Tim D' Story

Hi everyone, My name is Tim and I'm an alcoholic

 
This is my story, nobody elses, it's the only one I've got.
 
Childhood was OK for me. Safe and warm and loving. Dad drank sometimes, and
never hit us unless we really deserved it, not very often. Mum was lovely,
always there and warm and kind. They gave us what they could materially, we
always came first. Not exactly a breeding ground for a lunatic.
 
I was a local "clever dick", roughly translated it means "smartass". Coming
top of the class was an occupational hazard for me - it meant making friends
wasn't easy, and I became introverted. I was lucky enough to have a
"pedigree", which meant that I could go to a senior school that my parents
couldn't afford because of some tenuous link to a rich, deceased benefactor,
who provided enough spondulics for a uniform, books etc.
 
Senior school was a nightmare - I was no longer automatically elected top
of the class - I had to work at it. This was no good, so I stopped trying,
and ended up at the bottom. I became the fool, and got popular, and made
loadsa friends. I started stealing to gain credibility, and it worked;
started smoking to look big, and it worked; started playing truant to look
independant, and it worked; got in trouble to look cool, and it worked.
 
My parents and teachers tried to give me advice. I ignored them - if
they're so good how come they're not rich and famous? No, no, no, there was
an easier, softer way, which I would soon discover without their help, thank
you very much.
 
You may be asking - what has this to do with drinking? My answer is
nothing, yet everything - these were, for me, the seeds of alcoholism -
alcohol itself simply became the fertiliser.
 
My early encounters with alcohol were generally pathetic affairs, with long
spaces in between. I would drink little, get drunk, get silly, fall down,
then suffer for 3/4 days with the most horrendous hangovers. Even at this
age (14/15) I liked the effect, hated the consequences, and always vowed
(during hangovers) "never again". Till the next time.
 
I left school early (waste of my precious time on this planet) and started
on my road to riches in the local Wimpy bar, serving hotdogs and hamburgers
to poor, harmless creatures who, unlike me, had no real idea of what life
was all about. I left after 3 months as the expected promotion to management
hadn't happened as quickly as I wanted; the bosses must have been real
thickies who didn't know a good thing when they saw it, therefore they
didn't deserve me.
 
After starting a career in computers (at last! a new frontier for my
talents), I progressed up the ladder of success rapidly. So rapidly that
after three years I gave it up. I was sick of company politics and being
made a scapegoat. And all because I was late arriving most mornings
(hangovers) and late back from most lunches (acquiring hangovers). Didn't
these droids realise that TRUE ARTISTS require large doses of inspirational
fluids in order to function at the height of their genius? No appreciation
at all, let em suffer is what I say! I'll show em.
 
So I got a job at a holiday camp, being a waiter. And when I wasn't waiting
I was drinking rotgut sherry from the wood by the pint (local home brew), or
tripping, or quaffing cough medicine, or swallowing nasal inhalers.
 
And in between, I lost my virginity, and I don't remember losing it.
 
I knew I had a problem - shortly after stopping drinking I was clearing out
the loft, and I came across an old letter from a girlfriend from the camp.
In it she writes "Do you really think you're an alcoholic?" and logic tells
me that I must have made the statement in my letter to her - I don't
remember writing it.
 
So I admitted I was an alcoholic at the age of 19.
 
I finally got to AA at the age of 35.
 
A 16 year bender. 16 years proving to myself that I wasn't an alcoholic.
 
I had plenty of proof during the early years. I seemingly got my act
together, learnt a lot more about computers, and started a business. This
was, in money terms, successful. I got married, we had children, a lovely
house, a new car, money in the bank. I made new friends & business
acquaintances. My parents began to look up to me as "Rebel made good",
instead of "Rebel without a clue".
 
Life was lived on the basis of several lessons handed to me on the way.
Nearly all of them were given by "good ol boys" met during various drinking
exploits. Some of these were
 
"Always get the bastards before they get you"
"Never trust anyone, especially your best friend"
"Life is an illusion caused by lack of alcohol"
"Work is the curse of the drinking class"
"Hey, I'm well balanced - I've got a chip on BOTH shoulders"
And so on ad infinitum................
 
I treated these as profound yet simple truths - they had a lot of meaning
in my daily way of living and dealing with people.
 
Then, slowly but surely, the rapacious creditor began to demand payback. As
life became more comfortable, I had more time to relax. My way of relaxing
was quite simple - I got outa my skull.
 
I used lots of things to achieve "temporal vacancy". Most of them ended up
scaring the shit out me, because I was losing control. So I stopped them
all, before it was too late, all except alcohol, cos I could still control
that one, no problem!
 
I controlled it so well that I could enjoy it on a daily basis.
<Grinning from ear to ear>
 
As I relaxed, life started to slip away from me. Material bits and pieces,
friendships, business contacts, the business, relationships. I lost the
ability to care about what was happening to me - it didn't matter as long as
I could get drunk. I lost the ability to care about anything or anyone else.
I cared until they interfered with my drinking, then I didn't care.
 
At times, yes, there were brief periods of respite. They lasted for a
while, I appeared to get a little better when I stopped drinking, but BOY!
was life a bitch - day after day after day of misery, self pity, guilt, pain
- until it just got too much, and I'd have to escape, and the roundabout
started up all over again.
 
Then, one day, a miracle happened.
 
I was 35 years old, going on 80, and dying. And I didn't care.
I came out of a blackout, 3 days, relatively short by my standards.
I knew I had to have a drink, before anything else.
I sat in a pub, lonely, afraid, resigned to my fate.
I experienced a vision of my future.
I was on a road going nowhere, with no-one and nothing else, except a bottle.
I thought "is that it then for me? does it end here?"
I asked for help
I asked something/someone I had no belief in, had always denied, for help
I was offered AA
I tried cos there was nothing else
 
I became WE.
 
We started to get better. One day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute
at a time, we stayed away from alcohol.
We keep going to meetings.
We learn how to laugh at sorrow, at ourselves.
We learn the joy of freedom and friendship.
We were babies together
We hold hands
We cry
We pray
We share
We learn how to help others, if they want it
We learn how to give
We learn how to open our minds
We read the Big Book
We argue, but we come back for more
We make tea and coffee
We empty ashtrays and sweep the floor
We enjoy every minute together, ache every minute apart
We become tolerant of, and patient with, each other
We try to become tolerant and patient with earthlings
We try the program of recovery, some of us find it works for us
We are understanding of Americans inability to spell COLOUR
We have found something bigger than us
We call it what we like, some of us call it "God"
We acknowledge it is there
We allow it into our lives
We let it guide us
We get better
We have recovered "from a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body"
We meet regularly, in whatever way we can
We meet face to face, over telephones, internet, or post
We love each other unconditionally
We do not have to be alone again.
 
Whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever you're doing,
Hi! I'm Tim and I'm an alcoholic
We're glad you found us!