When you know, you know.

When you know, you know.

I knew on March 10, 2014. I somehow made it into the bathroom that morning, and when I saw myself in the mirror, I knew.

Physically, I was at that place that all too many of us are familiar with. Head pounding, eyes burning, throat and mouth some toxic mix of bile, stale, and cotton. Brain trying to grasp what the fuck had happened to bring this state of affairs on. I was still ¾ drunk from the night before, and the hangover was raging. If you’ve never experienced this, I can’t possibly suggest strongly enough that you never do.

I had vague fuzzy memories of the day and night before. Arguing with a State Trooper about weather or not I was drunk. Thrashing about wildly in bed. Chicken Snack Wraps from Wendy’s. Knowing this was next level and sending an email to work in the middle of the night calling off the next day. Snippets of a “Walking Dead” episode. Texting my wife seemingly hundreds of times. Knowing that she and our daughter left. Rage.

I hadn’t noticed at this point the holes I’d put in the drywall. I found out later that my then wife had a go bag packed and ready for the better part of a year, knowing this was coming.

I had always believed myself to be a decent person. Someone who was a protector. Someone who wore the uniform for decades from a desire to serve a greater good. Someone who loved and respected his family. Someone who detested those who took advantage of women and people they could.

For reasons that escape me, probably just because it’s what we do, I looked into the mirror when I walked into the bathroom. I saw the man in the mirror, and I was disgusted and horrified. I saw a man who had become the very worst version of himself, someone who was now what he detested, a terrorizer of women, a violent and abusive man. I saw a drunk.

I saw in that moment that’s exactly what I was. I held my gaze for as long as I could bear, 2 or 3 seconds at most. It was all the time I could take, and all the time I needed.

That was the most honest few seconds of my life. I saw who I had become, and I saw what I had to do. I was an alcoholic. I could never drink again.

I knew. I just knew.

That I thought was my bottom. I found out a few days later with my knife at my wrist that bottoms have sub basements.

After a week or so, and talking with family members, I decided to walk into aa meeting. That turned out to be the best decision I’ve ever made. I wholly appreciate the 12 step world is not for everyone, and I’m not here to evangelize. That said, it’s a huge part of my story and I’m going to talk about it.

I cried at my first meeting. I spoke up, said my name followed by the words “I’m an alcoholic” for the first time.

When I walked in, I saw people laughing. I saw faces I knew and had no clue they were in the rooms. During the week or so between when I had my mirror moment and I walked into the meeting, one of the people I talked with was my brother. He said he knew a guy who had been going to meetings for years, and that he described it as the most optimistic thing he’d ever done. I needed optimism at that point, and that was the view of 12 step world I took into the room with me.

Being that I was a newcomer, they shifted gears and made the meeting about me. It turned into a first step meeting, something that I’ve been a part of several hundreds of times now. The people in that meeting didn’t preach, didn’t tell me the secret of how they stopped drinking, they told their stories. The talked about what brought them into their first meeting. I identified with people I had nothing in common with. One was a woman from Maine who was tough as nails and in her mid 60’s. They talked about how they got sober.

There was some talk of God. That gave me pause. I was raised in a Catholic household, and never bought into the organized religion thing. I was leery of being a cult and being sucked into it. I didn’t go back the next night. I did the night after. At the beginning of the meeting, I asked about the God thing, and the rest of the meeting was spent explaining how the steps and God work.

I heard a woman who was also fairly new say that we can pick our own concept of God. Over the course of that meeting, I gradually understood what that meant. So, I picked my own concept of God.

I was an 11 year old white kid in the suburbs in 1977. I didn’t know it then, but I WAS the Star Wars demographic. I took to it, and all subsequent Star Wars like a fish to water. I’m kindof that guy; I’m a Star Wars nerd, I have a Star Wars tattoo. (The Rebel Alliance symbol merged with the Jedi symbol).

The Force became the God of my understanding. I get and got at the time that science fiction isn’t much of a basis for a spiritual anything, that said, a universal connection between all living things just made sense to me. I didn’t know at the time that George Lucas had intentionally put heavy doses of eastern philosophy into the movies. Today, if pressed, Kate and I would both identify as Buddhists.

I started to recover. Early on I grasped the concept of if I wanted what they had (they being people with long term contented sobriety) I had to do what they did. So, I did. I came early to meetings and took commitments to make coffee. I stayed after to clean up and made a commitment to mop the room weekly. I made a lot of meetings; I made a lot of phone calls to other AA’s. After a bit of time, I stated taking my turn chairing meetings. I took service jobs in our group. Time passed and I learned how to live a day at a time without drinking.

Kate was and remains a member of the group I walked into that first night. She’s been there since the beginning, and she’ll drive over to the meeting with me in a few hours. It’s a daily part of our lives. Someone’s always calling to talk about this or that problem, or just the days march thru life. We meditate daily, we pray, and we read a couple of daily reading books. I don’t think either of us listen to pure recovery podcasts, but there’s several about spirituality and Buddhism we listen to.

Shameless plug for Ten Percent Happier. There’s a book, a podcast, meditation courses, etc etc. If you’re looking for a low dose of spirituality mixed with a ton of life skills and genuinely fascinating conversation, Kate and I both recommend Ten Percent Happier.

Recovery is a low percentage game. From what I’ve seen, 10% of people who start or try to get sober (via any method) stay sober. I’d love to share the secret to getting and staying sober, I can’t because there just isn’t one. Here’s some observations that I see common in long term sober people:

Recovery is a verb. If you sit around doing nothing and hope it will wash over you, you’ve lost. It takes effort and work. Community is essential. The first word in the first of AA’s 12 steps is “We”. Resilience is key. You’ll take metaphorical punches to the face getting sober and dealing with life sober. Having the ability to pick yourself back up and shake it off is huge. You’ve got to want it and be willing to make changes. Sometimes significant changes. Commitment to a spiritual practice. It can be organized religion, or it can not be. Find what fits and groove it. Work whatever program you’re doing. Work the steps in AA, really work them. Finally, separation of drinking problems from living problems. It doesn’t matter what happens, do not, under any and all circumstances, pick up the first drink.

Life happens. I can do it sober today. I’ve lost parents and met Grandchildren. I’ve gotten divorced and re-married. Paid off a mortgage and got another one. Traveled the world, on my own for months at a time. Dealt with traffic and asshole drivers, broken several shoelaces, had trash bags break. Seen countless people come in and out of recovery. Opened a relationship, and became swingers, now with much more than a toe dipping into Polyamory. Been laid off and walked away from different jobs. All manner of kid issues including addiction and felonies. I’ve been to concerts, week-long all inclusive vacations, wedding receptions, and backyard parties. All sober.

Today is a milestone day for sure. I remember being 2 or 3 months sober and seeing someone get their 10 year chip, it seemed impossible. Turns out it’s not. My sponsor will be giving me my 10 year chip in a few hours. In a couple months, he’ll be picking up his 45 year chip. Both milestones for sure, but not about us. It’s about showing the newcomer that it’s possible.

It’s just one day without just one drink. Life unfolds around that for Kate and I today.

Thanks for reading, be kind to yourself and others!!!

Sam and Kate