Alcohol Recovery Stories

I had been high for almost three weeks straight. Unless I was sleeping or en-route to the dope man’s house, I was high. If I wasn’t high, I was absolutely miserable. I’m going to skip all the back story; for a 36 year old guy, I had been stuck in a revolving cycle, with addiction ruining me every single time. This had been going on for 20 years. Now, I was screwed. People wanted to kill me and not just one person. Three. I was homeless, broken and wanted by the police for almost a dozen charges, half of which were felonies, all from one situation in which I had been entrusted to do the right thing. Instead, I robbed them blind.

Not having quite literally anywhere to go, anything to do, nowhere to sleep, no food to eat, water to quench my dying thirst, or anyone I could call, I was feeling really hopeless. There was not one available resource for those in need, and I could not find anywhere for me to lay low and try to carry on using. All the shelters were full and I could not be seen on the street. Not one person, family or friend, wanted to speak to me or deal with me. They’d stopped answering their phone the first week I relapsed. I was about to break down mentally and physically.

It was all sinking in, my world closing in on top of me. In spite of all the issues, I was so thirsty and had the worst cotton mouth from the drugs; it was hard to even swallow. Thankfully, about to choke on my tongue from thirst, I found a bottle of what was hopefully clean water on the ground, next to a trash dumpster. So, I picked it up. Since I had spent all my money on drugs, why not. It was par for the day. I drank it all.

Addiction is never just one thing.

It’s not just the positive presence of a problem, but also the negative absence of some human necessities.

A lack of security.

A lack of self-esteem.

A lack of dignity.

If we are happy in ourselves and with our place in the world and before others, addiction can be less of a temptation.

But it we’re not on solid ground, addiction can be truly devastating…

So like all sobering stories, let’s go back to the beginning!

I grew up during the Troubles, in Northern Ireland.

Some of my earliest memories are a constant deluge of disturbing news on the TV.

So consumed was my consciousness with this conflict in my early years, that often enough, when watching newsreaders on the television, I was scared that a terrorist might burst in and start shooting them…

Irish Republican and Ulster Loyalist terrorists, of course, were known for their unpredictability.

Another early memory of mine, which is more of a general ‘archetype’ or ‘model’ than any specific instance, is when there were emergency checks run by the army, which occurred whenever there was suspicion a terrorist attack was about to occur.

While it’s hard to blame the authorities for doing whatever was needed to keep people safe, and true blame lies with the terrorist organizations, it was certainly very frightening for a young child to have the family car stopped by armed soldiers, asking who we were and where we were going.