I’d Been Completely Blind.
David moved in with me after rehab. He introduced me to flaming hot potato chips and in return I helped him buy presents for his children, and I helped him get a job. He worked from (my) home telemarketing – for three days. Then he quit his job and left, calling me a couple of weeks later.
“I’m thinking about drinking again,” David said.
“I can’t stop you,” I said. And that was the end of our relationship.
I quickly found John, a bipolar guy who asked me to marry him so that I could sign him out of the insane asylum whenever he was committed. When he was, I bailed.
I jumped from John to …. Well, I jumped and jumped. As predicted in rehab, focusing on men kept me from focusing on myself. This “problem” went on until one night, sometime in 1995, when I literally cried during sex because I didn’t know how to say no.
That experience led me to a realization: There is no knight on a white horse who can save me.
I was raised on Disney. I’d been completely blind to this obvious fact.
I’d always needed to focus on myself, and I spent the first years of sobriety struggling through absurd (but sober!) relationships and wondering what was wrong with me.
In spite of years of AA meetings and getting to know a few people, I still didn’t know what the heck I was doing. I didn’t understand that I didn’t have to quit forever; I only had to quit for one day. When I realized that, things got easier.
I also learned H.A.L.T. – Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired – for craving management. Amazingly, I have never once wanted to drink when I wasn’t hungry, angry, lonely or tired. Never, in 33 years.
A rehab nurse told a story about addict mentality.
“Addiction is like being in a boxing ring with Mike Tyson,” she said. “You’re prepared to fight. You’ve trained; you’re ready! Then you’re knocked out in one punch. So you pull yourself up and decide you’re going to try harder. You train harder. Then you get back in the ring with Mike Tyson. And he still knocks you out in one punch.”
The rehab patients laughed. Mike Tyson was in his heyday as a world champion boxer so we all knew we’d be knocked out.
“So you try harder. You get a trainer. You train for weeks. You get really pumped. When you’re finally ready you get back into the ring. Maybe you throw a few punches. Then … Boom! You get knocked out in one punch.”
After that rehab, I was at a meeting sitting with my head in my hands, depressed, confused, unsure. I had no idea how AA was supposed to work for me.
Eyes closed, I saw a vision of a Mack truck – its giant front grill right next to my face, the monstrous truck looming over my 5-foot-4 frame.
That’s when I realized: I haven’t been fighting Mike Tyson. I’ve been fighting a Mack truck!
I saw my tiny self, uselessly punching the front bumper. I will never, ever win against a Mack truck.
Every time I’d ever picked up a drink, I’d lost control over what happened next. Outcomes were never based on what I wanted. Drinking meant I couldn’t choose anything in my life beyond obtaining and consuming another mood-altering substance.
And right then and there: I surrendered. I decided to do things differently. I gave up on trying to do everything my way and started listening to suggestions in AA.
That Mack truck vision changed my life.