. All I know is it got me going down the right path. Am I willing to help any alcoholic that asks for help? Hells yes! But it comes with a caveat, they have to want to be helped. My dad taught me that. I think of it thusly, me telling someone to quit drinking is not going to accomplish a damn thing, it is a lot like the Pope telling you NOT to be catholic. In fact all I can really do is share my story and hope they see that there is another way to live life.
Tonight I celebrated my ten year sober anniversary with friends, family and my fiance. It is an evening I could never had dared to imagine ten years and one day earlier. In fact at times I look at it from a solipsism point of view and wonder if I am still in that moment of clarity.
I have not reached this point on my own. Without the support of my family and friends I would have devolved back into a drunken stupor long ago. It is not personal willpower that has carried the day, but the radiant power I draw from those around me, those who believe in me, even when I do not.
Like most things, sobriety has become easier with time and practice. I must however remain ever vigilant. The beast may presently be caged, but it still rattles the chains from time to time just to remind me that it is never truly conquered, only held at bay for another day. Sometimes it tries the subtle approach, whispering remembrances of the fun times. Sometimes it uses stress and anger as leverage on the bars. Other times it uses grief as a means of unlocking the door. Every so often it tries the random daydream approach, hoping to catch me in a moment of weakness.
But Sober I remain. I will continue to do so. At least for today, because I can only take them one day at a time.
I'd like to thank everyone that has ever had a kind word to say when I was feeling low. You know who you are.
And to that handful of people who doubted me....HaHa, jokes on you fools, though if you ever decide to leave that bar stool, I'll be more than willing to help if I can.
And yes, I still thank the police officer that pulled me over every time I see him.
