- Alcohol
- Drugs
- Faith
My name is Carl H., and I am an alcoholic in recovery. This is where I have been, where I am and where I hope to be. I have three older sisters and am the youngest and only boy. My mother was an alcoholic, as her mother and grandmother were. These were “good” alcoholics who were hard-working, loving people with an addiction that was never faced. I was similar. I was hard working, loving and loyal. The difference between me and them was I was on a self-destructive path.
I was introduced to alcohol at an early age. I loved the taste of beer and still do. The fall of 1980 was my senior year of high school. I was a standout on the soccer team but started hanging out with some people that drank on a regular basis, four or more times a week. We had beers after practice, beers after games and beers every weekend. I was also introduced to mushrooms, mescaline and amphetamines. It didn’t take much to rock my world at first, and I loved the effect of everything.
After high school I went to prep school in Maine for a year. I smoked weed there on a regular basis and managed to get suspended for alcohol use and would have been expelled for a second offense, if a friend had not taken the blame. In the fall of 1982 I was off to Franklin Pierce College, and the party began. Cocaine and LSD entered the mix and became two of my favorites. These devils allow you to drink much more than you normally could. Four years of mass alcohol and drug consumption resulted in failure. I never graduated and came back to Rhode Island with an addiction and no degree.
I lived at home for four years after college while mostly just drinking and smoking. My bottom came with a confrontation with my employer. I worked at the same place that my father has worked his entire career. After strike two I gave in and finally admitted I was an alcoholic and this was the time, no more excuses. I went off to rehab which involved ten days in the detox and a three week day program and support group attendance. I finished a fifth of vodka on the way to remember, but a month a half later I was sober.
We were told in the day program that, out of the 21 of us, 3 would truly make it. Am I one of the three? You bet I am! And I continue to be one day at a time. I have been sober for over 22 years. I have dealt with a multitude of things over those 22, and I know if I had not stopped, I would be dead. Instead I am a survivor. I am a father to two very special young men. My oldest son was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy at age nine.
I forgot to tell you why I liked to drink: Escape. Now I am 40 years old, and I have a child with a chronic illness. Know what? There is no escape. You deal with it, and you cry. You cry a lot. You have to let your emotions out, or you will let the devil in. I would be no good to anyone, if I drank. The greatest ally I have is God. Faith is so important, whatever the faith. Never become complacent with your sobriety. You are never truly all right. You are an alcoholic for the rest of your life, but, if you recognize it and kick its ass, you’ll be okay. Because if you don’t kick its ass, it will truly kick yours, right down the drain.
Peace,
Carl H.