The beginning of the end (Part III)

This is part three of a three-part blog series around alcoholism. I decided to write about alcoholism and my personal journey because I continue to see my communities affected by it, as well as addiction.

When one is consumed with self hatred and fear and has found that the only thing to help them deal with that is to drink (or do drugs) the thought of not drinking is equal to or more than the fear that already consumes you.

I first dealt with the terror of a life without alcohol when I was 18 and in an alcohol treatment center. It was bearable there. Like many treatment centers it was group therapy type things during the day and then trucked off to AA meetings at night. By the end of my time there I was convinced that I could live without a drink. By the evening of the day I got out of rehab I was drunk.

That was the last time I had attempted to not drink. Aside from the terror of thinking about not being able to drink for the rest of my life I also kept thinking that alcoholics were old people, not teenagers. I was sure I had many years ahead of me of drinking before I would have to look at not drinking.

Back to the end. I was sitting in a bar in Norfolk. I didn't know how I was all of a sudden drunk. I decided it was time to go back to base and could not find my car.

The next day was December 30th. I was excited as I had decided to try to quit smoking for the new year. A great resolution I thought. On the outside I was trying to hold everything together, and failing. My boss had brought up the fact that based on my military record, I should not even be drinking. I weighed 138 pounds at 6'3". To give you a good picture, I now weigh 198 pounds.

That evening I was at the enlisted bar on base. Simply Red's video was on the screen and I was settling in for a night of drinking with friends.

I don't know what happened. No, this time it wasn't a blackout or a lost car. It was me standing in front of a Navy alcohol rehab guy on base, a few blocks from the enlisted club, asking if he could tell me where the closest AA meeting was.

This was the end. Due to the "anonymous" part of Alcoholics Anonymous, I am not going to go into what happened after that. I will say that if you know me, you know that I am in recovery and that is something that I am not shy about sharing. I share about it in my daily life, on Facebook, at work and at social events. I share it because people who know me today (and did not know me when I drank) cannot possibly conceive the person I used to be.

I have not had a drink since that night.

Alcoholism kills people. It destroys families and relationships. It shows up in different ways. Some people drink daily. Others binge drink. Others only drink beer.

For more information on alcoholism and on Alcoholics Anonymous click here:  http://aa.org/?Media=PlayFlash 

I feel that it is important that I offer information about alcoholism after writing about it. There is indeed help for those who think they might be alcoholic. One does not have to die, kill someone in a car accident or live an entire life consumed with fear and disgust.

There you have it. If you have read one or more of this blog post series, I thank you. It is not easy sharing an ugly part of ones' life. I also appreciate the huge amount of love and support I have gotten from our readers.

If you would like to connect with me but do not want to share a public comment, my email address is vegandude@msn.com

The beginning of the end (Part II)

Just in case you did not read the first part of this series, these posts are about my end days in active alcoholism. I decided to finally write about this and walk through my fears of letting all of our readers know about this as I continually see alcoholism and addiction take it's toll on activist communities.

Christmas Eve I decided to drive to Midlothian, VA and go to a party held by old family friends. Midlothian is just west of Richmond, not too far of a drive from Norfolk.

The week prior had been full of activity as the largest naval base in the world filled up for the holidays. Many people were arriving on ships coming home for the holiday, including several friends of mine.

One was a guy I had met in treatment back in '84. We had stayed in touch even though he had stayed sober and I had not (I actually went and got drunk the night I got out of treatment). Matt was coming back from a short deployment and I decided to go meet his ship.

Seeing him for the first time since treatment was a shock for me. He had stayed sober, and looked the part. His huge grin and strong hug greeted me. His eyes were clear. He looked so, so healthy. I was blown away.

We were able to set a time to grab a bite to eat. As I nervously drank my pitcher of beer he caught me up on the past year since leaving rehab. I could not believe the change in him. What was clearly obvious was that he was happy. As he talked with me he constantly smiled. He was truly happy without alcohol.

Back to Christmas Eve. I spent a couple hours with family friends and enjoyed the wide variety of drinking options. As typical, I was soon drunk. There was a lot of drinking going on and I was right in the middle of it. I then decided it was time to go, and I climbed into my Chevy Citation to head back to Norfolk.

I woke up to a tapping on the window. The car window. I was cold. A nice looking guy was looking into my car. It took me a second to realize that he was a police officer. I rolled down my window. He immediately stepped back due to the stench coming out of my car. I had passed out, at some time had thrown up, had urinated on myself and for some reason he didn't like the smell.

As luck would have it I was parked in a bank parking lot. I had to move. I apologized. I didn't recognize where I was. Richmond? No, the handsome officer said. I was in Madison Heights, way WEST of Richmond, like more than an hour. I had the left the party to drive 1 1/2 hours EAST to get back to Norfolk. I have no idea how I ended up in Madison Heights and I had no memory of anything after the party.

The officer told me about a YMCA where I could wash up and mentioned a local meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. As if, I thought.

I went to a gas station, washed up, grabbed a bottle of Boones Farm wine (my favorite) and started the drive back to Norfolk.

I felt sick. I felt like I wanted to die. A few more hits of the wine and I would be OK. Once back in Norfolk I would be fine.

Thank you for reading. I am truly grateful. This is not a part of my life that I have shared with most people but I wanted to in my desire to talk about alcoholism in our communities. Every alcoholics' story is different and each alcoholic reaches a point in which they cannot stop drinking no matter what.  More to come.