Looks like I have a new addiction... and it's called blogging. I should really be in bed, but it's been nice to get it "out there".
Tonight's meeting was regarding our "pipeline" to God. A lot of people tend to be turned off by the subject of God or a Higher Power in AA, but it was nice to hear the varying opinions on it (remember Hope?). It was a good meeting, though I got a little sidetracked again... asking for advice on how to deal with my latest wreckage. I still pick up my phone several times a day, simply out of habit, expecting a text message. What I end up with is the current time. Have I recently mentioned that I don't know how to deal with this? Oh, wait, yes I have... about three hundred times. But I'm reminded three hundred times, as well. Every meeting that I've been to, I've heard, "You know, so-and-so was extremely worried about you.... why didn't you call?" Hell, I should've called a hundred people. I should've gotten my ass to a meeting, even drunk! Instead, I'd stumble to the front desk of the motel, pay for another night, then pray to God (you bet I was praying at 8:55am) that the liquor store was opening.
In fact, let's get it out in the open. This is what happened... truly. I'm not proud of any of this, but it's note-for-note what happened.
When I'm sober, I do pretty well (hey, I think). I'm supportive, I'm a friend, I visit family, I spend time with my son... I'm a good guy! It's something I should try to remember.
Unfortunately, since I've tried to quit drinking, things have gotten much, much worse. I NEVER drank as badly as I do now when I relapse. An older friend of mine is known to say, "AA broke my drinking!" He's right. AA broke my drinking. I don't get drunk anymore. I drink to the point where I pass out... wake up, drink, pass out... etc. I don't get hangovers because I'm always still drunk. And that's exactly why I never called my friend. I was never sober enough to do it. I'm very sorry about that, but it's the truth. It's not an excuse... it's just the truth. (There's someone reading this saying, "Dammit, put the bat down!!" I will, eventually. But it... hurts. Can I just keep the bat a *little* longer, please?)
I was a daily drinker for a long time, but rarely did I wake up and rush to the package store. I always had enough to keep myself going. Not this time. I would pay for a room at approximately 8:45am (I timed it out), get in my car and drive straight to the liquor store. I'd arrive at 8:55am or so, lock my car and look in the window. I'd beg to God (who, frankly, didn't want to hear *that* kind of prayer from me) that someone was already there and the door was open. And every morning, at 8:55am, someone WAS there and they would let me in. Every day, I left with 3 liters of vodka and a two liter bottle of Sprite. By the day's end, the vodka was gone, but I'd have half a bottle of Sprite left. And, thankfully, I would pass out until the morning.
But two weeks ago, something happened. My drink completely broke. Maybe I drank too fast? Maybe I didn't care if I lived or died? I have no idea. From 11pm until 4am, I watched the clock... I was out of liquor. This time, I wasn't sure I was going to make it. 4am until 9am is a long time for someone shaking and sweating. The worst part was this - I started to clear up a little. I realized what I had done to my friend, friends, family, son, coworkers... and to myself.
I won't say that I got down on my knees and prayed. That would be a lie. But the realization of what I had been doing hit me so hard, I began to cry. I thought, "What have I done??" Without drinking, I realized how much I missed people... and whether or not they thought I was dead or alive. And, again, I thought about that pact and how badly I had violated it. If only, I thought. If only. I thought about AA and the people that I enjoyed meeting every day. I thought about my son growing up without his dad.
So I didn't get on my knees and beg God to save me. But I did look up and I said, "What do I do? I've killed every relationship that I love." I curled up for a minute and thought about someone next to me... long ago. Someone who left me. I remembered every smell and every touch and I knew I had to finally put it away. It was a lonely feeling - nostalgic and lonely. It wasn't the person so much as the abandonment that I went through and how little support I felt I received when she left me... and how I was now transferring it to my other relationships. THAT is when it hit me - there have been so many others to replace the hole that she left, but I had been blind to them. I was so hung in the past, I couldn't see what was in the present. And what was in the present was ALL good. That's the kicker - my life is good. I was killing it quickly.
Now, I have my trust issues with God. I've heard that your relationship with God often depends on your upbringing. Your parents are the ones who form your trust and therefore how spiritual you'll be in life. It can be learned, of course, but it takes time. A basic trust in God comes from your parents. By this time, I did NOT trust in God. Too much had happened and I was mad... angry. I'll never forget my step-dad, an alcoholic himself (who was able to just "put it down"... probably why we don't see eye-to-eye very often, because *I* cannot just "put it down") telling me that I was the angriest person he'd ever met. Thanks, "dad". But he was right. I couldn't drop my anger...
Based on that, you can debate God's hand in what happened next. Maybe it was God. Maybe it was self-will (though, self-will hadn't gotten me too far!). I got up. Rather than stay curled up, remembering what was, I took a look at "what is". I swung my feet over the bed, picked up the motel phone and listened for a dial tone. I hung up. Then I picked it up again... this time I dialed '9'. I hung up. I kept looking up, asking "What do I do??" I picked it up a third time and dialed "91". I hung up. I'm serious... I hung up again. And then it clicked in my head. I had this feeling inside that if I waited until 9am and repeated the same routine, my life was over. So I picked the phone up a fourth time and dialed '911'... and hung up. God, Buddha, Aidan - somebody got a bead on me this time and the phone rang back. It was the 911 operator asking for my emergency and exact location. There was no escaping this time. That was at 4:55am two weeks ago today.
While I might be struggling with my emotions and the pain I caused others, I know that someone's got my back. I even thought maybe it was my grandmother, looking down and telling me that she didn't want me yet. Maybe it was the fact that I had a friend drive by that motel every day, looking for my car, transferring some faith that I'd make it out alive. I have no idea. But by 5:15am, I was in the emergency room and I specifically remember telling the doctor, "I don't want to hurt anyone else ever again." To which she replied, "So you feel like hurting someone or yourself?" I said, "No. I don't want to cause anyone more pain."
I can't promise anyone that it won't happen again, because that's not how alcoholism works. But I can tell you this - I knocked on God's door as loudly as I could early that morning. I was crawling into the fire, yet found the strength to reach up and pound on that fucking gate. I realized that I had been knocking, softly, because I was too embarrassed to accept the help I needed. This time, I had to break down that door...
Two weeks sober. This time, I'll try to keep knocking.
"Gotta Knock a Little Harder"
Happiness is just a word to me
And it might have meant a thing or two
If I'd known the difference
Emptiness, a lonely parody
And my life, another smokin' gun
A sign of my indifference
Always keepin' safe inside
Where no one ever had a chance
To penetrate a break in
Let me tell you some have tried
But I would slam the door so tight
That they could never get in
Kept my cool under lock and key
And I never shed a tear
Another sign of my condition
Fear of love or bitter vanity
That kept me on the run
The main events at my confession
I kept a chain upon my door
That would shake the shame of Cain
Into a blind submission
The burning ghost without a name
Was still calling all the same
But I wouldn't listen
The longer I'd stall
The further I'd crawl
The further I'd crawl
The harder I'd fall
I was crawlin' into the fire
The more that I saw
The further I'd fall
The further I'd fall
The lower I'd crawl
I kept fallin' into the fire
Suddenly it occurred to me
The reason for the run and hide
Had totaled my existence
Everything left on the other side
Could never be much worse than this
But could I go the distance?
I faced the door and all my shame
Tearin' off each piece of chain
Until they all were broken
But no matter how I tried
The other side was locked so tight
That door, it wouldn't open
Gave it all that I got
And started to knock
Shouted for someone
To open the lock
I just gotta get through the door
And the more that I knocked
The hotter I got
The hotter I got
The harder I'd knock
I just gotta break through the door
Gotta knock a little harder
Break through the door
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