- Alcohol
- Drugs
I first got drunk at seven years of age when I helped myself to a cask of wine in my parents garage on New Year’s Eve. I consumed three liters of the four-liter cask and afterward I spewed everywhere in the house and on my parents’ guests. My dad stuck me in a cold shower and tied me to the clothesline to try and walk it off before he took me to hospital where they pumped my stomach.
I loved the feeling of the world spinning that much, and I took every opportunity to consume alcohol after that. By the time I was 12 years old, I was smoking pot, consuming asthma sprays, sniffing lighter fluid and petrol and getting drunk. The reason for this was that at age nine, I was sexually abused by a boy four or five years my senior. I didn’t know any better, and I was told that this was love. My parents worked two jobs, and my dad had just joined the police force so there were no signs of love in the family home. I didn’t know what love was.
I first heard the word “poof” at age 11 although I’m not gay by any means. By age 15 I was selling huge amounts of drugs to support my habit of using pot, speed, trips, pills, cocaine and alcohol. I should have four or five houses by now for the amount of drugs I sold, but, like they say, easy come easy go. I dropped out of school at age 15, and this outraged my parents. I moved out of the family home at 16 and lived with people who drank and drugged the way I liked to. This didn’t last, as I became unpredictable and dangerous.
I lived between sanity an insanity for about nine years. I spent a lot of time in police custody, on the streets and in the family home until they could no longer put up with me. I knew I had to do something about my life so I married a woman. After two children were bought into this terrible world of mine, I was abusive to her. She left me four times, but she came back. I had been sober for about 18 months when we got married, and by the time I was six and a half years sober, her true colors came out. She was a control freak, and men before me had bashed her and raped her. I was only verbally abusive. I learned that she was cheating on me while I was at work. I worked 90-hour weeks driving semis, and I gave her my wage of $2000 a week.
During my sobriety I became the secretary of a group and opened the doors every Thursday night for three years, but I was getting tired and asked the group to choose a new secretary. No one stepped up. My wife had been telling me I didn’t need 12-step support anymore and that she thought I would be okay if I stopped going to meetings provided I didn’t do any drugs. I stayed sober for a while longer but stopped going to meetings. After about six months, I picked up a drink at a work Christmas party. It was okay at first until I found out more about my wife’s cheating and what she was doing with the money I worked hard to provide.
I started to drink more and spend less time at home. I would stay at friends’ places or the factory I was driving for. My wife accused me of cheating and threatened divorce. I said, “Okay,” and signed the papers. She submitted and withdrew them three times. The fighting was getting out of hand, and I’d been arrested more times than I care to remember by this time. Her plan was to have me arrested and jailed or confined to another psychiatric house.
I put the divorce papers through myself, got her out of my life for good and drank harder than ever. My parents were concerned that I had a problem again, and they thought I might attempt to take my life again. I owe my life today to my brother who cut the rope when I first attempted suicide. I thought I was okay drinking with no drug use, but the police cells and silver bracelets became familiar, and I saw my problem: the drink and a lifetime of bottled-up emotions. I got a glimpse of them when I was 25 years old and did the first 3 months of a 10-month rehabilitation program. I couldn’t handle it.
I managed to stay sober and clean for six and a half years before I busted. I put everything down on September 15, 1996. I drank again on Christmas 2003. My new sobriety date is February 12, 2007. I’m still sober today one day at a time. I’ve completed four personal development courses to help me deal with my emotional issues and to learn why and how I tick. It was a hard road to travel, but my life is so far from where it use to be. I’ve rekindled a relationship with my high school sweetheart who has her own history of addiction. We have been together three years. She is clean and serene now, and I’m looking forward to a new life with my soul mate.
I had to learn a lot. Simple things help me today. Meetings and sober people provide support. Fishing gives me head space and provides nice meals. What anyone thinks of me is none of my business. Acceptance is a key to life.
Stay safe, be seen.