- Alcohol
Submitted by: Susanne Johnson
I identify as an alcoholic. Alcohol was king at one point, but it wasn’t how it started, and it didn’t rule my entire life. Older friends introduced me to marijuana when I was 8 years old. My childhood wasn’t easy and when I found weed, I thought I had instantly I found a way that I could tolerate my life. Everything progressed into a stage where my drug of choice was MORE: more drugs, more booze, more gambling, more sex, more shopping… more everything.
Alcohol came into my life by the time I was 12, and pills started at age 16. I had 45 surgeries when I was age 16 because I had really bad knees and other problems. I never bought my pills from the street, and I never stole them or got them through friends. I was legally prescribed an insane amount of pain medicine in my young life. Some of these prescriptions were for legitimate medical conditions, but I also had my fair share of accidents in life.
I gave up illegal drugs once my daughter was born in 1996. I thought at that point in my life, that since I had become a father, I would have to clean up my act, straighten out, and start a different life. That never stopped the pills, which I was legally prescribed and needed—and it never stopped the alcohol, either.
When I went to a 12-step program for the first time, I didn’t really want to work the program, but reading the Big Book, I found myself in the back, in one of the stories, called “Doctor Alcoholic Addict”. I was highly functional, never had a DUI, never had a conviction, never took illegal pills, yet the doctors gave me enough to kill an elephant. I never lost a job, had amazing careers in different fields, and I never lost family or friends over my addiction. What got me was that I literally lost my life over the addictions.
In 2003, I was on duty with the sheriff’s department and got an injury that lead to a nerve disease, complex regional pain syndrome (CRPS), one of the most painful diseases known to medicine. I was told that I would never ever work a day in my life again, instead would live in excruciating physical agony. I was told, that all they could do for me is to medicate me enough for me to live somewhat comfortably. What followed were seven years of living in hell on Earth. I was not supposed to drink with this medication, but it was my only way to escape this misery at least once in a while. When having alcohol, I found my ‘manna from heaven’, that shut my crazy off’, let me laugh, and let me forget all the problems, emotions, and misery of my life. I could forget my disease and was not losing my mind in pain.
In 2009, I had a hip and knee replacement, which kept me in the hospitals for a long time. I haven’t had a drink for over two years at that time, but was on insane amounts of medication. One day at my mother’s home, I found myself snapping, and was sure it was caused by one particular medication and stopped it. I replaced it with about 1.5 gallons of high-proof rum daily. First I thought it was all working fine, until it ended in a psychotic break, where a neighbor called the cops on me. They found me screaming in the backyard and I was arrested. My first memory of all of that was waking up in a padded cell, not knowing how or why I got there. A lawyer and my family got me out of it, and I had already agreed to go to rehab. It took 13 days to find a facility that was willing to take me.
At first I was really puzzled by how people greeted me with friendly hugs at the facility. I thought, “Where am I? People on my planet don’t behave that way.” Still, I remained open-minded to the things coming. I was willing to try new things that I had never done before because I wanted something that I never had before, which was sobriety. That attitude served me well.
A panel came to the treatment facility to lead group meetings, and later, my sober living program worked with local 12-step programs. Meetings helped me transition into everyday life.
After my return home, after three month of sober living, I signed up directly to serve on the Hospitals & Institutions committee of the fellowship and my first speaking assignment lead me to a halfway house in the Inglewood district of Los Angeles. I was scared at first, as that was not a neighborhood or audience I could identify with, but I felt so proud once I was done that I still speak to this day.
I will have this painful nerve disease all my life. There will be always meds that I have to take. I just try not to take anything that could make me high or drunk. All the meds I was on for so many years were not meant to be for long-term use. It actually made my pain worse by lowering the threshold and upping my tolerance. Instead of living with pain between 8-10 (on the scale of 1-10, with ten being the worst pain), I live today somewhere on a pain level from between 2-4. After my life experiences, I hardly count that as true pain, just an annoyance. I have my flare-ups, which occasionally give me a trip to the ER, but for the most part I can live and function normally.
I used to always look to see if any of my actions could offer a direct or indirect benefit for me before I would do anything for anyone else. Now I only think how I can help, and how I can be of service. I’m involved in building a program to bridge the gap between jail and recovery treatment. People can call a phone number and we will match them with a volunteer in the city where they plan to live, and that volunteer will take them to meetings.
I stay very active in my recovery. I go almost daily to meetings, speak several times a month and try to pass the message to as many as possible. I never get to own my sobriety. It is rented and the rent is due every day. I have to do something every day to further my sobriety.
One of the counselors at treatment told me, “If you do these 12-Steps very thoroughly, you won’t ever have to get loaded again, even if you want to.” At the time, it didn’t make much sense to me, but today I see the truth in it and want to give that as advise to others who are at the beginning of their journey.