I remember coming downstairs, it was still light out, and then I came to, lying on the couch with Christmas Vacation on the television. It was dark out. As I was shaking off my blackout, I realized that something was wrong.
No one was home.
Weren't we supposed to go to my in-laws' house today? Why am I still at home, and where is my wife, my kids? I made some phone calls and the ugly reality of what I had done, yet AGAIN, began to come clear. I guess I went nuts. My wife and son ran to mom's house. My ex-wife came and picked up my daughter. I threatened to kill her husband. Cops came in abundance. My 10 year old daughter stood and watched her dad get thrown to the ground by the police, weapons drawn. At some point they just tossed me on to the couch, which is where I woke.
I drove to the in-laws' house and the cops were called yet again. My family wanted nothing to do with me. NONE of them. Surprisingly, as the police watched me stumble back to my car, they offered to give me a ride home, rather than entrap me into a sure-thing DUI. That was very nice of them.
I eventually retrieved my car, packed my shit, drove home. My Mississippi home. And, there was about to be a fourth ex Mrs. Brown.
Good times continued to go bad in good ol Mississip. More cops, more familial antipathy, lots more drinking. Any remaining details are inconsequential, except for the fact that I holed up in an Econo Lodge and proceeded to drink myself to death.
Thankfully, I didn't succeed.
They say to never forget your last drunk. Well, I certainly haven't forgotten mine. This little jaunt down memory lane is just one event drawn from a rather rich and illustrious history of my alcoholism. Eight years ago today, I decided to do something...different. For years I didn't have a choice. I had to drink. Couldn't live without it.
What happened on that day, in that miserable motel room is something that I've come to realize that I will never really be able to explain. After years of complete and total dependence on alcohol, how did I come to decide to really quit? I mean, this wasn't the first time, ooohhh no. As the saying goes, I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. Yes, I get that. But, that doesn't fully quench my thirst for true understanding.
I will probably never truly understand the sudden change of heart. We are talking about a love affair with something that I had decided I was going to die with. That decision had been made years before this fateful day.
I am an alcoholic, so be it. I will die a drunk, so be it. Forever and Amen.
Yet, here I am, telling you oh faithful reader of my 8 year accomplishment. My 8 year journey of sober recovery. Oh Yes, you better believe I am a recovered alcoholic.
Without boring you of my Uncertainty Principle pontifications, I will just say that I am so grateful that I can share this with you today.
Yet, what I wish to leave with you today is a declaration of hope. There is hope for those that are new to this altered state of reality, this journey of sobriety. If you happen to be a friend or loved one of an alcoholic, then you can take what I am saying here to heart and truly believe that miracles do happen.
But, what you can't do is make them do it. It has to be their decision. Yet, the action that you can take is actually an incredibly important one. And that is to not enable them. For example, and this one is a biggie, do not bail them out of JAIL!!!
If it comes down to it, you must remove them from your life, in a way, and let the chips fall as they may. This is the best thing you can do for them. It's called Tough Love. And it works.
Trust me. I've had to do it.
Wow, what a deal. I am 8 years sober today. And I owe it to all of those that finally stopped enabling me. And to some very special people I've met along the way, several of them who are no longer with us.
-take care and thanks for reading
-stay awesome,
coop
p.s. This is for you, Curly. I miss you so much
