In one hour and forty one minutes I will have two years clean and sober. (Well, it’ll probably be two years by the time I write and post this.)
Two years ago I was a hopeless drunk. I had lost numerous jobs (including my dream job) and ended up working a total crap job, had two DUIs, had no car and was living with my sister because I had been homeless for a time. I was using my parents car (because they love me they were stupid enough to let me borrow it). Oh, I was broke. I mean really, really, picking cigarettes out of ashtrays so I could save my change for beer, broke.
About my last drunk:
I went to work at my new job and made it through the training for the day and someone suggested going to a bar after work. I had just started this job (I had just blown a job in Costa Rica that was handed to me. Good money in Costa Rica doing what I like, computers) and it was the last day of training. So I said yes. I was to start a new schedule on Monday. It was also payday.
I said yes.
I woke up the next day extremely hung over in middle of nowhere. I was at a gas station outside of town (I am not sure exactly where it is to this day) and the car my parents had lent me was wrecked. I had some cuts on my face, nothing big, but there was a lot of blood. Somehow I got the car into town. That was amazing because the car was almost out of gas, it had almost nothing in the tank. I also had no money. I blew my whole check on drinks.
I got home, my sister was out of town, and was depressed and suicidal. I had wrecked my parent’s car and blew all my money in one night. I had a job that paid crap and I hated with all my being. I had nothing else. I gathered all the change in the house, walked to the store and bought more beer. The next day my Dad came by for some reason. He saw the car (he would later make a comment that he found it amazing that I was able to hit every corner of the car. I did, every corner was wrecked. I think I pinballed between barriers on the highway.) He found me drunk in my room. I don’t remember what was said, I don’t remember very much of this actually, but he ended up taking me to their house. That night, while I was sobering up, was spent watching the news to see if I killed anyone and waiting for the cops to show up.
Luckily I did not hit anyone.
When I was sober enough, my parents told me that they were done. I could a) go to a halfway house and they would help me get in or b) I could leave that minute and they would never help me again.
I was sick, terrified and had absolutely no hope. I had no idea. I was lost. I cried. I cursed being born (seriously). I wanted to die. It was a bad night.
I knew I needed help and had been through treatment but it still didn’t seem to work.
So, like many an alcoholic, I took the easy way out. The easy way was the halfway house. I didn’t know what else to do. It would be a place to live and maybe, just maybe, someone would be able to tell me what to do to fix myself.
It worked. The halfway house was owned by a man named Frank and run by a man named Dennis. Dennis laid down the rules: A meeting a day (AA), chores, curfew. Many simple things that non-alcoholics take for granted.
I moved in and was not very excited about the situation. I was better than this. I shouldn’t be with a bunch of uneducated lowlifes. Or so I thought. But there I was.
I did the chores. I went to work even though the job sucked and the money wasn’t any better. I went to meetings. I found out how to sleep when the guy next to you snores like a chainsaw. I cleaned the house. I made dinner. I did yard work. I did the dishes. I installed a cable modem and got a computer for the house. I went to more meetings. I read the big book. I got a sponsor and did the steps. I made amends to those I had hurt. I listened to Frank and Dennis and other old timers and did what they said. I learned to live without drinking.
After about three months in the halfway house I got a new job doing computer stuff again. And, even though I bitch about the job, it is way better than my last job. It pays good money and has great benefits.
I left the halfway house after six months. A week before I left the halfway house I bought a new car, a brand new Hyundai Elantra. It is my first brand new car and I love it.
I left the halfway house and moved into a great two bedroom condo. A guy from the halfway house is my roommate. I got my cats back (they were at my sisters and not very happy there; they lived with two dogs and another cat).
Since then I bought a new computer. I setup a home recording studio. I got some tvs, a new dining room set and a full set of living room furniture. I got a new guitar.
I’ve been on a couple great vacations, to the lake and to watch the Supercross with my brother a couple times. A very good friend has come out to visit me a couple times and we’ve gone to concerts.
My family now trusts me. My parents ask me to take care of their house when they are away. In the past they wouldn’t have done that because they couldn’t trust me with their house. My brother, who is a smart guy and figured out long before anyone else that it was best not to do anything with me while I was still drinking, asks me to meet him at the lake or at the races. The sister that I lived with is cool with me now. I made my amends and we get along. My oldest sister, whom I really look up to, trusts me and we talk as often as we can.
I have my friends back. They no longer have to worry that I’ll get shitffaced and do something stupid.
I can afford to buy my friends and family gifts for Christmas and birthdays. I actually REMEMBER birthdays.
And I actually like my life. I have money to buy everything I need and most things I want. I have a great place to live filled with nice things. I have the love and respect of my family and friends. The constant feeling that life sucks, that something is wrong, that there has to be something I am missing, is gone.
Slee