The Courage to Surrender

John W.

Description

Unlike the memoir of a famous person, my story lives with the millions of baby boomers who passed me a joint and a beer in college and again at the corporate picnic. Before the Woodstock weekend in 1969, I graduated from college and married the mother of our love child, began training for a computer programming career, and a few months later got a high number in the draft lottery. My use of recreational drugs escalated from fun getting high to a craving that trumped my love for drinking beer.

I secured a project manager job at the corporate offices of a world-wide company which is where I entered a fast lane that became a free fall to the bottom of my life. My days began by smoking dope to medicate my alcohol ravaged insides, so I could tolerate the gridlock of morning rush hour traffic. Business days included getting high at noon while on the way to seedy strip joints for a lunch of drinking. The true measure of my self-destruction lay hidden on the dark side of my life where substances and out of control people influenced me into doing things I knew were wrong.

On Dec 17, 2001 my doctor showed me the results of my physical to explain that if I continued to drink I would die sooner rather than later. His prognosis scared me, so I poured out my alcohol and used an old AA schedule to attend the first of some 1800 meetings. My story is full of experiences from my days at the bottom of life, through the first years in recovery, to a day in sobriety. My book combines short stories of life with vivid descriptions of actual situations that allow the reader to see this life-threatening disease from all angles. There are messages for the friends and family of an addict, so they can see that secrecy and enabling are part of the madness.

When you have finished my memoir some of the mystery that surrounds alcoholism and drug addiction will be answered: why people hit deep bottoms, fear based decisions, motive driven behavior, and how the disease twists the mind of the alcoholic / drug addict. Although my past is a mixture of shame and guilt, I'll tell you who I was, what I did, and the lessons I had to learn more than once. Since Dec. 17, 2001 I have not found a problem or instance that I thought drinking and using would improve. I do not preach the virtues of sobriety I merely open my story for the reader to take what they need.

Sujets

• Substance Abuse
• Self-help
• Addictions

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 06 décembre 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456618902
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Courage to Surrender
 
Copyright © 2013 John W.
Published: 10 October 2012
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ISBN: 9781456618902
ASIN: B00AAQ8BPA
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Second Edition
 
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email the author.
 
In my story, I refer to the people in my life by using different names to protect their privacy. My memoir is written from the heart; consequently, there is no fiction. My name-changing did not compromise the truth of my story.
 
 
Contact: [e-mail]
 
Dedication
 
 
My memoir is dedicated to sober people everywhere. When death was staring me down, I reached out to them, and they welcomed me with a promise to help me get sober. By the grace of God and the guidance I found in the Alcoholics Anonymous principles and its people, I was able to pass through the gates of recovery. Although I will always be in recovery, the way I’ve rebuilt my life has seen me through eleven years of continuous sobriety. In that time, I have not found a situation where I thought drinking or using would make my life better.
I will be forever grateful to all of you.

 
The Courage to Surrender
Preface
 
Unlike the memoir of a celebrity, my story lives with the millions of middleclass kids who passed me a joint and a beer in college and, again, at the corporate picnic. My story is rough around the edges, which is how I lived.
As bad as I may have appeared to people, the true measure of my self-destruction lay hidden on the dark side of my life, behind the American Dream, where my out-of-control behavior was widespread. Even in bad times I went there, as substances always took me to a comfort zone where I could ride out any storm.
My aptitude for computer technology launched a career that, for 40 years, moved me from one job to the challenge and salary of the next job. Being on the corporate high-potential list, I was given the keys to upper management, but I was content living on the edge of my potential.
I wrote my memoir as an example of what happened when I entered the world of alcoholism and drug addiction. It is a story of how my addictions defined who I became for so long I subconsciously accepted doing what I knew was wrong.
The stranglehold chemicals had on me controlled my thoughts and behavior, until Dec. 17, 2001 the day I stared death in the face. I knew that day would arrive but I didn’t know I’d find strength in the surrender of my self-destruction, and enough courage to leave the only life I’d ever known.

 
The Courage to Surrender
Acknowledgement
 
I need to acknowledge the value of M. Anne Corbin’s contribution to the development of my memoir. Her edit expertise and “eye of the reader” feedback came together to provide me with a valuable review from a reader’s perspective. Thank you, Anne, for the time and patience you spent working with me on the unforeseen improvement opportunities and for the polishing efforts you’ve gladly put forth. Your involvement showed consistent professionalism in a caring way to produce the best book possible.

 
The Courage to Surrender
Foreword
 
Washington, July 15, 2012 (UPI) reported a conservative estimate that between 5.6 million and 8 million older Americans have one or more mental health problems stemming from substance misuse and abuse. Widely published studies lend credibility to the damaged baby boomer dynamic with estimates of 8 million drug users and 6.3 million who drink alcoholically.
The U.S. Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) reports that the driving force behind this trend are those people who used drugs when they were younger and never really stopped.
Like the experts, I believe the actual number of baby boomer alcoholics/addicts is probably higher than what is estimated, as many seniors hide in the shadows of old age and go undiagnosed, while 80 percent of those who receive treatment will drink or use again, within 90 days.
Numbers this large are hardly believable, but my story breaks down the mystery from what seems exaggerated, into examples of a generation that took drugs – from junkies in an alley to the upscale neighborhoods where drugs and alcohol flowed with acceptance. My story personalizes millions of baby boomers by describing individual feelings, thoughts and fears that caused a lack of self-discipline in a generation with an out-of-control appetite for alcohol and drugs.
 
My life of addictions ended on December 17, 2001, but not before my experiences identified a sub-culture of baby boomers who have been thriving in our society for a lifetime. Our age will be our undoing, as every one of us must one day face our mortality – even though we will always want to get high – just one more time.
Chapter~1
1947 – 1965 Born in a Small Town
It started on my eighth birthday as I was walking with two buddies from school to the restaurant where my friends were getting together for a party. We were only a couple streets away, when Ray paused as though he had a brain fart.
“Hey, let’s stop at Abe’s grocery store for a six-pack of beer. I’ll tell him it’s for my ol’ man, so he’ll give it to me for free,” he said.
That was indicative of our little village. Everyone trusted everyone, and people could buy anything by word alone. The business owners would keep tabs on their customer transactions with pencil and paper. Credit meant ‘I don’t have the money, but when payday comes I’ll be over to pay you.’
I was nervous about what beer might do to me, but I didn’t want to argue and risk being left behind. I followed them to Ray’s house.
I remember standing by a yellow chair in the living room rushing to finish my second beer, while the other guys dumped theirs in the sink so they could hurry to the party.
When I arrived at the party, I felt dizzy. It was like the room was spinning, as though the party was happening without me. I’m not sure, but I have mental snap shots of my friends laughing, although I wasn’t laughing with them. Maybe my drunken behavior was funny, I don’t remember .
This being my first taste of alcohol, I felt scared about what would happen next, but I guess that I made it home without incident.
The progression of my drinking was very slow, and I never realized there was anything wrong with me. Back then, all I cared about was laughing, making fun of life, and living every day to its fullest.
I didn’t know I had a life-threatening disease that was developing inside me, even when I wasn’t drinking. Looking back, the symptoms of alcoholism hadn’t become obvious. Except that, when I drank, I could never get enough.
I have come to believe that the innocence of those early beers had kicked off a disease that would affect how I lived the rest of my life.
My story belongs to many recovering alcoholics and drug addicts, except the hole I dug for myself was probably deeper, and I stayed there longer than most.
For years, I was a functional project manager in the high technology field, an involved father, and a husband whose family appeared to be enjoying the American Dream.
But beneath the façade, lay a secret world of alcohol and drugs. Throughout my life, I learned how to control my addictions like other successful baby boomer addicts who appeared normal to everyone. I convinced myself that nobody knew my secrets.
I experienced decades of my life with daily hangovers that left me mentally exhausted and physically sick. My ugly descent finally ended when death looked me square in the face. I surrendered that life for a miraculous recovery some 46 years after the first beer on the day I turned eight years old.
My memories lay scattered, but my story is real and lives in the families of millions who used drugs and drank with me as I traveled through the events of my time.
I left my small town with a vague idea of my parents’ expectations for the better life they assumed would result from a college education. The reality of my college years was a deferment from Vietnam, a love for beer, and a taste for marijuana.
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My small town was nestled in a valley that ran through the Adirondack Mountains. In winter, the mountains stayed frigid with deep snow that was groomed above the tree line for expert skiing, with more gradual slopes near the bottom for beginners. It wasn’t always that way, though, as there were winters without much natural snow which meant little to no skiing.
During the long winters while temperatures settled below freezing, part of the school’s football field was turned into a skating rink that doubled as a hangout for teens.
In summer, the green of the forest made a lush backdrop to the clear blue lakes used for camping, swimming, and diving for things that could be seen 20 feet below the surface.
The town prospered as the seasonal traffic drove through the valley with skiers in the winter, vacationers in the summer and leaf peepers in autumn when the foliage sparkled.
The railroading was the employer in town so the men played sports together, stayed friends for life and shared a camaraderie that permeated throughout the village, giving people a respect for each other and a sense of pride for their community. Generations of men and boys in the valley spent their entire lives working on the railroad.
I was born into a generation of millions, the largest population explosion the country had ever experienced. Consequently, I was part of what became known as the first wave of baby boomers.
My childhood was typical of the simple lifestyles that defined the ’50s, when every