Phil's Recovery Story
It says in the book Alcoholics Anonymous that I should tell you what it was like, what happened, and what it is like now. I hope to be able to do that. And, hopefully, this will strike a chord in those of you who have been to that little piece of Hell.
I guess I've been a late bloomer in most areas of my life. I didn't have my first drink until I was 19 (legal age in Ohio where I went to school). I had a beer and I really didn't like the taste. I bought just the one and left it - I would never do that again. It would be about three or four months before I had another drink. One night a bunch of us decided to get the "hard stuff" to party with. I got sloe gin because my mom's once-yearly drink was a sloe gin fizz. And I like cherry flavoring. So, it took me about half an hour to mix and down a pint. It burned in my throat as it went down. And then - the world changed. I never felt so funny or happy or attractive or handsome or tall or popular. Everyone thought that I was great and took care of me. I spent the next 15 years of my life trying to drink myself back to those feelings. I'm here to tell you, you can't ever make it back.
Not that I didn't have some good times drinking. But it wasn't long before the Saturday night binges became weekend partying. And then I drank Tuesday nights because I didn't have classes the next day. As I became more aware of my feelings, I drank more to fit in, to feel "normal". I know what classes I took because I have the transcripts to show I was there. At least physically. My grades went from good to barely passing. When I finally moved home, my drinking eased up. As I began to accept myself, I had less need to escape. I made dean's list every semester. And, if I had come home drunk, my mom would have handed me my head on a plate.Things went pretty well for a couple of years. But when I got out in the world and began to deal with life, I started to drink again.
Alcohol is a great social lubricant (I love that phrase). It was easier to meet people, to be assertive, and, Lord knows, I looked better after a "few" drinks. After I started my relationship with Tom, my drinking began to worsen. As the relationship opened and it began to deteriorate, I began drinking in earnest fearing that Tom would leave me. Tom had become my "higher power". I didn't make a move or think a thought without considering what his reaction would be. I drank to feel younger, handsomer, smarter, taller - you name it. I never realized what was happening.
When we moved to Dallas, I did ease up a little. But, with my family and friends miles away and sex outside our relationship becoming more frequent and physically abusive, I started to drink more to ease the guilt, to set up fights with Tom, and to ease the pain of abuse. As things got worse, I began to black out regularly. I was wetting the bed (mine and sometimes other peoples') on almost nightly basis. I was having sex with men whose faces I couldn't even recall, most often in and out of blackouts. I put myself in situations to be physically abused and found men who enjoyed abusing me. In the end, too scared to kill myself, I started to actively seek someone who would kill me (either accidentally or on purpose). What was left of our relationship fell apart in May of 1985 and we separated. My sister, unbeknownst to me, was in AA. She would look at me with pity and disgust in her eyes and say, "Phil, you don't have to live like this." I didn't understand. I just knew that my world was ending.
On the morning of July 8, 1985, I "came to" in my own bed, wet of course, with the worst hangover I had ever had. I couldn't remember much of the previous night. I was sick. And I was scared. I could see no way out of this cycle but death. So without even thinking about what I said, I prayed "God, I can't live like this any more." I know now He was listening. I had too much shame (and ego) to ask my sister for help. But I had an old drinking buddy who had been sober for a while. I called him at work that morning and asked about the meetings he went to. He gave me the schedule and asked which one he could take me to. That night when I got home from work, he was sitting on the hood of his car. He looked like an angel. There was something in his face and eyes that I couldn't see in mine. I wanted what he had.
Well, surprisingly enough, I am still sober today. I was very lucky that it stuck the first time. Many people go in and out of AA until they get sober or die. There has been nothing in my life so far that has been painful enough or hopeless enough to drink at. Of course, I didn't have much to do with this - I just suit up and show up. A "Higher Power", which I choose to call God, is calling the shots today.
Don't let this appearance of "religion" frighten you. I am not a religious person. I am a spiritual one, though. There is a major difference. Religion divides, spirituality unites. AA asks only that you admit that there is a power, something greater than yourself. The best example of that is alcohol. At first, a power greater than myself was the spirit of the people in AA who could stay sober each day. They loved me and showed me how to live soberly.
Today, I am not the man I hope to be but, thank God, I'm not the man I was. The change has been, for lack of a better word, "miraculous". I have walked through many things - unemployment, my AIDS diagnosis, sickness, Duke's death - with a grace that I received as a benefit of living sober. Any of those events would have set me off on a drunk that few people can even imagine. I have met people of incredible love and spirit along the way. I have shared love, commitment, and caring that I had only read and dreamed about. I had the chance to do many things because I was sober enough to be present. I've taken train trips to Vancouver, New York, Washington, and Los Angeles. I went to Hawaii on a cruise ship. I went on a trip to Disney World with some friends. These things may seem small to you but, for some one who came from where I had come, they were the fulfillment of my dreams.
So, if you think you may have a problem with drugs or alcohol, please find someone to talk to. That can be the first step to getting help. Sobriety is free, simple, and can bring you things you have never even imagined. I know. I've been to Hell and I've had a glimpse of Heaven. And . . . if our way of life doesn't suit you . . . well, we will gladly return your misery. Someone is only an email away.
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