I had my last drink 11 years and one day ago. I was on my way to detox at the local ICU.
With the amounts I was drinking, no rehab facility thought I’d survive detox, so they kept turning me away.
I really wanted to hit that checkpoint. I wanted the officer to ask ‘Have you had anything to drink today?’
The ICU said they’d take me, but I needed to stave off the shakes and DTs until I could check in.
So I pounded a half-quart of Johnny Walker Black and drove myself to the ICU. And that was my last drink.
Next exit
I like being sober. And I don’t miss the nightmare of alcoholism. But there’s something missing.
There’s a part of me that’s empty, that can’t be filled. I keep chasing it, but I never find it.
In the Program (AA), they call that “the God-shaped hole.” They’ll tell you that the only thing that can fill the emptiness is God and His love and following His plan.
Well … I’ve got God in my life. And I’m following His plan to the best of my ability. There’s a path. Sometimes it’s faint and murky. Sometimes it’s hard to find. But I’m on it.
I just keep doing the next right thing and the next right thing after that.
Not only do I have God, I have a career, and family, and friends, and hobbies. And amazing things are happening. For example, I wrote a book, and someone actually published it. That would never have happened when I was drinking.
Don’t look back
But the emptiness remains. And I feel driven to fill it. Often I’m overcome by the urge to run. Just burn everything down and go — job, family, everything. Hit the road. Don’t look back. Figure it out along the way.
Just go. Just run.
And maybe, I think, I’ll find what I’m looking for if I unburden myself. Maybe I’ll find a way to fill that hole.
From what I understand, this is a common feeling among recovering addicts and alcoholics. They never stop chasing that high, and everything else is just a letdown.
But I wonder …
I wonder if that emptiness was always there. That it was ever-present before the drugs and the booze. And the addiction was just a result of me trying to fill that hole.
And maybe there’s no way I can shake it. Maybe it’s going to be with me forever. And I’m going to have to figure out how to live with it somehow.
But in the Program, they also tell you not to worry about these things. That you only need to live your life one day at a time, because if you don’t, it’s too overwhelming.
Rules of the road
So that’s what I do. That’s how I proceed. I do it one day at a time.
And today I’m fine. Today is a good day. I’ve got everything I need.
And I’ll worry about tomorrow when it comes.
I was coming back from a day of fishing this past weekend. Driving down a mountain road, I saw one of those flashing highway info signs. It flashed “Slow” and then “Sobriety Checkpoint Ahead.”
I really wanted to hit that checkpoint. I wanted the officer to ask, “Have you had anything to drink today?”
And I wanted to say, “I haven’t had anything to drink since July 7, 2014!”
And then he’d laugh and I’d laugh, and maybe he’d tell me congratulations and then he’d wave me through.
But I didn’t get to say my line. Because by the time I got to the checkpoint, they were done for the day, packing up their cones and signs and tables with the breathalyzers.
Oh well. I guess I’ll have to do it next year.
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