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Thursday, February 10, 2005

Those were the days:

"The way I had it is all gone now. The bars are
gone, the drinkers, gone. There remain the smartest, healthiest newspeople in the history of the business. And they are so boring that they kill the business right in front of you."

--Jimmy Breslin, newspaper columnist, 1996 (Thanks to alert WORDster Jim Doyle)

 

'I was so bitter, bitter bitter': 15 years of sobriety, one day at a time

By Denise Albiston

January 19, 2005 | It's Les' birthday. He has 15 years. Fifteen years of truth, 15 years of honesty and 15 years of sobriety, the longest span of sobriety in his entire life. It has been exactly 15 years since he crawled into those meetings beaten, broken and in despair and 15 years since he surrendered himself to a higher power.

As Les collected his blue-and-gold-colored coin encrypted with the saying, "One day at a time," anonymous members of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) cried and smirked after viewing his accomplishment.

As each person felt the smooth texture of the 15 year chip, Les shared his story.

He said, "What it boils down to, is I was just an average alcoholic that broke people's hearts because I couldn't stay sober."

Les said 15 years ago, he had to learn what alcoholism was. He knew he drank too much, but he didn't understand the whole disease concept. He said he had been through a treatment center and been introduced to AA, but somehow he didn't get the information they were giving him.

"Today I hear it at every meeting, but for almost two years I was so bitter, bitter, bitter, I didn't hear the message," Les said.

According the Alcoholics Anonymous website, millions of men and women have heard or read about the fellowship since its founding in 1935. Of these, more than 2 million now call themselves members. They are people who once drank to excess before acknowledging that they could not handle alcohol and now live life without it.

Anonymity lies at the heart of the fellowship and assures members that their recovery will be private. Therefore, in keeping with the traditions of AA, this article uses only first names.

Les now equates his disease to being like an allergy. He said he has an abnormal reaction to alcohol, just like others who have a reaction to a bee sting. He said some people develop certain allergies over time, and that can be said for alcoholism.

Les said when he drinks, he experiences something different from what other people experience. He said everybody knows that alcohol is a depressant; most people have a couple of drinks, sit on the couch and watch a movie or just relax. For Les, he said, when he puts alcohol in his body it's a stimulant; he's wired and driving to the bar.

"When other people drink too much, they start to feel sick and out of control; I feel in control. Even when my body is vomiting because of the alcohol, my body is demanding more, and that's what makes me an alcoholic," Les said.

The first time he got clean, Les said, he was 20 years old. He said he joined a church, prayed a lot and tried to get the whole experience. It all seemed to be working. He said that he had pulled his life back together and things were great until one day, he couldn't do it anymore. He said he went and got a bottle and finished it. So he got another bottle and finished that. Then he got another bottle. He said he had no intention of losing control, he just wanted a bottle of wine and ended up drunk for a week after four years of sobriety.

"I would just start off with a couple of drinks that would trigger that allergy. I never got that buzz-on. I would just start out with a couple of drinks and somehow I'd pole vault into drunkenness. I just didn't get that I can't stop," Les said.

The second to the last drink was significant to understanding that he had a disease that he couldn't fix, Les said. In April 1989, he said and he had been experimenting with some controlled drinking. He had thought that his drinking may have been out of control, but he was sure he could get a handle on it. One night after work, he said he grabbed a six pack of beer to split with his roommate. The next night he bought a cold pack of beer and split it with his roommate. He said the next night he bought a case and this time he wasn't sharing.

"Saturday, I have no recollection of. Sunday, I have no recollection. Monday is gone. Tuesday I remember being arrested and whipped on pretty hard. Wednesday, I came to in jail. As it turns out I had pulled a robbery," Les said.

It was never intended to be like that, Les said. Waking up in jail, drunk, broken and confused was never the plan. He said he was blind-sided by the whole thing and wanted to be dead. He had lost his family, his girlfriend, his job, everything and had to start over–again.

"When I woke up in jail, I was so humiliated I wanted to die. There I was, on the floor in observation, in my underwear, bloody, beaten, jonesing and amazed that I was there again. I'm a nice guy. I never expected that to happen. I never intended on being in that place again," Les said.

At this point, no matter how hard he willed himself to stop breathing, Les realized that he wasn't going to die that day. He realized that he wasn't going to die the next day. He said he realized at that moment, sitting in that jail cell, that if he didn't stop drinking, life didn't have much to offer him.

"I never planned on getting trashed or going to jail. I wanted what I saw everybody else doing. I wanted to come home at night, have a couple of drinks and relax," Les said.

Six months later, Les said he had his last drink. He said that night his brain was screaming, "Have a drink, it will be OK, you can stop." He said he knew it was bull. He said he knew if he started to drink, he would lose control, but when the opportunity presented itself, he didn't care.

"When my buddies showed up, they thought I was going to die from alcohol poisoning. I consumed a huge amount of straight alcohol. I don't remember how much, but I know I vomited so hard that I cracked a rib and I protracted my rectum. When you vomit that hard, it's not social drinking," Les said.

As a result of alcohol and substance abuse, Les said his mother has buried two sons. He said that he is no different from his brothers. He said he doesn't know why some people make it and others don't. It's not because they're lucky or because they're smart, he said it's the process of learning the truth about their body. He said the truth is that alcoholics have a mind that thinks it can handle alcohol and a body that can't.

"Maybe some of us are genetically programed. Maybe some of us develop an allergy. I could spend the rest of my life wondering, "what if?" But when a man is drowning, you don't ask him how he fell in, you throw him a freakin' life preserver," Les said.

When Les' brothers died, he said it was very difficult, but expected. He said they have a saying in their family, "I love you warts and all." He said that saying in his family stands for unconditional love. He added that it means there is no shame and nobody has to hide. For his family, Les said, this is a tradition that has been passed down to his children. He said in the end, all anybody has is the love–drunk or sober.

Nanci, Les' wife, said when his brothers died, he relied on the AA program and its members a lot. She said that she has never known Les to have a drink, but that was a time in his life when he really struggled. She said by using the fellowship of AA and the sponsorship available, Les made it through one of the hardest things in life. She said that she really admires him for his strength and courage.

Les said the most painful thing about his older brother's death was knowing what was killing him. He said one day, shortly before his brother's death, his brother turned to him and said that it physically hurt him to see Les doing so well. His brother said that he knew he was a drunk and he knew it would kill him, but to see Les staying sober hurt. Les said that night he went home, home to his clean house, home to his wife, and home to his family. He said all he could do was think about how it could have been him in his brother's situation.

"I stopped drinking when I finally learned that I couldn't out-think it. I couldn't out-live it. I realized I was powerless. I have a body that can't handle it and a mind that is thoroughly convinced that this time I can," Les said.

Nanci said that sometimes she gets scared that Les could start drinking again. She said she forgets how hard it is not to do it and how strong the addiction is. She said awhile ago a good friend and member of AA who had been sober for a long time went back out. She said during those times she remembers how serious alcoholism is. She said that sometimes she forgets just how lucky she is and is amazed to see how strong her husband is.

At the end of the meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, members and nonmembers join in an embrace to recite the serenity prayer. Les, along with his family, friends and those he has sponsored in AA chant,"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

During this prayer, men and women from all different backgrounds, some rich, some poor, some old, some only 16, form a circle of fellowship. The circle represents a continuous bond to support and care for individuals trying to overcome a disease that affects every aspect of their lives.

"Keep comin' back. It works if you work it," members of AA cried out to end their meeting.

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Copyright 1997-2004 Utah State University Department of Journalism & Communication, Logan UT 84322, (435) 797-1000
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