My stay with my grandparents didn’t last too long. One night in a blackout, twelve hours after getting my driver’s license, I took my grandparents’ brand-new customized $16,000 van out for a spin. I was picked up for driving while intoxicated and a long list of other charges. My grandparents gave me a choice: jail for grand theft or a rehabilitation center.
So now I was introduced to the Fellowship of AA. Strange indeed are these folks, I thought to myself. But I could relate. I remember that more than anything else. But ready I was not. My mother was now staying sober with the help of AA, and she told my grandparents to let me run my own course with little interference from them — in other words, give me enough rope to hang myself with. And I did. I kept going on binges every couple of months, each one worse than before. Each time I came closer to death.
On my last drunk, I wrecked my car and killed a close drinking buddy of mine. My world crumbled around me. I saw, at last, the horror of alcoholism. I had a decision to make — either commit suicide or surrender to God and AA.
I will soon be one year sober, one day at a time. I’ve been locked up for eight months now and am going to be released soon, with God’s help. Prison life isn’t easy, but it’s where I had to get sober. I can’t escape myself in here. I have to deal with myself — and the Steps are my keys to freedom.
We can all make it, one day at a time.
Anonymous
Ohio
May 1995
Ten Minutes of Oneness
I’M GRATEFUL I MADE IT TO AA when I was twenty-two years old. I felt at the time that I’d lived forty years of hell. I started drinking when I was thirteen, and I blacked out and got sick right from the start. But the way I felt when the alcohol hit me was worth throwing up for. I remember having ten minutes of complete oneness with the world. I was no longer ugly, stupid, or boring, and I could talk about anything. When I wasn’t drinking, I didn’t quite fit in this world.
In the beginning, my drinking was mostly on the weekends, but when I got to high school, alcohol became a number-one priority. At night (with a fake ID), I went to bars to have “a few drinks” and would end up with strange people in strange places, coming out of a blackout and not knowing where I was, how I got there, what day it was, where my car was, if I had money left in my wallet. Any values I’d been given by my parents were annihilated when I put alcohol in my system. Drinking produced heart-wrenching shame and remorse when I was dry and the insanity of thinking that another drink would make the pain go away.
I came to a place in my life where I didn’t care whether I lived or died. Then what I call miracles started happening in my life. In one of my blackouts, I came to at three o’clock in the morning in my parents’ kitchen; two police officers were sitting at the table with me, explaining that I needed to go to the hospital. I had two black eyes, cuts, and bruises — and had no idea what had happened. There was nobody to take me to the hospital, so the officers went through my parents’ address book and picked out someone’s name and called her and asked her if she could take me. The woman who came was one of our neighbors when I was a child and I hadn’t seen her in years. I was checked out by a doctor and was told I’d be okay, but meanwhile, this lady asked me a few questions about my drinking: Did I think I might have a problem with alcohol? I hadn’t really thought about it, but I did the next day when I woke up sick, with my head pounding, barely able to get out of bed. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I was horrified since I couldn’t remember what had happened to me. Then suddenly, while I was looking in the mirror, I had my first clear thoughts about drinking: how every time I started drinking, I ended up in trouble, that it was getting worse, and I always ended up drunk.
Through a few other small miracles, I went to my first AA meeting that night. My first reaction was that I was too young to be an alcoholic. I certainly hadn’t lost my family, home, husband, etc. — because I’d never had those things in the first place. I hadn’t been in jail, and I had no drunk-driving arrests — police officers used to escort me home or to a coffee shop.
However, at that first meeting, I listened to a woman sharing about how she felt. I couldn’t believe that someone felt as I did — different, shy, ashamed, full of guilt and remorse. I was terrified in that meeting, but when it was over I realized I had nothing to lose by checking out AA for a while. I was told to go to ninety meetings in ninety days, and if I didn’t like what AA had to offer, I could go back to the misery of my drinking. I was also told not to pick up that first drink because that’s the one that would get me drunk. What a profound statement that was. I thought about it for days, trying to figure it out!
I was full of fear in those first few weeks and wouldn’t raise my hand to speak. I just wanted to go from feeling terrible to feeling bad — a step up at the time. It was suggested I get a sponsor and I thank God I did; I was afraid of the woman I asked, yet at the same time I liked her because she had a sparkle in her eyes. (She still does!) I was able to talk to her and ask questions. Talking to her helped me start sharing myself in meetings.
I came to accept that I was an alcoholic when I was sober about six months. At the time there weren’t many people around who were my age, but fortunately I was taken under the wings of gracious AA members and spoiled with tough love. It’s ten years later and I’m still sober. I’m very active in AA. I don’t think I could ever give back what has been given to me but I try to thank God and AA for this gift in one way or another every day.
My drinking experience also involved the use of other chemicals, but I feel that’s unnecessary to share at AA meetings. When I brought up this “controversy” with my sponsor, she told me to read the Traditions and come to my own conclusion about what was right for me. I love the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous and I think the more I change, the more I hope the Traditions and principles of AA don’t change. I believe it’s my responsibility to support the Traditions and live the principles. I’m not here to change Alcoholics Anonymous; Alcoholics Anonymous is here to change me. Thank God.
D. W.
San Mateo, California
December 1995
Rarely Have We Seen a Person Fail …
I TOOK MY FIRST REAL DRINK, aside from sips of beer from family members, the summer after eighth grade. I was thirteen years old and baby-sitting with my cousin. She mixed some vodka and orange juice and without even thinking, I began to drink. It was one of those things, like smoking, that I swore I’d never do because I saw how it made my alcoholic family members act and I didn’t want to be like them.
The compulsion began immediately. Suddenly, I was beautiful and smart and funny, and everyone loved me. We continued to drink until we ran out of orange juice. One of us got the bright idea to mix the rest of the vodka with fudge ripple ice cream. The rest of the night is pretty blurry: it was my first time getting drunk and I experienced my first blackout. I later thought that this was normal, since I experienced them nearly every time I drank. All I know for sure is that right away I felt like I couldn’t get enough. I got sick, and the parents came home to me throwing up in their cast-iron skillet on their kitchen table. My cousin told them I had gotten food poisoning, even though I can only imagine how I smelled.
The next morning I woke up sicker than I had ever been before. I had several earrings in my ear that I didn’t have the previous day, and there was some kind of fluid all over my bed. I’m still not sure what it was or where it came from. I was scared and I was sick, but I also felt somehow whole. It was like I had finally found something I’d been looking for all my life. The suicide attempts, the running away, the faking illnesses — none of these had worked for me and I’d been trying them for as long