My testament: I used to have a lot of bad habits, one of them was drinking. I would drink heavily, sometimes till I couldn't walk straight, or on occasion even stand up. This happened enough times to ruin a good chunk of my life. As the repercussions eventually met me on my doorstep.
I was what you would call a drunk or an alcoholic -
Though I was very high functioning for many years.
(Partly because I was young and bounced back quickly.)
Of course, I didn't think of myself that way at the time.
Often working 12+ hour days with little to no time off above what was required for sleep, bathing and eating, the bare necessities and most of my family and friends maintained the illusion for a while,
(playing along as it were) as long as I kept up the act we all managed.
Though I was firmly under alcohol's spell.
The illusion:
That I could manage my life by escaping my problems rather than working through them and that it would suffice for a meaningful or even pleasurable life began to fade. What's worse, in the short term it worked, as my problems stacked up and I was too busy working or drinking to attend to them or notice. With an overabundance of 'life', I left my good sense at the door where it did me little to no good.
“There is no coming to consciousness without pain. People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own Soul. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” ― C.G. Jung
"I don't know why no one told you - how to unfold your love."
- George Harrison, The Beatles
After lost jobs, stalled careers and wrecked cars, having inflicted pain on others due to my unconscious acting out from inner wounds I could not or would not face. Things progressively slid further downhill over the years.
This was me...
I played in a band: outside of work, the band and drinking, I took care of my little brother often and tended to domestic responsibilities. This was my life. I was a 'Good Guy' but I didn't have my shit together. I was running from my problems rather than facing them, creating havoc in my wake and sometimes often leaving it for others to clean up the mess. There were a lot of guys around where I lived 'like me' who grew up with their own problems, burdens to bear and escaped into drinking. Many of us embraced the same problem in exchange for facing all of the others, we wrapped our arms around it. Though I never went looking for self-destruction, I didn't play hard to get either.
Work Hard, Play Hard.
That was my motto; it rued the day.
But I felt different. Maybe it's because I knew from a very young age that I was different. I knew I had much more within me and as my teachers had told me I wasn't living up to my potential.
I knew it, but I didn't know why.
But I was there for my friends and family loyal to the death and would do anything for the one's I loved. I treated my friends like family and my band like brothers.
I'd had a good nearly ten-year run - beginning in high school ending by being chased by the police, in a high-risk stop, before that lifestyle began catching up with me. I was driving under the influence the officers on scene ordered me to get out of the car drew their guns on me, there were about a dozen of them in the middle of the road all guns pointed directly at me.
I was in shock. Stunned it took me a moment to register the scene was this REAL? I thought it seemed like a bad nightmare. I snapped out of it just in time to realize the officers were all shouting at me to:
"Put your hands up!!!"
I didn't know if they'd already shouted it and I hadn't heard it, or - as was likely the case - only a split second had gone by, my adrenaline was now rushing, surging through me, I was wide awake and lucid and time seemed to completely stand still. I had visions of getting shot down as I raised my hands like so many you see on the nightly news.
In that frozen moment I processed the fact that they could and would shoot me dead right then and there, if they so chose, that I would be just another statistic, that this incident would shame my parents, my family and friends would be devastated (and it would be my fault too) I thought.
Looking at the mess I'd gotten myself into for a moment, I really thought this was it, I was going to die then and there. As all of these thoughts flashed through my mind I instinctively shot my hands straight up in the air with as much speed and force as an Olympic swimmer propelling themselves off the block and into the pool. I kept them there and I allowed the look of fear to fill my eyes, I tried not to move a single muscle unless asked.
As I continued to process what was occurring; It became apparent, that showing fear and compliance were my two best tools for coming out of this alive.
After All: All it took was one trigger happy cop and I wouldn't be here one rookie to make a mistake or someone to think they saw something,heard a loud noise from behind me in the dark night. It could have been anything and their reaction could have caused a chain-reaction that would result in the end of my life.
But, by the grace of God and my own quick thinking, I'm still alive today to tell this story.
I was wrong in how I was living my life and this was a wake-up call.
It's not the first time I've brushed with death.
I had a close call when I was a kid and I've had others since. Though I've straightened up and begun living right, by others and by myself. Realizing as a friend used to say: Life Is What You Make It.
It's odd, this is an incident and a time in my life I rarely if ever reflect on these days, the days when I was escaping all of the things that caused me pain and seeking pleasure when and where I could find it. I wasn't a bad guy, but I was mixed up. More than I knew. Or more than I would allow myself to admit. Even to myself. That was the first step in recovering... who I was and am destined and capable of being. The next step of recovery was to realize these were all just effects, symptoms of something else going on within me and to the degree, I could manage and overcome the temptation, tame the demons I would free myself to live the life I chose.
Today, I'm not the same person. Thankfully.
I don't feel like the same person, a feeling confirmed by the choices
I've made I have changed, it feels like another life. Another chance.
Eventually, I quit. For good. I made it last, at first only 6 months, till my brother and closest confidant in this world passed away suddenly at the age of 26. In shock, grief-stricken I carried on, knowing that he wouldn't want me to destroy my life again and to add any more hurt to those around me who I love and care about when we were all reeling, suffering from the fresh wound of this unimaginable loss; Knowing now how quickly life can change in unfathomable ways.
My younger brother (AJ) He grew up fast, faster than I did. Faster than all of us.
After our parents divorced, in what everyone agreed was an ugly affair, often filled with drama, high emotions, and uncertainty. We'd relocated to another part of town with a few seedy elements, this was tough on him at such a young age.
He was a special guy who would literally give you the shirt off of his back (I still have one from him) and it's taken me years of experience to realize how rare that is. So full of life! His generous, selfless and warrior nature - Qualities he had in such abundant supply and lent freely for the benefit of others, the strength by which he endured without complaint and carried a torch for others is second to none I have ever met or spent enough time with and I've been fortunate to know some good, true-blue, kind-hearted people in my life.
I've also known a few low-lives but that's a story for another time.
That's The End of Part 1
There's a lot more to come...