Alcohol was My Ball and Chain

I am a man of no reputation to speak of; I am a man who has lived a life filled with physical pain, hardship and heartache because of the cause and effect of his actions against himself and others. All I have ever known was a day-to-day existence that was focused on my self-centered needs and my relationship and dependency on alcohol. Sure, I had a good heart, as many drunks do, but it just was not enough to save me from the claws of Satan. He reached out and snatched my life from me and veiled me in an evil existence consumed by alcohol and drug abuse and all the trimmings.

There comes a point in an individual’s life were you walk into the light of your life, experiencing a world that is fully illuminated in all facets and that is created just for you. Some prefer to stay in the gray area of life dabbling back and forth into the good and bad side of it all. The slighter of these two choices is the vicious corner into eternal darkness that separates you from civilized humanity and spawns a life in the underworld into the never-ending abyss. At this moment in my life I share with you that choice, only told to you through the grace of divine supernatural intervention by God. I share with you my testimony of death to life. My name is Giovanni B., alcoholic recovering through the hand of God and the prayers and love of others.

As life naturally progresses for a man who has reached forty years of age, the vast majority of men in this category should be well-established citizens of this world. A solid career and a family, maybe well established with a child just around the corner or in the making. I was not even in the ballpark. I had a few wonderful chances at love with wonderful women, but due to my many character defects that I failed to recognize at the time and address, love simply slipped through my fingertips. It was in my grasp to fulfill a complete life that would always be lacking as I was not ready to live yet. Besides how could I take care and sustain the responsibility for another human being when it was a struggle just to love, take care and sustain myself. I continually replaced the feeling and process of falling in love by self-medicating with alcohol, primarily, and available drugs. It was a path I chose to follow of my own free will that was not really mine because my life did not belong to me. I was not the captain of my ship, but I was a slave in the bowels of the ship being whipped as I rowed the boat into dangerous uncharted territory.

For twenty of my forty years on this earth my companion was alcohol, the fuel that would propel me through my day. My life was a daily exercise in this practice that took no practice at all, for I was skilled at it from the start when I started to drink at eighteen years of age. I believe it was in my DNA because there was a line of notorious drinkers in my family tree. I lived in a fantasy world amplified by the highs and lows of alcohol and drugs.

The spirit that connected me to the harmonic pulse of this earth had left my body by the age of thirty and had been replaced by the chemical substances that I chose to consume. I was under the impression that it made me a more appealing or desirable person to the public, but really all I wanted to do, and all it did, was turn me into someone that I thought I could love because I did not love myself as I was as. I didn’t have a clue or the curiosity to want to know who I really was without drugs or alcohol. God was not even in the ballpark. I had evolved into the species known as selfish addict. The next ten years from age thirty to forty were to be the most brutal for me. Alcohol carved and forged true paths of craving that led to complete addiction during these years. This is what my lifestyle had evolved into. There was never enough. There was no sacrifice to be without my associate; for you become a coward to the mental and physical pain of real life to do without your substance, and you somehow find a dishonest way to accommodate yourself through theft and deceit.

My self-esteem was a false threshold that I poked holes in daily and it had taken a seat on the bench as I acted out my life without it. A revolver loaded with one bullet that had not yet fired into my heart waited in the chamber with a finger on the trigger.

I was addicted to alcohol. It was waiting for me everywhere at liquor stores, at anyone’s house (if they would have me), and, if necessary, even steal the substance. Alcohol was my ball and chain, and was the noose around my neck that got tighter every day. The liquid was my passport to escape every night, but the best thing about the deep substance was that I knew it would take me anywhere I wanted to go. When my song was playing, we took a walk down memory lane and I remembered a time that seemed to be a little more pleasant than the space where I was currently residing. When I was hurting and feeling lonely, alcohol held me tight in her imaginary arms and let me feel her love as the liquid poison warmed my cold heart. Alcohol always tucked me in if necessary or knocked me out, then transported me into a world of darkness that has nothing to do with this one, the real one that we live in. When the night had passed and all that it contained had been consumed alcohol did not leave me. Alcohol was kind not even let remember one embarrassing moment that had occurred the night before. How kind alcohol was, it always kept me wandering in the black abyss for my psychological benefit. She was a mystery waiting to kill me or to be conquered against all odds.

All of the emotions, the thoughts I had, the embarrassment I placed myself in, the pain of abandonment from others that always followed, and my thoughts of grandeur that made it all seem sane always resulted to a fade to black as day always turned into night. Time had no measure in my life. The only commitment that we ever had was to spend our days together, for I needed it physically to sustain my body. Therefore, we were companions every night for the past twenty years and I loved the relationship we had for its obedience, because there was never a conflict. My obsession’s name was death, and my name is Giovanni and we had a relationship. We had a date with destiny.

Living this life of isolation, realizing the many burned bridges that cannot be crossed or mended with family or personal relationships had brought me to the white sandy beaches of Panama City, Florida. I was a man with no family to speak of in any warm, loving regard. My friendships over the past years had all disintegrated into faint memories that brought head shaking shame to my hollow mind. My family had all but discarded me and ran for cover to the hills of peace and prosperity. They had locked their doors to me and changed their phone numbers too many times for me to remember; for Giovanni, the poisonous addict was the black sheep and he would not taint the lives of the people who rightfully desired peace and harmony in their lives. The abandonment hurt me deeply then but as I realize today it was the best scenario for all people involved. I was a man without a birthday or a Christmas to be celebrated. I was dead to the world I once knew as a young man with a promising life that I thought I was going to lead as a great chef in the kitchens of the great metropolitan cities of America. My heart was torn into shreds on days when reality set in for the moment because of the position I had put myself in and seemed out of control and beyond repair. Never the less, with a full heart of disdain for this life I continued to walk down my path of destruction hoping for a swift end to this thing that was yet to be called life. As I wait, oh I wait!

Many years have passed and many bottles have been consumed. I decided to change my geographical location to my home in Italy where my father had retired. I amuse myself with the Idea of getting some European experience under my culinary belt the year is 1998. This was the first time in my life that someone spoke out and heard my cry for help. His name was Loris B., my owner at a restaurant in my home town. He introduced me to the thought of sobriety and explained to me the timeless concept of “La Bella Vita,” or “living the beautiful life.” I listened and participated in his life changing program that included Atabuse, the alcohol deterrent medication. I took it and put together some blocks of sobriety time that was forced fed. As a good drunk, I drank every chance I got between blocks and was found to be hopeless without it. I was quickly put back on the program that kept my unique culinary skills available to me and to the restaurant, which gave me the experience and fellowship that I so desperately needed after all those years of isolation.

My Father passed away and left me with a false sense of freedom. I left Italy and headed for New York with what I thought was a clean slate. The truth was the devil had just used an eraser to clear the chalk board for lesson number one. Within one month’s time I found myself in my first detox center due to alcohol poisoning. I was rescued and flown down to Georgia by my uncle, who later in this story would direct me to my first place of refuge in downtown Atlanta. I was a vagabond during this period in my life, the year is 2003.

My mother was a southern belle from Columbus, GA. I had many cousins rooted in the area of Atlanta that had not really been exposed to my alcoholism. They had embraced me after many years of absence from their lives. They knew there was a slight problem but did not know the depths of it. I joined forces with my cousin Nick who liked to drink and headed down to Panama City, Florida on spring break. Destiny was about to unfold for me.

I was about to find myself in a position where all of my actions over the years would come to a collision point with my Creator, who I believe had seen enough. He had seen my tears and hopelessness over the years and was about to configure a prime window for me to surrender my life into. My time was up and I was about to be introduced to my one true Father that had been saving my life during all of my years in addiction. I was wanted dead or alive by a man who was very dangerous in Panama City. It seems that I had double crossed him as I had made some bad choices under the complete influence of alcohol due to my dependency. When I first met him, he saw how I was drinking with reckless abandon. He said to me something I will never forget, “You’re going to wind up in rehab, man”. Well he was right. I managed to get on a Greyhound bus one early morning and slip out of town, unharmed, and headed for Atlanta where my uncle was supposed to be waiting for me at the station. Bobby had got on the phone with my uncle in Atlanta and explained the whole story to him. My uncle had tried to help me in the past and was disappointed that I was not accepting the fact that I was an alcoholic. My family had tried in so many ways but as we know it is I that must make that decision when enough is enough.

When I arrived in Atlanta after a long bus ride there was not a soul to greet me. I called my uncle and he gave me the bottom line. I had to find help on my own. It was June, he said, the weather was nice and warm and I was downtown. There were many homeless shelters in the area and I was to man up and find my way to recovery. With nothing but the internal will to carry on I made my way to rehab center. I surrendered my life to Christ and began a journey of recovery and Faith. Ten months later I found myself ten months sober and with a certificate of competition from my first program.

Life began for me again. The only thing that was different about me was I had an obsession with Christ. His life was a life that I wanted to know everything about. He is the first and only reality that still stands today in my life as paramount. He is so real and continues to prove it every day as He intercedes for me with boundless love and protection.

I came to the mind blowing revelation that I was someone and I was loved. My Father was the King of the universe and He adopted me as His son and that was massive to me, that God and Christ wanted to be a part of my life to help me and protect me so I could get home. And I no longer had to fight this demon on my own anymore. They wanted to lead me and counsel me, to help me. I am still proud today of this realism. But let me tell you the reality when you turn your life inside out and make a complete directional shift in mind, heart, body and soul toward his purpose. Meaning you sell out to God, that is when Satan will come after you with everything he’s got to destroy you, and that is what he just did and still continues to do today.

Since that day on multiple occasions over next ten years I would relapse. I would put a block of sobriety together of two years, and then fall hard as I would break due to a breach in my wall. Eighteen months of sobriety and the enemy finds another breech in my wall and strikes. Many times I had been found lifeless during these attacks that lead to hopeless drinking binges that would last for weeks. On my own now, everything surrounding me life, work, groups would collapse. I would be found, which was a miracle, because I did not want to be found. This was the beginning of my enthrallment with death. I wanted to go home and be with my Father, this world did not appeal to me and had nothing for me. A stranger or a family member or friend always was directed in my wretched path by a guardian angel who told them where I was, it seemed based on their testimony that I received later. I was rushed to the emergency room for urgent care due to alcohol poisoning. My blood-alcohol levels would range from 5.0 to 9.0 on these grave moments of life or death. That’s five to ten times higher than the legal limit of 1.0. 8.0 percent is considered to be lights out you’re dead by medical standards. Detox centers would be the next stop and a psychological evaluation would follow during a ten day stay. My family was a bit more tolerant during these episodes because they saw that I was trying, they were compassionate as they saw and lived my effort.

Nevertheless after all the counseling sessions, meetings and miracles I continued to play Russian Roulette with my life, waiting for the end or the beginning of the end to come. My family once again intervened and sent me off to a proper rehab center in Atlanta. My aunt, Carole, would pay for this top notch program that would cost in the thousands, because I could not manage my life on my own and I was not working. This would be my third program in my battle with alcohol in a ten year period.

I finished the three month program that was focused on the philological aspect of my disease, not the spiritual which was my foundation all these years. I had a two-week jail sentence to honor due to the DUI that came along with my last relapse. I left jail after the 14 days feeling unsettled. I wanted to ready myself and to get on with it to see what God had in store for me and my future. So I went through the paces of trying to find a job close to home because my license was suspended. The economy was bad and times were tough during the last great depression of 2008, businesses were not hiring life was difficult as we know and still is. I found myself in a constant state of hopelessness once again and did not have the Armor of God or courage to defend myself against Satan and his demons as they came in for the kill. One thing I do remember that is significant is I was told by a friend of mine at my church in Gainesville, GA, “When you finish this program and your jail time, a little time will pass, then the enemy Satan is going to give you a one two shot like you have never felt before in your life. I hope you will have what it takes to fight and to take the blow because he is going to finish you off once and for all. The only way that you will survive is through intersession. Will Christ intercede and take the hit that is rightfully yours? If there is purpose for your life to serve Christ and his burdens He will intercede. This is not over just yet, time will tell he said, God Bless you and your path.”

As was predicted I found myself under severe satanic attack. The devil came at me from all directions, mentally, physically, carnally. My mind was the battlefield and it was not prepared for war. I began to spiral deeper and deeper into darkness and isolation and lies and denial. I began to think and plot different ways to end my life. I knew in order to do this I would have to saturate myself with large volumes of alcohol that would be the catalyst that would propel me into further darkness and would make it easy for me to commit suicide and leave this world once and for all. So I began to saturate my mind with alcohol and make plans for my exit. My reason for doing this was I felt like I was a burden to my family. I had lost my identity and integrity as a Christian and a man due to the choices I had made through relapse that had seemed to be so heavily compounded on my conscious that led me to this severe point of no return. I was being sold a lie and I was buying it!

On the third week of May, 2009, I was planning to leave this world. I wanted to suffer in the many ways as my mother did as she lost her life to cancer just before I would take my final fall. I wanted to feel pain and I wanted to feel discomfort, as close as I would come to death God did not grant me that badge of honor to suffer in that way. God floated me through the experience like I was on a cloud completely protected in so many ways as by his angels. I had left my home confused and saturated with alcohol and for three days prior to taking the pills was on the streets and was at the mercy of the world, wandering, looking for death to overcome me at any turn. After those three days away from home which I do not remember I found myself passed out on my back porch and my Christian neighbor Shane came to wake me on that hot day. He stood above me and was looking over me, then he knelt beside me on the porch and he said, “Do you want to pray with me?” I got up, walked into my house, and prayed a prayer with him. I went to sleep upstairs in my room and woke up in the middle of the night frustrated that I was alive. You see it wasn’t very clear to me as to how I had survived for the last three days. All I knew was that I was back in my home, in my bed, alive. In my despair I swallowed 100 Tylenol extra strength pills and was fully prepared to die. Fourteen hours later, when I had come to the conclusion that I was not going to die but just be terribly sick, I revealed to my aunt as to what I done to myself to finish the final act.

I was rushed to the hospital and the doctors told me, “You just may get your wish because of the time that had elapsed.” The damage was done and irreversible. The toxicants had taken their toll on my liver, and system and was about to shut down completely. The Doctor said, “Your liver is failing, the toxic levels are so high that they are off our charts, and the calibration on our machines can’t measure them. You need a liver transplant and, since you are a suicide case, you are going to be at the bottom of the list, so the odds are more than likely that you are going to die, Giovanni”. I felt a certain kind of relief that it was finally going to be over and I had felt in my heart of hearts I had done the best as I possibly could for my creator, my Lord, my Master, my Father. You see, He knew my story since birth and what I was, what I had become and what I wanted to be for him and for his glory. But, I just did not have the perseverance, strength and supreme allegiance of faith that was required to win this battle. Once again I needed His help, His Intercession!

In the end by the prayers of others who prayed for my healing and in the commission that God has for me, he spared my life and has returned me to 100% complete normal liver function. When I arrived home from the hospital that is when my true restoration took place. I was stripped down to my bare bones as my tears melted away my flesh until there was only a beating heart waiting to be filled with the burdens of Christ and my fellow brothers and sisters in recovery.

There is a great pastor who touched my life like no other and restored me from that very fragile state that I was in. His strength in ministry is to ignite the flame and passion for the lost souls of this world…he gave me my flame of the Holy Spirit. He gave me a new foundation; he gave me a foundation of principles and new strength that put me on my new path. Never the less as God tells me to worry about today… today’s worries are sufficient, just another way of saying one day at a time.

Five years have passed and my passion for recovery has been reignited by my partner Katie so much that we have joined together to create a Face Book page called Brothers of Serenity and Sobriety. Life is once again full of hope and humility as I could not have done this on my own. It is only through the grace of God and the people like Katie and my sister Natalia and, most of all, my aunt Carole that He has put me on my path once again and given me strength and with only his grace may I continue to carry on in his name.

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