I might be an alcoholic but the last time I had a drink was on April 4, 1987. It says 11:15 PM on the ticket but I swear I stood in the road for a hour waiting for the policeman to arrive. I never saw that other car until I hit it in the ass. I don’t know how fast I was going but my truck was totaled and the other guy’s insurance claim was “damaged beyond repair”. My BAC was 0.20 and I know that it took an hour more to get to the jail, where I blew in the breathalyzer (the accident was in a rural area). I was real drunk.
I woke up the next morning in the drunk tank of the Charleston County Jail and took stock. I knew that no one had been seriously injured or killed, I would not face a felony charge. I was not injured, my life was salvagable but would never be the same. I determined that if I did not STOP drinking, next time I might not be so fortunate. Note: most drunks at this point would admit that they would have to cut back, I’ve seen it happen.
I would lose my job, heavy equipment contractors have little use for someone unable to commute 40 or 50 miles to an ever-changing jobsite. Without a job I lost my apartment and had to move in with my Grandmother, she was the only one that would take me in, my Mother washed her hands of me. It was better than going to a half-way house, though. I became the defendent in lawsuits from all four occupants of the car I hit, if I had had something to take they would have gotten it. In a few months I found a job I could walk to and in a few weeks I bought a bicycle and got my own apartment. I moved on.
Looking back I am greatful. It doesn’t get better, that’s one of the lies they tell you. Since then I have had to deal with my own mental illness and another tragic accident that left me disabled for several years. But I dealt with these things well because I was sober. I have a wife that I love and loves me, I have a home. I do not survive, I thrive.
It’s still there, too, everytime I fill up my truck, the first thing that I am aware of is the location of the beer cooler, it gives me the creeps. (In South Carolina, you can buy a cold six-pack almost everywhere you can buy gas or if that’s too much, you can buy a single beer to take home and enjoy, go figure). I often want a drink, but for SEVENTEEN years now I have chosen not to.
