Sober, Happy,
& Free
By:
Rick S.
Reprinted
From: The Community Health Alliance
I grew
up in Chicago, one of six kids. My dad worked three jobs most of
my childhood, and my mom dedicated her life to taking care of her
family. She had anxiety disorders, and it seemed that she didn't
have time to think of herself. I don't remember a whole lot of my
childhood except I felt alone and different than the other kids.
After
graduating college, I married the girl I met in school and got a
job in the business world. Just a pretty standard story. I do,
however, remember being very drunk at the wedding. So drunk I went
home with my new wife and passed out for many hours. At the time
it didn't really seem strange.
In
my working life, I got take-out drinks for the daily train ride
home. First a few beers for the ride, and then a couple of years
later, martinis. I also had the softball leagues and the Christmas
parties, Cubs and Bears games, and with them all, more and more
drinking.
What
I see now without a doubt is that I was beginning to rot inside.
All those things I wanted to be when I grew up--a decent man and a
church-going family man, were slowly fading into impossibility. I
went where alcohol was served and sneaked it in where it wasn't
served. I got divorced, remarried, and started all over again.
There was a hole inside of me that I couldn't fill. It seemed
alcohol would do it for a while, but it kept requiring more and
more to fulfill its purpose.
The
mornings would bring great anxiety and depression and overwhelming
feelings of utter despair and hopelessness. So I did what I had
trained myself to do; when I felt bad I drank. Alcohol had became
my higher power without my having chosen it so. I wouldn't leave
it or keep it far from my thoughts for even a short time.
I
drove to work one morning and passed a church sign that I looked
at everyday, even though I really didn't want to. It said
something like, "God has not moved from you; you are the one
who has moved away from Him."
I
remember asking God to just leave me alone and let me finish going
down this road of destruction. "Please just let me go,"
I said. But He wouldn't. No Way. He heard my (hidden) plea for
help and saw my undeclared surrender.
I
hit bottom without ever knowing what that meant. Hadn't I just sat
holding my two-month-old son and yelling at my wife to take him
because I couldn't stand holding him while he cried? Didn't I just
miss my two-year-old daughter's birthday party as I sat in the
upstairs bedroom drinking a bottle of whiskey while a whole house
full of people asked where I was? The end had come. My wife woke
up one night, saw I was incoherent from drinking every ounce of
alcohol in the house, and sent me to the hospital.
Rick
the college graduate and corporate executive had obtained a new
title: Chronic alcoholic. Me? I didn't get a DUI, was never inside
a jail, had a nice house, two cars, and a good incentive and
retirement plan. Chronic alcoholic? Seemed pretty serious.
In
the hospital, I said to my counselor, "Please help me with my
problems and then I won't have to drink so much."
My
counselor responded, "Rick, you have it completely backward.
Quit drinking, and many of your problems will go away."
I
attended my first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting at the hospital. I
remember all the negative feelings as I sat at that meeting, sober
and scared. Afraid, anxious, shaky, and just bad. What I didn't
understand was that this state of being had been produced from a
most powerful enemy--alcohol, which had defeated me spiritually,
mentally, emotionally and physically.
This
was the beginning of a whole new life for me. In a very real and
special way to me, and to so many others like me, I was truly born
again. Now everything is new. My life in AA is better than it's
ever been, even before my first drink. My boy is seven now, and he
is the kid I always wanted to be. He's smart, confident, and
athletic, and he loves his dad. We hang around together and are
building a relationship I could only dream about before I got
sober. My little girl hugs me and kisses me and takes such good
care of her brother.
I am
getting out of life what I always wanted. Not from a stinking
bottle, but from a program of Honesty and Love. The hole I was
trying to fill with alcohol is now being filled with a spirit and
a joy of life. I still struggle with the normal problems of life.
But as long as I stay sober, I have a base to work from.
I
say this at meetings sometimes, and I'll say it again here in
writing: When I was drinking, I was terrified of dying because I
knew that I would die a miserable man. But if I die tonight, I
will die sober, happy, and free.
Rick
S.
|
