Seven out of Ten
If I could sum up the last few years of my drinking days, it would be that I completely lost my identity. Before that, I was a husband, a father, a brother and a son. I had a great job.
For years I worked in an electronics store and an opportunity came up to join a team of engineers repairing computers all over the country. I got the job! For training they sent me to a hotel in Aberdour for a week, working along with another engineer who showed me the ropes. They gave me a car. I remember there was such a sense of freedom in working out in the field and I was good at it. In time the company grew, and I was sent to London, Ireland, Paris and the Scottish islands to work. It was great fun.
There was, however, a problem and I’m sure you’re ahead of me here. The ‘Rapacious Creditor’ alcohol was taking – like it always does for alcoholics. My wife left, taking my two young children with her. That was horrible. My family had suddenly been destroyed. My children had been wrenched away, just like that, and there was nothing I could do about it. My little daughter gave me a note which said “Daddy, we know you are sad. We are sad too”.
No longer a husband. Still a father, sort of.
Over the next few years my drinking really spiralled. It was now every day, morning and evening. My life was getting smaller and smaller. I lost interest in everything, could no longer see the value in anything. I kept going in the job, but eventually my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t work.
I remember being on the Corran Ferry on a beautiful but cold day. It was windy and I was wearing the only coat I had left. It was a thin company thing; the fleece lining had long gone. I looked around at the sunshine sparkling on the water and I all I could feel was fear, selfpity and self-loathing.
No more great job.
Those are just a couple of the biggest things that I lost, but there were a hundred others. In the end I came to AA with no idea of who I was, what I liked or why I was here. They had a list of promises which seemed to sum up everything that was missing in my life. They talked about having a life beyond your wildest dreams. I didn’t understand that at all, but in my experience, it’s true. If the last 10 years were about losing my identity, the years of recovery have been about building a new one. Coming back to life.
This happened gradually. Actually, it’s still happening. My part was to do what was suggested and stay close to AA. I did, and my life began to change. The meetings were absolutely crucial. I was “loved back to life”. That’s not a cheesy line, it’s one hundred percent true. I learned to accept what I couldn’t change regarding my children. This has really helped in making the most of the time I have with them. I got out of debt, rediscovered books, music and travel, visiting cities I had ever only read about.
It’s not perfect by any means. I would give it seven out of ten, but now I have a degree of stability (dare I say serenity) in my life. I’m back, but I’m different. This can be disconcerting sometimes, but when it is, I just smile.
Deep in the black hole of alcoholic despair these things really were beyond my wildest dreams, but they happened for me. They can happen for you too. Turns out, my wildest dreams were not about fast cars and big houses but appreciating what the important things in life actually are and finding a place in it. Wanting what I have, if you like.
Many, many thanks to AA and all those who in a million small ways, gave me my life back.
Anonymous