Going back to the day I was arrested I was placed in a cell wishing [...]]]> Here I lay in this jail thinking, with eighteen days and supposedly one more day to go, but I doubt it being that Hurricane Irene left such a flood that it most likely will cancel courts in Patterson, New Jersey.

Going back to the day I was arrested I was placed in a cell wishing I didn’t come back to my place of birth and wished I would have just stayed in New York where I live… and then afterwards a question of choice came to me: Doing a drug for your freedom or being in this cell?

A chuckle and a smile came to my face revealing the thought… I would get high rather than be locked-up.

Eighteen days has changed the answer to that question. I’ve come to realize a Higher Power put me here to sit down and speak with me.  I’m glad I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

In reality, my addiction was reinforced by places like this.  Prisons and jails played a strongly wrong role in my thinking, attitude, and behavior.

These eighteen days and the desire to live sober and change my life has allowed me to see things for what they really are and not what they represent themselves to be.  This is a place that can not be housing me anymore.

By me being in places like this for a large portion of my life, I’ve missed a great deal of important family events (from the tragic to the joyous).

This sit down has got me to really see that my drug addiction and crime go hand in hand; I can’t deal with one without living the other.

Since March 2011, the beginning of my desire to be clean, I’ve relapsed twice.  Today, I have 44 days clean (Aug 31, 2011).

Truth be told, if it wasn’t for the police picking me up on a old warrant I may have relapsed again or may even be dead from the powers that be.  I say that because I was up to no good. Looking for money in the wrong place and in the wrong way; those same actions caused me to end up with drugs in my hands and relapse the first and second times that I relapsed.

Even though I’m presently in jail, I’m also enrolled at Hi-Tech training school for heavy equipment operating in New Jersey (Plainfield).  I found myself using the need for transportation expenses to get to school and back to New York as a reason to walk the path of my wicked ways… and it always happened to happen on the weekends.  Yes, I need “extended to the bonus” time management on the weekends.

Being in here has given me one more look.  Not only can my drug addiction cause the death of me, but it has also opened my eyes to the fact that certain ways of getting into trouble can blow my opportunity of school and a decent career.

That is just a layer of the onion with what, whys, when, and how my addiction and the way to my recovery.  There may also be the death of my father in my very face, the death of my grandmother who I so desperately wanted to see me become a better person constructively, the death of a very much missed uncle who looked at himself as having morals and proper etiquettes in street life.  Ha! Ha! Ha! Isn’t that sort of funny!  But truth be told: what he taught me kept me alive and allowed God, I truly believe, to give me grace because my heart isn’t and wasn’t poisoned, polluted, and cruel without regard for anyone.

Before his death, he always made sure that I kept in my heart: Old people and children are sacred and friends are to be cherished not crossed.

I’m an alcoholic/addict who made bad decisions.  I wrote this because I was told what I put in my recovery is what I am going to get out of it.  I also wrote this to build a network and make new friends because it was said to me I need to change my people, places, and things.

To me it doesn’t matter whether you’re a male or female.  A person is a person and both are possible future true friends whose friendship I will cherish and respect.

That’s not [...]]]> My name is Esther and I am an alcoholic.  My sobriety date is August 11, 2002.  I got sober in New York City when I was 23 years old.  At first, I thought I might be too young to be in the rooms; I had yet to get married, divorced, lose property, etc.

That’s not my story because, I started drinking when I was in grade school and had my first run in with the police when I was seventeen years old.  I was hanging out with people that accepted all of me, drunk and all. I was also hanging around drug dealers and such.  Anyway, I had it programmed in my head that this was it and this was the way of life, my life. I had envisioned that I would die with a bottle in my hand and other drunks would come and pour some of their 40s out for me; leaving the rest for themselves.

They say to amuse God, make plans.  And that’s exactly what I did.  My friends and I all planned to be dead by twenty-three.  Instead, God brought me to the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous at that age.  I ended up in the hospital after my last suicide attempt had failed, again.  I went home and thought, “Why God?  Why am I still here? What the fuck? WHY? I can’t do this anymore I can’t live like this anymore.”

My friend called me to go out and I met her at a bar in the village.  I ordered a glass of wine to start off with and shots to keep coming.  I had a sip of wine and just could not stomach it.  I felt so disgusted with the wine, with myself. I was surprised because I had felt that before at a time or two. Like: here I go again, but I would ignore it. This time was different.

I ended up going to my sister’s house and thought about AA since I always joked about being an alcoholic.  I looked up AA in New York because I didn’t want anyone to see me go to a meeting in New Jersey–where people knew me. I found a meeting that would end up being home. A couple of women came straight towards me as if they knew I was new. I was like: whoa they can see me? I was trying to sneak in and sit in the back. It was as if I had a spotlight on me. I was shaking and sick. I didn’t know how I got there, but I had arrived.  They took me to breakfast and I learned to about H.A.L.T. (Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired).

I was told don’t forget to eat, go to meetings, and call women.  I learned the basics of bathing.  I didn’t hear much in the beginning. A woman who shared one day said, “I had a screw driver in one hand and a cigarette in the other.” I was like: that woman has to be my sponsor. I asked her and she said she would be my sponsor on three conditions: I had to call her everyday, go to meetings everyday, and read the big book. I said ok; I was desperate. I called when I knew she wouldn’t pick up the phone. That didn’t work for too long because I actually needed to talk to her.

I went to meetings in New York, still not knowing what I was doing, but I went. I eventually gained counting day buddies. I cried all the time.  I was angry. I questioned what was happening to me and if I really belonged here. When I told my sponsor about this, she told me to read my story again and that Figure it Out is not a slogan. I didn’t get it. I just trusted that she would not steer me wrong. I had nothing else to lose.  One morning, that same meeting was held not in the basement, but in the church above.  A man shared and something clicked. I cried and cried. The best way I can describe it was old Esther dying and a new Esther was coming out. I felt God and G.O.D (Group of Drunks).  I felt as if I was at my funeral and people just kept coming up to me afterwards with hugs and so much love.  The heavy armor I was carrying began to shed little by little.  In that moment I knew: yes this is where I belong.

Many A.A. groups hang the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions on the wall during meetings, so I was aware of them from the early days of my sobriety, but I was a few years sober before I remember hearing anyone mention the 12 Concepts for World [...]]]> by Amber S.
sober since April 11, 2002

Many A.A. groups hang the 12 Steps and 12 Traditions on the wall during meetings, so I was aware of them from the early days of my sobriety, but I was a few years sober before I remember hearing anyone mention the 12 Concepts for World Service. I wondered what they were at the time but didn’t ask anyone out of fear of looking stupid.

For several years I focused on my personal recovery through the Steps—out of the Big Book with a sponsor—and learned enough about the Traditions to get by in business meetings and serve my home group through various commitments. My life changed. I felt useful to others and began to like myself. My obsession to drink and use was lifted. I was content with my program and with what it was doing for me.

At eight years sober, I attended the 52nd ICYPAA here in New York City and heard the Friday night speaker describe what general service had done for her life and sobriety. At one point she added, “But it’s not for everyone. If it’s not your thing, that’s OK.” I thought, “Yeah, it’s just not my thing. I work the steps and sponsor women. I have a home group and a service commitment. That’s enough.” But somewhere I knew it wasn’t enough—because A.A. had saved my life. I came here broken and wanting to die, with a painful spiritual void that I only knew how to treat with drugs and alcohol, and A.A. gave me a real solution to my problem—well before I ever gave anything to A.A.

I certainly didn’t come here looking to serve my fellows and a Power greater than myself, but I discovered that this is the ideal I must strive for if I want to keep the gift of my sobriety. It occurred to me at that ICYPAA meeting that maybe there was more work to be done. And so, I became open to serving A.A. in a new way, open to further aligning my actions with the purpose of our Fellowship, which is summarized beautifully in the pamphlet “Circles of Love and Service”:

“All parts of our Fellowship—group meetings, committees, offices, Conferences, and group jobs—have one joint purpose: to help that one newcomer who has a drinking problem.
But in order for A.A. to run itself, we have to have a system for finding out how A.A. as a whole feels about its world affairs, and how it wants to operate.
We need constant, honest communications from one part of A.A. to every other, furnishing a wide cross section of A.A. experience. The General Service Conference makes that possible.
(Of course, neither the Conference, the General Service Board, nor any A.A. committee or office has any power to govern anyone in A.A. ‘Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.’)
You and I may not need a General Service Conference today, to insure our own recovery. But what about the millions of sick alcoholics still stumbling out there in the dark?
When they come trying to find us, we want each of them to get the same loving help we all had. The Conference—and the whole general service system—has that responsibility: to keep A.A. alive and well for those yet to come.”

At the next business meeting of my home group, I stood for General Service Representative and was elected. At this point I knew a little about the service structure and the purpose of the Concepts (to provide the framework for A.A. to operate as a world-wide organization), but my understanding of their meaning was limited at best.

I attended my first area assembly, registered as a G.S.R., and received a copy of the Service Manual. Reading through the short form of the Concepts, the ideas were inaccessible to me. I understood the text, but having no direct experience to relate it to, nothing stuck.

Thankfully the district of which my home group is a part had recently started a Concepts Workshop. Meeting on the first Wednesday of every month immediately following the district meeting I was expected to attend as a G.S.R., it was easy for me to commit to. Each month a past Delegate (or other A.A. member involved in general service) shared their experience with one of the Concepts and answered questions after. These first-hand accounts of experience at the General Service Conference and with other A.A. service began to unlock my understanding of the Concepts by giving me the concrete examples I had been missing. Of course, I still have a long way to go, but this method of learning has been very effective for me.

At the Concepts Workshop, I’ve learned about the importance of the collective conscience of our Fellowship and what role the Conference plays in communicating that; I’ve learned about leadership and rights of decision, participation, and appeal; and I’ve learned about the business and structure of A.A. But perhaps most importantly, I’ve learned that the ultimate responsibility for world service lies within the groups, and that every group with a G.S.R. has a voice at the Conference.

I am grateful for the people who gave their time and energy to start such a useful meeting so that I might try to be a more informed and effective G.S.R. for my group. Again and again in A.A., I encounter individuals reaching out and working together—people saved from alcoholic torture who are willing to serve “to keep A.A. alive and well for those yet to come.”

Note from NYCYPAA:

A 12 concepts workshop meets in the same building as NYCYPAA.  All A.A. members are welcome!

12 CONCEPTS WORKSHOP
N.Y.U Bronfman Center
7 East 10th Street, 2nd Floor 10003
Meets on the 1st Wednesday of the month at 8 p.m.

My name is Sam J. and I am an addict and an alcoholic. I was born and raised in New York City. My mother is a recovering alcoholic and from a very young age she told me to be careful with alcohol because alcoholism and addiction run very thick in [...]]]> Sober since: June 20, 2008

My name is Sam J. and I am an addict and an alcoholic. I was born and raised in New York City. My mother is a recovering alcoholic and from a very young age she told me to be careful with alcohol because alcoholism and addiction run very thick in my family. I stayed away from drugs and alcohol for a long time because of what my mother told me, but eventually curiosity killed the cat. I was 14 years old and it was the summer between middle school and high school when I smoked pot for the first time. I loved the feeling and when I entered high school I immediately found the people who liked to drink and do drugs.

I began hanging out with these kids and started doing drugs with them. I eventually was introduced to alcohol and felt the ‘I have arrived’ feeling. I made it my mission to get drunk as much as possible whenever I could. Throughout this time, drugs and alcohol began to affect my life in negative ways. I was almost failing most of my classes and my relationship with my parents was dwindling. I noticed that whenever I drank, I couldn’t stop. I would black out and become very violent and angry.

My friend ended up introducing me to opiates which also gave me that ‘I have arrived’ feeling. I revised my original mission so that it read: Sam, get drunk and use opiates as much as possible whenever possible. Whenever I was drunk or on opiates I felt like I could take on the world and that I didn’t care about anything and I loved feeling like that. Throughout this time, there was always a voice telling me in the back of my head that I might have a problem, but I chose to ignore it. Eventually, my mother me when I was completely hammered and I ended up going to my first AA meeting when I was 15. I went to the meeting but I left early because I felt like I couldn’t relate because everyone in the meeting was over twice my age. I started seeing a therapist to convince my mother that I was sober.

I kept using drugs and alcohol and my therapist eventually convinced me to go to a young peoples meeting. I went and found a group of people who were near my age and had similar stories to mine. I also found everyone to be very welcoming and friendly. I continued to use drugs and alcohol but still went to the meeting every week. I began lying about the amount of sober time that I had. I kept using and in January of 2008 I began a six month alcohol and opiate bender that would end with me getting sober.

Throughout this time, everything began to spiral downward quickly. I lost almost sixty pounds in a couple months, my hands began to shake, my body began to itch, my mental health began to deteriorate, I started losing my friends, I lost the trust of my parents and I felt like killing myself on a regular basis. June 19, 2008 was my last day using and I ended up at a young people’s meeting. I became honest about the amount of time that I actually had and everyone was still very friendly and welcoming. I told people that I was sick and tired of using, feeling suicidal, and feeling like a shell of a human being. People listened and shared their experience, strength, and hope with me. I decided to give sobriety a try.

I began going to meetings everyday, hanging out with sober people and I also started working the steps with a sponsor. My life began to improve almost immediately. I felt happy again for the first time in years. I’ve found that the best way to stay sober is to go to meetings as much as possible, do service, and work the steps. I’ve also found that a relationship with a higher power is vital to staying sober. Over the last three years I have developed a relationship with one that has helped me through a lot of things.

I’ve also learned that sobriety is not always easy. I’ve gone through a lot in sobriety. I’ve had my heart broken, seen many close friends go out and also had a sponsor go out. What got me through those things was going to meetings, working the steps, calling my sponsor, doing service, and depending on my higher power. I got sober as a 17 year old addict and alcoholic of the hopeless variety and now I’m a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous that is employable and capable of showing up for my friends and family.

I’m not a perfect person and have made mistakes in sobriety but I know I can better myself by continuing to go to meetings and work the steps. Alcoholics Anonymous has given me a life beyond my wildest dreams. I now have friends who I can trust and rely on, I have the trust of my family and I am happy. From working the steps, going to meetings, doing service, and having a higher power, I finally know what it is like to live a life that is happy, joyous, and free. It may sound cliché but it is completely true.

sober since January 16, 2010

I used to spend most of my time struggling,
Straining my mind
All just to find the perfect combination
of good intentions
and bad behaviors,
that would buy me another day
just one more day

to hang out

and [...]]]> a poem by Nadia S.

sober since January 16, 2010

I used to spend most of my time struggling,
Straining my mind
All just to find the perfect combination
of good intentions
and bad behaviors,
that would buy me another day
just one more day

to hang out

and to smoke
and drink
and bullshit.

It was exhausting.

Hearing myself repeat,
Tomorrow
And
Tomorrow
and tomorrow
like a scratched CD
that jams at the same place every time.

The funny thing about tomorrow
is that it’s just today delayed.

It’s been a very crooked, shaky little path I’ve traveled.
Circling back on myself
In an attempt to get away from that one truth
That seemed to follow me everywhere I went.

And yet, there it was
in the corner of my eye
on the tip of my tongue.
The whole time.

Although I don’t know how to put it into words exactly,
I can remember sitting in my kitchen
When I was just a little girl
and wondering
if maybe life is nothing more than just some long, drawn out dream
wondering
who the dreamer could be.

And now,
Being so much more aware of all my shortcomings,
I know what I have to do,
but I don’t want to,
please
not yet.
Is there not some fast forward button to enlightenment?
A shortcut?

It feels like I’ve been having this one moment of realization
all my life
And though I would love to let it fully take me over,
I also want to lie and steal and cheat.
I want both.

Still, on a good day I’m a Bhuddist monk,
calm
centered
enveloped by a golden, soundless Om.
I am the yolk inside the egg,
Radiating from within
And though all that you see of me is the fragile, white shell
And though the world thinks it can make an omelet out of me
nothing can penetrate my suit of armor,
truth
my truth,
which on a good day I am sure of and on a not so good day
all I am sure of
is that I’m about to crack.

My name is Vinny and I am an alcoholic and addict. I don’t come from an alcoholic family. I lost my father at a young age and I looked towards the streets to raise me. I guess I was looking for a father figure and most of the people I [...]]]> Sober since: December 19, 2004

My name is Vinny and I am an alcoholic and addict. I don’t come from an alcoholic family. I lost my father at a young age and I looked towards the streets to raise me. I guess I was looking for a father figure and most of the people I hung out with were older than me; they taught me how to fight and how to drink. I started drinking alcoholically at the age 13. When I turned 16 I found out that you can drop out of school. So I did and worked construction. I was also living in Long Island with my girlfriend at the time and joined the fire department. I thought I had it all: loving the fire department and my job and had my cars.

If you’ve never been on a union construction site, your union card gives you the right to drink and use dry goods on the job (not exactly). Drinking turned into an everyday thing and I had to get drunk just to fall asleep at night. I was diagnosed with lots of stomach and colon problems and the doctor told me I had to stop drinking, that I was going to die by the age of 25 but that didn’t stop me. I was on a job site three blocks from the World Trade Center but I called out sick on September 11 because I was hung over more than usual. I got called into work for the cleanup but I treated it as a party. All I remember was drinking Jack Daniels and 22s while operating an eighty ton bulldozer, treating it as if it were a party.

I went to my first AA meeting on my 18th birthday. I went for everyone else, not for myself, so it didn’t work.

At age 19, all I cared about was dating, racing cars, and construction. One year after that, I noticed my life was falling apart. I couldn’t hold a relationship. I was getting fired from jobs every two weeks. On December 18, 2004 I had my first full-blown blackout. I woke up the next day in my bedroom and had no idea how I got there. My knees hit the floor and felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. That was my bottom.

On December 19, 2004, I made an AA meeting. This time I was doing this for myself. I only drank legally for 11 months. I jumped into AA with both feet. I did everything they told me to do. The steps are great. My favorite step is the third step. I am not religious but spiritual. I had a difficult time understanding the whole higher power thing but my sponsor helped me with that. The person I see as my higher power was the chaplain of the fire department who died during in September 11. He is also known as the Saint of 9/11. He was a priest, recovering alcoholic, and gay. From the day I got sober, I wished there was a young people’s meeting and found one when I had eight months. I think it is such a blessing that people my own age get this so early…by me being in sobriety, I can hold a job and relationships I now love life. I love being an EMT for the FDNY and couldn’t be happier. I owe my job to AA because today I can live a normal life and save lives as a return to my higher power. God bless you Father Mychal F Judge, the chaplain of the FDNY: 5/11/33-9/11/01.

Although my first drink was Halloween of freshman year in high school, my alcoholic behaviors began years before that. As the youngest of four girls, I always felt in the shadows and uncertain of who I was suppose to be. I come from a long history of alcoholism. In my [...]]]> Sober since: March 7, 2010

Although my first drink was Halloween of freshman year in high school, my alcoholic behaviors began years before that. As the youngest of four girls, I always felt in the shadows and uncertain of who I was suppose to be. I come from a long history of alcoholism. In my family, it was normal to either be completely wasted or in AA.

When I was young, I always felt uncomfortable. In kindergarten I would sweep the classroom during play time because I couldn’t make friends. “Mom! Brigette is copying/following me,” was a daily complaint I would hear from my older sister. This killed my self-esteem and made it really hard to get close to people because I felt that I was a burden. Before alcohol was available, I turned to food for comfort. I was always told I would “blow up” one day if I continued to eat the way I did. In high school, I did “blow up.”

Freshman year of high school my drinking began. It was a magical night. Although I did not black out or puke all over, that time was not far away. I finally felt at ease with myself and I could talk to everyone. Soon enough, I was drinking every weekend. That summer I also became bulimic. That was a huge weight and strain to carry. I played basketball in high school and was so miserable. I went to a very strict Catholic school and absolutely hated it. I blamed my parents, the popular kids, my coaches, and basically everyone else for my misery. The people I got wasted with were okay in my book.

Everyday I would come home from practice, sometimes at 9pm after being out since 6am, exhausted, starved, and depressed. I would eat the balanced meal that my mom would make and then wait until I was alone to binge and purge for hours. I felt so alone. Every night I would say, “I will not purge tomorrow,” but always did because I had no coping skills. This is how my high school career went. Basketball, bulimia, wasted on the weekends.

Senior year I made the first decision of my life and decided not to play basketball for my high school team. I was playing on about three other teams but that was not enough for my parents. Everyday I would hear “Do you wish you were still playing?” “NO!” was my answer every time but the guilt began to sink in. I began to smoke pot heavily that year to deal with all the guilt and shame of not playing and still dealing with my eating disorder. At first it was so fun. Me and my friends would get so high, laugh our asses off and then I could binge comfortably in front of people because I had the “munchies.”

One night, I was wasted and decided to have a party in my basement while my dad was home. He came down and kicked everyone out. I was so embarrassed and drunk that I ran upstairs and swallowed 40 Tylenol. Thank God that they were non-aspirin or I would have died without a doubt. I was rushed by a friend to the ER and had my stomach pumped. Being still wasted in the ER, I turned over to my mother and I told her about my eating disorder. This was a huge relief. Finally I did not carry this burden alone.

Three days later, I was drunk. Like nothing ever happened. I went to therapy once a week and saw a psychiatrist. I was so resistant to help and change. I was again alone with my eating disorder and alcoholism except now everyone knew about it.

College was another shit show. I was a huge party girl. Seven nights out of the week, I was drunk and/or high. I made friends so easily because I smoked so much pot that I fit right in with all the other stoners. It was a lot of fun for a while. In April of that year, my best friend at school fell off his top bunk and died in his sleep. That changed everything. I became so depressed and my whole outlook on life changed dramatically. Sophomore year, I would spend days on the couch. My RA would even smoke with me because he felt bad for me. I could not handle living at school anymore, so I left and came home.

After three more years of my eating disorder, a lot of pot smoking, and countless blackouts, I was so emotionally and physically drained. I could not handle life anymore. I told my parents that I needed help and wanted to go to a treatment center for my eating disorder. Three weeks later I was in a treatment center for my eating disorder in Florida. I was scared to death. I realized there that I absolutely had to get sober or I would never combat this eating disorder. I went to meetings twice a week while in rehab. I have two older sisters who had gotten sober a year prior. I saw the change in them that I wanted so bad. I could not deal with life anymore the way I had been. I had met my boyfriend two years before entering into treatment. He has gotten sober as well.

My sobriety date is March 7, 2010. Since getting sober, my life has changed dramatically. The first few months were extremely tough. I jumped right into the steps because I knew that that is how alcoholics change and achieve serenity. Although I have not been sober a great deal of time, I have never been more at peace with myself. I have not purged since before entering into treatment in December 2009. I have more fun now than I ever did when I was drinking. I am so grateful for AA, my higher power, and the friends I have made. Just for today, I show up for the people I care about and try to do the next right thing.

I was born in New York City and grew up in Yonkers, a suburb about 15 minutes north of Manhattan. I was the middle child of three, with an older brother and younger sister. My family was typical for the neighborhood; middle-class with a Catholic school education, but had ultra-religious beliefs. [...]]]> Sober since: November 25, 2004

I was born in New York City and grew up in Yonkers, a suburb about 15 minutes north of Manhattan. I was the middle child of three, with an older brother and younger sister. My family was typical for the neighborhood; middle-class with a Catholic school education, but had ultra-religious beliefs. In fact, my father is a priest. As soon as I was old enough to rebel against those beliefs, I did. For many reasons growing up, I felt that I didn’t belong. I wasn’t like other kids. I was different. I know today it was my alcoholism that had me believe that, but back then I truly wasn’t comfortable in my own skin. Until I found alcohol, that is.

I was around 15 when I first got drunk and, wow, did I find myself. I was instantly normal, maybe even better than normal. “I had arrived,” like Bill W. writes in his story. I found that inner peace and ease that I was searching for all my life. Every opportunity I had to get drunk, I did. I went from a pretty good student to barely passing. My priority was to get drunk and surround myself with people who liked to drink. I barely graduated from high school and had no real plans of ever growing up or building a future for myself.

My parents divorced when I was around 18. I had not been very self-sufficient up until then and it became apparent (to my mother and sister with whom I was sharing a one-bedroom apartment) that my drinking was becoming a problem. Faced with the threat to clean up my act or get out, I decided to live in my car. I was employed two days a week at a bar and the remaining days I spent the money I had made in that very same bar. I spent some nights in the car and some on friends’ couches. I was homeless awhile until I moved in with my friend’s mother and wasn’t even able to come up with a few hundred dollars a month for rent. My car broke down and life was starting to become pretty bad. I was a daily drinker at this point.

My father relocated out of state and suggested I make a geographic change. So I did. I thought if I change my environment things would get better and for a short time, on the outside, they did. I was able to get a job and enroll in a community college. Though it took over three years I was successful in getting a two-year Associates degree. I would make monthly trips back to NY and on these trips it would be one big party. When drunk I liked playing the big shot, I blew lots of money in bars and started to rack up credit card debt. I hated staying in one place and was rarely satisfied with where I was so I found escape in driving my car. When I wanted to leave and go somewhere else I would, whether in a blackout or not. Our Big Book talks about being “restless, irritable, and discontented” unless I put that drink in me and I again get that inner peace and ease. One night, I got arrested for a DWI and spent the night in jail. The next day I swore I would never drink and drive again. I lost my license for one year because I was under 21 when I received the DWI. That didn’t stop me. Many other warning signs of a drinking problem were apparent to others but still I couldn’t see it.

I realize today that once I have just one drink and the craving kicks in I want more and more. That physical allergy combined with a mental obsession (my constant thoughts of drinking) and spiritual malady (my soul sickness) makes me a real alcoholic. But at this point in time, I didn’t know any of this and I couldn’t even see that drinking was a problem. I really thought I was just unlucky and that the world wasn’t fair.

After college I moved back to NY and, while my drinking continued, I managed to keep a good facade up to the outside world that things were okay, thanks in large part to the almost thirty-thousand dollars in debt I had racked up. I had a car, a girl, an apartment and other material things, but on the inside I was dying.

Driving home in a blackout on a holiday eve in 2004, I don’t remember anything except the sound of broken glass and metal being cut. The firemen had to use the “jaws of life” to cut me out of my car. I broke my leg and had other injuries but that paled in comparison to the damage I had caused.

After being rushed to the hospital and into surgery I awoke to my mother and sister standing over my bed which I was handcuffed to. Through tears in their eyes they told me that I had taken someone’s life. I wanted to die. I had no escape. I was 25 years old and my world was over. What had my life come to? I wished for the end. It was a month until I got bailed out of jail and had a choice to make, either go to AA or kill myself. I was utterly hopeless.

The choice ended up being AA. I went to my first meeting where something was being read and people were sharing about the reading, but my mind wasn’t really there. A few guys cornered me and welcomed me. I wasn’t convinced AA would fix my life but I had no other choice. I saw happy, sober people in the meetings and I was welcomed at every meeting I attended. I began the process of recovery from a hopeless state of mind and body. I started working the 12 steps with a sponsor and was told that I needed them in my life before I was to go off to prison. I made a meeting a day and I developed a relationship with a Higher Power that today I believe, has had a plan for me all along. I will not be able to make full amends for my past but I trust that by continuing to live a sober life in AA, the rest will be determined by my Higher Power.

The spiritual awakening I have had, as the result of working the steps, has been amazing. God truly does for me what I cannot do for myself. I spent four years of a six year sentence in NYS prison and learned a great deal about myself. I was able to make meetings behind bars and hopefully help spread the message. All along the way I believe my Higher Power has protected me and guided me in putting one foot in front of the other to pick up the pieces of my life. I was released from prison and very grateful for life. I was able to go to the AA World Convention and be in a meeting of over six-thousand people. The moment of silence was awe-inspiring and seemed only a dream of mine from that prison cell. Today I am a free man in so many ways. I am truly happy. I have a job and am back in school. I have a newfound place in society and am a part of my family again, fully present and sober every day. I do my best to live in steps 10, 11 and 12, along with sponsorship and service work, because I have to give back what was so freely given to me.

Writing my story, I am reminded of my favorite promise from the Big Book “no matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others” and my hope is that my experience may help someone. I believe that our hardships can be a pathway to peace.

Finally I wanted to quote from the book that has saved my life and is the most valuable tool that AA has given me. This is a good summary of what AA is all about. Page 164 of Alcoholics Anonymous reads, “Abandon yourself to God as you understand God. Admit your faults to Him and to your fellows. Clear away the wreckage of your past. Give freely of what you find and join us. We shall be with you in the Fellowship of the Spirit, and you will surely meet some of us as you trudge the Road of Happy Destiny. May God bless you and keep you until then.” This is hope from the truly hopeless.