Alcoholic In Recovery

Rock Bottom

I really hadn't gone very far down when I got to AA, wanting a shoulder to cry on and to hang onto a job that I knew my drinking was affecting.  I was
vomiting blood on occasion,  had been grossly overweight and often woke in a wet bed with no memory of the night before.  But there were no jails,  nut
houses,  car wrecks or alcoholic seizures.  I still had a job as a high school teacher, that I was afraid of losing at the age of 28, and mostly drank beer.  I would sometimes listen to the dramatic stories in AA meetings and feel a bit envious,  thinking of things I could do to jazz up my story if I had a slip.  It was comforting to be reminded one night that the best stories were in the cemetary.

I was just sick of living in my own skin,  that my life was headed downward and I would clearly end up where I didn't want to go unless I did something about it.  I had felt that something was wrong with me before I started drinking,  something that alcohol seemed to either fix or enable me to live with for a while.  But I had to admit that it had become more of a problem than a solution by the time I got here.  I couldn't guarantee my behaviour after taking the first drink.  I still often had enjoyable nights out doing so,  but it was like Russian roulette,  with a bang getting to be about as likely as a click.

Sitting in a cafe after a meeting one night,  another member told me something that was scarey at the time,  and I don't think I really understood it at the time,  but I do now.  He said that if I didn't go through hell while drinking,  I was likely to do so in sobriety.  Now I take this to mean that,  if alkies really drank themselves into the gutter, sobriety had to be an improvement almost from day one.  I have heard some who slept in parks say how wonderful it was to have their own room with a light they could switch on and off.

For me it wasn't long before I lost my compulsion to drink,  and it was nice waking in the morning with a painless head in a dry bed with a clear memory of the night before.  But then I had to go out and face the same job,  and the mess I'd made of it, cold sober.  I was dry but felt crazier than when I was drinking.  Teachers can be nice guys or tyrants,  but alternating between the two as my mood swung was pretty confusing for anyone,  and I doubt if anyone besides myself appreciated my being sober.  In one senior economics class,  I messed up drawing a diagram on the blackboard and said, "Jeez,  I think I'll go back on the piss."  one of few things I've ever said that had  students cheering.