The Fall and Rise (AA)

      I had my first drink, rather drunk, when I was 12 years old.   Unaware of the vital fact, that in that one   moment, I had chosen a fate that would alter and destroy, and simultaneously heal and sanctify everything in my life from then on.  In that first taste I joined in a demonic communion with the most rapacious, jealous, insistent and all consumptive spirit ever unleashed.  It whispered to me, feel pain no more and I believed its sirens call.  An elixir concocted  in hell; compact, ready to use;  a portable self sustaining evil; simply add a tortured soul for activation.  Alcohol would ultimately own me in all ways.  It would decide where I went, with whom I associated, where I worked, how I behaved, what interest I had, what I thought, and most importantly who I was as a person.  It became a perfect companion, confidant, and friend.  Loyal to me beyond any love I had known.  It soothed, cared for, motivated, denied, excused, sweet talked, softened,  and rationalized anything I did.  It never judged, scolded, or abandoned me.  It worked every time I tried it, until it didn't.

     Like the jealous lover it is,  it began to control and manipulate everything.  At first it was great.  I could acquiesce all responsibility and decisions to it,  and it always decided in my favor.   All I had to do was visit with it regularly.  That's easy enough.   What I didn't realize, until it was much too late, the payment for the services it provided, was to be my very soul.  That's what it wanted,  and it is the only currency it deals in.  This malevolent spirit began a progressive, calculated,  purposeful, and malignant attack upon my very being.  Its end game, the destruction of my life and inevitable damnation.  The slow, methodical poisoning of anything positive, worthwhile, loving or healing continued inexorably and unconsciously.  I began to watch myself do things that appalled my sense of beauty.  It began to spark a rage so powerful and volcanic as to be uncontrollable.  Mercurial in reaction, violence ready for any perceived offense, starkly unpredictable, and stunningly untrustworthy. Watch your back.  It criminalized and perverted all my behaviors.  It fostered resentment into hatred into action almost immediately in an unstoppable cascade.  It brought fear at first, then unrelenting terror.  It separated and isolated me from myself and my humanity.  I was quarantined to a loneliness so complete and all encompassing as to be indescribable.  In fact, only an alcoholic knows the utter totality of such loneliness; there's nothing like it.   I reverted to the primary animal, a wounded animal, driven by fear, survival and instinct alone.  Like the spiritual pimp that it is, alcohol demanded complete obedience; unchallengeable in its control and authority.  It ran me like the whore that I became and I was loyal to it to the last.  It forced me to give up love, respect, intellect, honor, integrity, will, affection, goals, needs, friendship, dreams, future and finally  all belief.  Whatever you need I'll give, but please don't abandon me.   I complied with all its demands throughout.  The last thing it wants, and the only thing it ever wanted,  my mortal soul.  It's all I have left.  Payment in full.  

      I know that I am slowly going insane and I have no way to hold myself any longer.  My psychic structure is fragmented and  fragile,  like a child lost in a strange place.   I sense that something is fundamentally wrong but have no idea what it is.  The awareness of my situation settles in;  my ability to continue is spent.  There is no will to go on.  It's over and I know it, and there is nothing I can do about it. I am completely oblivious to the fact that alcohol is doing this to me.  Lack of human touch and intimacy has forced me into a wilderness of unrelenting anguish. My soul is dying.  A sadness blankets me, I feel it everywhere around and within me.  The sadness of all that  loss:  loss of potential, of loving, of choice, of intimacy, of beauty, of music, of fatherhood, of laughter, of friendship, of art, of future, of self and very soon,  life.  I am 25 years old and completely resigned to the death that is at hand.  It will all be over soon.  I submissively wait, there's nothing else to do.   I hope reincarnation is true; someday I would like another chance at this. I hope God isn't too angry with me.   The final day begins. 

     This is the precipice that every alcoholic stands before.  All else either taken, lost, stolen or simply given up.  There's nothing left to loose but the self; nothing left to give.  The soul hangs in the balance.  This is where all recovery and sobriety begins.  It is the mandatory jumping off point and must be reached by every addict in order to recover.

Rise

     The final day began like any other.  Got up, went to work with my brother.  We were visited by a mutual friend, an unusual occurrence, people didn't visit work.  He came to see my brother but I now realize that he was sent there for me.   While there, I overhear a conversation between them about another friend who was doing well because of AA.  This was 33 years ago.  AA was not as well known as it is today.   The celebrity status that seems to accompany addiction was not the case in those days.  That utterance, AA, struck me at the deepest most fundamental part of my self.  It was visceral in location and crystalline in clarity. The veil over my psyche fell away,  and the truth in those two letters,  hit me with an amplified intensity.   What that truth may be I had no idea and I didn't care.  Whatever it meant, I was going to go after it.  The remaining remnants of my sanity took hold of those two letters as if they were air and I was suffocating.  I had no idea what had happened,  but the mythical point had been reached.  This is the  "moment of clarity" that mystics talk about.

     We break for lunch at a local bar and I call AA (downtown office).  A women answers and asks, "how you doin?"   "Not very well."   "Well listen,  just don't drink."  My answer, "ok."  I never thought of that.  I left my information with her and someone called me that evening, appointment set for the next day.  That night I had to go back to work.  I went to the same bar and ordered a beer; half way through I said to myself,  "hey, I told that AA lady that I wouldn't drink."   I got up, left that half beer on that bar, and walked out.  That was the last time I drank, September 15, 1977.  Believe me, I know that that half beer is still sitting there waiting for me.

     Thus began the odyssey of my life in sobriety and  recovery.  I consider alcoholics a very fortunate bunch of people but I consider myself extraordinarily gifted and fortunate above most others.  In that one phone call, I was bestowed with a singular loving grace so profound and healing as to be inexplicable. I was touched on three different levels.  In an instant I became fully aware and accepted the fact that I am an alcoholic.  Next, I was instilled with the motivation to pursue recovery, whatever the cost;  and  lastly, unbelievably, the obsession for alcohol was removed completely.  I have not met anyone who has a story as compelling as mine, especially as to the circumstances of that initial gift;  from the phone call, I was struck sober.  God truely called me that day and I listened; and you know what, I listen every day.  Cicero Frank use to say, "once I realized that God truely loved me,  what else  really mattered".   I agree. I know how lucky I am and how loving God is to me.  But you still gotta get a job.  That won't pay your bills, but  it's a beautifully warm place to start from each day.

      Alcoholism is a spiritual malady and requires a spiritual remedy.  I know that it is also emotional, intellectual and physical in nature but those will all best be served if the solution is grounded in a solid and loving spirituality.  Take that statement to heart, because it is true.

      The journey of life as a sober alcoholic is the mythic journey of all fellow travelers who seek  truth and meaning in their lives.  The great spiritual corruption that is alcoholism,  is also an opening to the fullness and happiness that is all our birthright.  God wants us to be happy and He shows us how to get there everyday. Listen up.   Alcoholism, probably the most lethal and destructive condition we could contract is also the doorway to the redemption of us as spiritual beings, and the way to a better life.  What an odd irony and strange paradox that is.  That which pursued my soul for damnation now becomes the vehicle of my santification.  Believe this, only God can weave such goodness out of such depravity.    
     This journey towards a spiritual truth is a transformation on many levels:  from thought to being;  from analysis to feeling;  from isolation to integration;  from fragmentation to wholeness; from the profane to the sacred.  This is no easy voyage.  It is not filled with fluffy light and airy breezes.  It consists of gut wrenching pain and searing revelation.  You will stand face to face with all the self hate, unworthiness and ugliness you carry.  It requires the courage and commitment of a warrior.   It forces you to open up and bleed your wounds, and they must be bled in the presence of others for the poison of shame to be released.  It is explosive in emotional expression.  You will be forced to confront and engage all the darkness you hold, and unfreeze your locked heart.  But it is the only way to own yourself as the unique, beautiful, and precious spiritual being that you are.  To own yourself fully without judgement or excuse.   It is also the only avenue to find out what your true destiny is;  it is there where your true happiness and usefulness will be found.  Where your soul lies and where it has always been, waiting for you.  Take heart.  Believe me, this is where the God you seek is found.  He will gird, carry, infuse, sooth, power, love and take care of you throughout.  That's His job. That's what He does.   So get up, suit up, show up, and shut up.  Welcome to your life.  Begin.

     The journey continues.  

                                                                Yours in kinship,

                                                                                           Mike C.