XXXI

The day was February 12th, 1994. All For Love by Bryan Adams and Sting led the charts; Ace Ventura was dominating the box office; Bill Clinton was president – the first term; Michael Crighton’s Disclosure was the top NY Times book; Green Day’s Dookie has just come out, and I was getting sober for the last time in Opelousas, Louisiana. If you asked that 17-year-old kid if he was going to be sober 31 years later, he would say he wouldn’t even be alive, let alone still not drinking and doing drugs.

Not only am I still alive, but somehow, I have found myself continuously sober. Sometimes, despite my best efforts even. Other times, I had to struggle to get through the days and weeks, but somehow still stayed sober.

Part of the struggle was some practically crippling mental health issues such as depression. No matter what kind of effort I put into life, I felt a weight, like heavy mud, weighing me down and making it hard to do the most mundane tasks. This darkness made getting sober very hard, but I wouldn’t have the opportunity to seek and accept the help I needed.

While Depression and its annoying little sister, Anxiety, still haunt me, I have tools today to deal with them. Half the battle is that I am facing these with a sober mind, and if I weren’t, I wouldn’t have the ability to.

Alcohol wasn’t the issue; it was the solution. I was the issue, or at least my mind was, and I was self-medicating with drugs and alcohol. When I look back at the beginning of my using days, I just remember missing everyone else’s manual for life. I felt an emptiness and had difficulty accepting the world for how it was. Every day was a million little knives slashing my soul.

I didn’t feel that when I was drunk and high. I didn’t want to stare into the abyss and see that it was staring back at me; I wanted to kiss the abyss. Feeling sober begins to be more challenging to endure. I wanted nothing to do with this world and all of its bullshit, but I didn’t have the gall to end it immediately, so I sought oblivion in chemicals.

Sobriety was a slap to the face, and when I tried not drinking, even after February 12th, it was challenging because I felt so awkward and raw. Waking up not super stoked about myself made it hard to have a drive for sobriety, but for some reason, I wanted not to feel the way I did before I got sober more. It was enough in the beginning. 

The drugs and alcohol turned on me. They abandoned me and only affected the body and left the mind sober. It wasn’t my solution anymore. The love of my life was leaving me, and I was left with the worst thing ever: me. 

Here is the thing: I didn’t feel attracted to AA. Other than some of the romance of coffee and cigarettes and a few famous people that dabbled with the 12 steps, AA seemed like a Christian cult, and in a lot of ways, it is. I did not want to be a member of AA. There is a saying that AA is the largest organization no one wants to join. 

It wasn’t because I was forced to, and they were forcing me to, but I think I just hit that place where I was so tired of living the way I was that I was actually open to trying something different. I had been to AA before, and all I could hear was the god and brainwashing stuff, so to be open-minded to try AA again came from a place of great pain and being terrified to continue. So, off to the meetings I went.

It was supposed to be a temporary solution. Get my life back together. Get the ability to finish high school and either go to college or get a job. I may be able to have some self-esteem. I didn’t do this for long-term sobriety.

My goal wasn’t to be an old-timer. The old timers I remember when I first got sober were not worth striving for—just old white guys who were grumpy all the time. Just get my life situated, and I’ll be able to do opiates mixed with meth like a gentleman.

What happened is that by faking it, I made it. By doing what was suggested, I found something much better than some self-esteem and the ability to join the mainstream of life. I found a life worth living, not by its materialism but by the stability in my inner self. I found an inner strength I didn’t know I had access to. I wasn’t feeling so out of touch, and I embraced the weird parts of me, and some of the people I met in AA accepted me. 

While I still attend AA meetings, I don’t think that much about drinking and drugs. There have been times when I thought about them, like when I had cancer, but most of the time, the idea of drinking and drugs doesn’t come up. Mostly only when I go to AA meetings. The option will always be there. I don’t think I’m impervious to relapse, but because of the work I do day to day, my chances of making it to the end of the day sober are high.

Recovery has become so much more than just not drinking; and it has become a way of life. I have found a way to see the world differently through inventory, meditation, restitution, and service. Recovery stopped being about not having hangovers a long time ago and started being about learning to live life to the fullest. 

I have a solution to most of the challenges I face today, and sometimes, that is asking for help from other resources like therapy. I never feel like I am just stuck in a perpetual problem that keeps me from connecting with my fellow humans. I may choose to stay that way, but in the end, much like my drinking and drugging, I get tired of being tired and become ready for a new way.

While I can never actually get rid of my depression, I do have tools today to live with it. I don’t have to let the depression color my decision-making, and in fact, I know that just doing the action will make the change easier. I go out and socialize because being in bed with my dog and watching movies isn’t the best every day. I make sure I am available to sponsees and other people to be of service because the best solution to self-pity and sadness is helping others. I don’t believe in god, but prayer and meditation help me and guide me in my day-to-day life. Inventory and admitting when I am wrong helps me clear my path, both into the past and into the future.

I have spent almost my entire life sober. Over the decades, I have witnessed so many changes in the world and myself. I have known so many people that I no longer remember. There have been so many ups and downs in my life where I have had to learn lessons. In some regards, I have grown up in AA, but in other regards, I have remained that 17-year-old kid.