The Importance of This Day!

Nine Years Ago...Nine years! If you're 18-21 that seems like a lifetime. 30 and upward thats a snap of the finger. In any event, to borrow from Newton's Third Law (an object at rest remains at rest unless acted upon by an unbalanced force. An object in motion remains in motion...in a straight line at constant speed...unless acted upon by an unbalanced force.) it was at precisely the time I began this post I had a little come-to-Jesus with life, truth, and the pursuit of freedom.

1997 my marriage was shot. I had no business being married, worked like a fiend, had few friends, except for a bottle, and boy could I medicate with Rumpleminze and Guinness. Heavily! Add to that some gambling and two hours of sleep and what you end up with is a recipe for disaster in the name of a miracle.

Making a three hour trip to see the soon to be ex in the city where she worked and played, amongst friends who still wanted to see us together, with her current steady (married to someone else BTW) in retrospect was a little too much to handle. I was now a city slicker in Seattle, not smalltown. I had no time for this appearance game. I visited because even after all the fights and arguments things could be amicable. It took a long time to get there but that's another topic for another time.

The fact is I had no business going out and drinking and driving on this night in 1997. You know the old saying 'You will always go back to the last place you felt comfortable?' Well for me that meant a quick little stop off at my old drinking haunt two miles from home. The place where I used to bartend...Dennis was there, and I did what two 30 somethings do when it's 1 am...I stuck my head back and made sure the tap was aimed right at my mouth. Oh yeah, Guinness heaven was about to become Godly Hell...

Have you ever tried to fill a bottomless hole? You can't! That is the mechanism most alcoholics will never fathom when realizing there's a problem. For almost 20 years, I was proving Sir Isaac Newton right with my behavior. Sometimes funny, sometimes just plain embarrassing. I was 33 at the time and I was miserable. Something was wrong, something had to change. The unbalanced force was about to arrive in the form of a DUI...In my mind however I was hoping the blonde female cop was dyslexic...I didn't get the IUD.

I remember it was after 2am...I should have just gone home. To that place where I spent five years as a married individual. Once you know things don't work out, you find ways to avoid the unlikable. You find avenues to divert. Again the wrong plan of action to take. I look back now and realize how lucky I am I didn't get into an accident or hurt someone. In my mind however I had a plan to go get breakfast and 'medicate' some more. Thankfully I made an illegal left turn and the lights flashed behind me...

Irony of ironies. I was pulled over less than 3 miles from my old home, a block from where I worked, half from where I gambled when depressed, and two blocks from my first radio gig. It's a surreal feeling when you know you are in a world of trouble and lights are flashing all around and there is no K-Mart blue light special in place...The cuffs were tight around my wrists yet I felt a strange peace...all would be okay. This was an intervention!

The officer was doing his job. I was polite and respectful. Yes I was inebriated, yes I blew into the blower, yes I made an attempt to balance a leg in the air. Even sober that is hard to do. While all the questions were going on, I was having a moment of clarity. 'This is happening for a reason.' After 20 minutes or so I was placed in the back of the police car...

Five minutes later, I was given a break. Apparently in small town USA people feel the need to call out a cop, say the word 'pig', spit, curse, make a situation worse. My first thought was about explaining this to my boss in Seattle three hours away if I was jailed overnight. Having to tell the ex about this...Do I get a lawyer? Ooooooh, Boy! Now what?

Well, Will, it could have been worse. What if that left turn was legal? What if you inflicted bodily harm on someone? What if you O'D'd and died? What if you just stopped drinking? What if...huh? Stop drinking? There's just no way...

After four hours of sleep I walked into downtown to get my car and drove back to Seattle, embarrassed, tired, hungover, and emotionally spent. In two more weeks I would reach my bottom. I haven't shared this story yet, so I'll wait for another time.

The wheels were set in motion. I had a problem, didn't know how to face it. In between time missed at work from the boozing, late nights gambling, lack of self respect for myself, and constant interventions from coworkers, I knew that a change was gonna come. I decided that if it took dignity to have a problem then I knew it would take dignity to make right...with the courts and myself!

In Texas the term is referred to as 'deferred adjudication', In Washington State it's 'deferred prosecution'. In laymans terms if a DUI is your first time offense, you have a one shot chance to never be charged if you successfully complete two years of treatment and meetings. Let me tell you, the states do not give a flying fuck about how much you are inconvenienced either! I was first told to get a lawyer...

This is a funny albeit sad sidestory. I go see a lawyer and the first sight I see is a pregnant secretary and a poorly dressed guy walking around his office barefoot! This clown wanted to charge me 3 grand for his 'services'. He also called 'deferred' as 'dealing with devil'. I got mad and said, 'Did the devil get her pregnant?' I stomped on out of there.

Then there was the assessment of my degree of alcoholism by some doctor who spoke fire and brimstone, a real jerk who made his mind up about you before you even spoke. I played along. Stubborn as I am I knew I'd fight the law legally and win.

Six weeks later I was off on another three hour drive to make a court date. As my name was called I walked up to the podium and simply said, 'Your Honor, I know what I have to do, and I sure don't need a lawyer to do this either!' The judge smiled and said' Granted'.

Two years of one's life seems like an awful long time to make right, to make restitution. In retrospect, it was the greatest awakening I could have asked for. Outpatient treatment consisted of three hour classes three times a week for six months, reduced to one hour one on one's with a counselor for the next six.

Year two was once a week group meetings for six months, then once a month. In between all that were mandatory AA meetings three times a week. Many cheated, I played it straight. The once a month drive to visit a probation officer was a pain but after a year I just had to call in.

The change...man the change! It's amazing what can happen when you own up to your anger, your baggage, your flaws, your ego, your pride, you name it. I almost liken it to being in boot camp, being broken down from what you were and being reshaped into what you were to become as an individual and as a human being. I still feel the emotional nails on the blackboard when I think back.

Two years passed and the charge was dropped. On September 12th 2006 it will be nine years since I had that last drink. I have no illusions about believing that I have one left in me. I don't. That cop who stopped me didn't have to be there when I made that illegal left turn, but he was. I seriously doubt I would be alive if the officer wasn't. That makes me lucky. Numbers do not lie. Only 1 in 10 avoid the relapse. I hope to be that one, now and until my dying day.

This was my story, all of it true. If you are at a point where the old ways aren't making you happy, consider a change. If not may God bless you with a similar wake up call...Sobriety, for some can be a good thing!

Over and out in Big D

Mr Will