This post is another in a series of occasional installments describing my early recovery and treatment for alcoholism.  The most recent prior post is Anesthetized to life: Thirty years of drinking and now this?   Others may be found in the “My Links” section on the left side of my blog. Every time I post one of these stories I hear from a number of people struggling with alcoholism/addiction – either theirs or someone in their family, or a friend.  I am grateful for that as my primary purpose in telling my story is to carry a message of hope to others who are dealing with this killer disease.  

 It also makes me humble and grateful for my sober life and recovery program.  I mention AA periodically as that is what works for me.  I am neither a spokesperson nor do I represent AA in any manner. There are many ways to get clean and sober and it doesn’t matter to me how one achieves this.  Simply put, this is my story.  I appreciate you taking time to read it. 

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 St. Patrick’s Day, 2002

I have been asked to “tell my story” at an AA meeting.  I have been sober for about eighteen months.  I have gone to literally over 600 AA meetings, found some work, lived in a sober group home (Oxford House), moved back home, got kicked-out on my one-year sobriety anniversary and moved into an apartment, got into a “relationship” that I-had-no-business-being-in-but-it-felt-so-good, and learned to navigate a series of bus transport systems. 

I just wasn’t “getting it.”  I knew that much.  I didn’t really know what “that” was; but, I knew something was still very, very wrong.  My sponsor had recently said to me one day “You look really bad.  You must be thinking of yourself again.”  Now that got my attention.  I acknowledged his rightness (again) and just kind of looked at him with a “now what?” face?  He asked me if I’d be willing to try something new and he reminded me that the only condition of our relationship (sponsor-sponsee) was honesty.  I hesitated and then replied “Sure.”  I really didn’t know what I was saying; but, I was desperate for anything to help me feel better.  He said “I want you to try prayer.”  He might as well have just told me to jump off a cliff.  Prayer? Is he fucking kidding?  Me?  My truth was that I was an angry, self-centered, intellectualizing atheist agnostic who was certain of only one thing in this universe.  There was no “God” and prayer was for weak people. ..or stupid people. ..or those people with that “look” in their eyes.  You know the look.  And then he added “I’d suggest you just say a prayer for someone else – not yourself.”  My quick response was “Like what?”  He suggested a simple payer for someone else’s welfare.  Okay.  Got it.

So I went home and “prayed” for all of thirty seconds for someone else.  And the next day I did it again and then found myself praying for several people’s welfare at least several times per day.  Several weeks passed and nothing much changed.

I am now standing in a room in front of about 60 people and beginning to tell my story.  The standard format is to describe “what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now.”  I remember beginning by asking everyone to observe a moment of silence with me as I got focused.  They did.  Running through my head was a prayer that I borrowed from my sponsor.  He told me how every time he talked to a group his last prayer before he started was simply “God don’t let me fuck this up.”  So I silently repeated it and began with the standard “My name is…”

I spent the first twenty minutes describing my early drinking years, relating some serious consequences of my drinking, and getting ready to tell “what happened” that got me to stop drinking when I was suddenly overcome with a wave of simple good-feeling-gratitude.  I paused a moment, a very long moment, and began speaking again.  I described how just that moment I had become aware that despite all my external troubles I had never felt better in my life.  As I stood there I was searching my mind frantically for how this could be true.  How could I possibly stand in front of this roomful of people and feel so good?  What had happened?  Then it hit me – the prayer thing.  I had a clear thought that all I had done differently in recent weeks was begun to pray for others.  I was astounded.  I shared this out loud and moved on with my story.  Here I was with all my external problems still there and I’m feeling so good.  This was totally new.

I finished my story by relating what happened the day I quit drinking and how life had been since then.  No pretty picture.  No phony images to make people think I was successful.  Just a pretty raw account of early sobriety.  I finished, thanked everyone, and took my seat on the side of the room.  I had been one very much used to employing “contempt prior to investigation” and I had also been one who “came to scoff and remained to pray.”

My life path took a sharp turn that day.  A genuine moment of clarity.  A humble realization that I was one-among-many.  And, that was just fine…for now.

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I have been writing excerpts of my alcoholism and recovery story and posting them on OS for quite a while.  Some reading this today are “new” readers and I appreciate you taking time to read this.  This all occurred about ten years ago.  My life today is a total miracle in so many ways, and I want readers who may be struggling to know that there is hope and that it takes time.  And to be certain, my life today has its struggles and hardships; but, that’s just life. 

And to you “veteran” readers of my story, I continue to offer you my most heartfelt thanks.