ArcticArtique

Hi everybody, I’m back in New Mexico! I enjoyed my time at home but it wasn’t nearly long enough. It never is. I’ve been trying to write for a few nights now, but have had a bit of writer’s block. I just couldn’t think of anything interesting to talk about. I think that just changed.

I realized just a few minutes ago, that today is my birthday. I’m not a year older today. My age number didn’t increase. Today, 11 March 2017 is a milestone for me. I have been sober now for 13 years today! Happy birthday to me!

I can no longer remember my first drink. Like most other kids, I was somewhere around 15 or 16 when a buddy and I snuck one of his dad’s beers. I was instantly hooked. I didn’t like the taste but I sure liked the effect of liquid courage.

Just about everybody in high school drank back in the day. I fit right in even though I didn’t fit in. I thought they were laughing with me, not at me. I was the life of the party. I was cool.

A few years after high school, I joined the Navy. What good sailor doesn’t drink? I learned how to maintain and love helicopters. I sailed the world. I saw the inside of every bar from San Diego to Philippines to Australia. I was a good sailor. I got drunk with everybody! Alcohol made me fit in.

I went to a technical college when I got out. We had beers for lunch! I worked nights in a mini-mart. We sold lots of liquor. I stocked the shelves. A lot for the customer…a little for me. I drove the back roads late at night after work. Always had a six pack. It made me fit in. Even by myself.

Finally got my job in the civilian helicopter world. Helicopter guys like beer after a long day of work. I worked a lot of long days, so lots of beer for me!

I always liked live music. Live music is played in bars. Bars serve beer. You can’t listen to live music without a beer in your hand. It was cheap in those days. I still drove home broke. Why I never got busted or dead alongside the road, I’ll never know.

I learned to play golf. Stopped at the 19^th hole before I teed off. Stopped at the 19^th hole when I made the turn. Stopped at the 19^th hole after I finished 18. Cart girls brought beer to me on the course. I hated golf, but I liked beer.

My disease progressed. I drank more every year. I was no longer the life of the party. It was just life. I no longer fit in. Liquid courage didn’t work anymore. I was past the point of being drunk. I just got more and more bizarre every day. I was afraid of my own shadow. I thought I was going crazy. I had no idea I lived on the spectrum.

I got depressed. It was a downward spiral. The more I drank, the more depressed I got. The more depressed I got, the more I drank. It was a very vicious and unforgiving circle. I thought I was going mad. I had a nervous breakdown at work. I ended up in the emergency room. From there I saw a shrink.

I had a lot of fun over the years. I partied my ass off. I’ve seen places and done things most can only dream about. I forgot most of it because I was drunk. I almost took my life before I made my decision to stop.