I'm grateful for the freedom I have now. Freedom. It was my battle cry when I was drinking. And that "Freedom" battle cry brought me to a beach in the Caribbean. I was sailing away from my problems. I was "Free" so I thought. I was absolutely broke--didn't have enough money to get off the island, didn't really know anybody, and I'd just thrown 23.5 months of sobriety away by drinking. Why did I drink? I was delivering a big sailboat to Antigua, and the cook on the boat was this little pixie from New Zealand. We had what I though were deep meaningful talks in the cockpit as we crossed the gulf stream, weathered nasty weather, and shared our thoughts about freedom and adventure. She was perfect for me I thought. I was going to see the world with Sally (even though I was getting polite "let's be friends" vibes). She called me "Lovie" and she had this sexy little accent. So when we pulled into Bermuda on our way south, I thought to myself "Sally will really dig me if I'm one of those hard drinking salty sailors (instead of being the sensitive sober type) and God will love me weather I drink or not, so I'm gonna have a drink at dinner. She'll come around then"
Isn't that amazing? Isn't the/my alcoholic mind remarkable in its ability to warp reality. I/my alcoholic mind concocted this ridiculous story to start drinking again and it all made perfect sense. And I did have a beer. And surprise, surprise, nothing happened. Sally sure didn't understand that she was supposed to want to spend the rest of her life sailing the worlds oceans with me now that she saw that I was a salty, hard drinking sailor, and I didn't get arrested or anything bad. There was just nothing. Except the knowledge that I'd thrown away the only thing that had worked for me ever. My alcoholic mind then needed to go into overdrive to keep the ridiculous story intact. It was horrible. Drinking was no fun. The sailing/adventure was kinda fun but now everything was tinged with the knowledge, that deep down inside, I was on my own, again. I was on my own and nobody or nothing was going be there to catch me as I fell. The pit of loneliness grew deeper and deeper and darker and darker and even the drinking was ineffective at blotting it out. And sally called everybody "Lovie". Awesome.
So I ended up on that beach. Sally and the boat I'd sailed down on were long gone. Alone, homeless, destitute. I filled my days by watching the tourists with their video cameras and.......nothing. I spent Christmas day drinking a case of 8 ounce beers in an abandoned boat. And it was scary. F*%kin scary. Here I was. Doing exactly what my best thinking thought would help me to achieve that elusive "happiness" and the last of my money was going down my throat in the form of warm, 8 ounce beers that didn't deliver the "escape" I was hoping the would. Heineken is the beer of sailors down there. The 8 ouncers were heinekens. The abyss was so close. I could smell it, taste it and feel the gravitation pull of its coldness. The coldness was pulling me down and my alcoholic mind comforted me with the thoughts of--just fall in, it'll be the relief you've been searching for. I was teetering on the point of no return.
And then I was in the grocery store. Not for a sandwich or anything like that (no money), I was in there to see if there were any crew jobs posted on the bulletin board they had. The key to survival I thought was getting a job. Everything will be okay If I can just get a job on another boat. So I was scanning the bulletin board, fearful of and resigned to my date with the abyss when a note written on a 3X5 card changed the entire trajectory of my life. It said "Friends of Bill gathering for Christmas fellowship in the Dockyard. Eileen and Don S/V Moonrise. I'll be forever grateful for that index card. There's much more to be grateful for but that's all for now.
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2 comments:
Amazing stuff, when things happen that cannot be explained away by mere coincidence or chance. Of course, the doomed existence of an alcoholic can see the drink in anything, but once graced with conscious contact I can see the spirit of universal truth: the help is always there, I just can't see it until I have willingness. Today I am willing, thanks for the reminder.
Page 85 in the fourth edition of the big book discusses the 10th step. "We will see that our new attitude toward liquor has been given us without any thought or effort on our part. It just comes! That is the miracle of it. We are not fighting it, neither are we avoiding temptation. We feel as though we had been placed in a position of neutrality-safe and protected. We have not even sworn off. Instead, the problem has been removed. It does not exist for us. We are neither cocky nor are we afraid. That is our experience. That is how we react so long as we keep in fit spiritual condition."
That is the stuff I am after. I have seen this work in other peoples lives, recovered alcoholics living spiritual lives, who seem oblivious to the presence of alcohol in social settings, etc. I am doing a searching and fearless moral inventory, as a step toward this goal of neutrality.
Thank you for your words,
Chris S.
yea brother. Page 85 has it right on the money. I just got laid off from a job that I've had for 14 years. And you just reminded me, that I didn't even think of drinking. The thought never entered my mind. The obsession has been removed (as long as I continue to enhance my spiritual life and to do the steps). Keep writing. I did, and I'm benefiting from the gift of neutrality now. And I know better things are ahead.
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