^{"My name is Tom and I am an alcoholic"}

Yes, I am a recovering alcoholic and drug addict. I had been drinking and drugging for 37yrs. I am now 50. I stopped a while ago on 07/15/02. I haven't had a drink or a drug since, YET! What follows will be my story, including both my active years and my journey through recovery. It is my experience, strength and hope laid out for the readers in the intent some may "identify" with the message in my story and it may hopefully assist them in their own recovery.

I was born in Brooklyn, N.Y. on 04/30/53. We lived at that time in a two story building on 99 ^th St. and 3 ^rd Ave. above, coincidentally a bar. I, like many others, had a difficult time growing up. There is a lot of madness that runs through my family, and I have been afflicted the worst. I have five distinct and different mental disorders. I also suffered a lot of abuse, mental, physical and sexual. Needless to say, by the time I was 12 it was already apparent I was "pretty messed up". My major shortcoming, both at that time and even now, was that I hadn't developed any sort of a true "identity". I didn't have anything to say who I was, no character. There was no "Tom". I relied instead on picking up the identities and character traits of others, becoming what I thought was something good, I was something. I was never a leader, always a follower.

Drinking entered the picture at that time. Like many, it started quite simply and innocently. A few beers in the woods with the guys. Of course I didn't refuse. Why should I? They were going to do it, therefore so would I. I had tasted my fathers beer before and remembered liking it. I had not yet gotten drunk. I did that night, though. The experience was absolute pure "nirvana"! I thought I had discovered the "elixir of the gods". I suddenly felt I'd found out who I was. I was happy being me, and comfortable in my own skin. All was right with the world. From that day forward, I always felt alcohol was "medicine", that it could cure anything. I truly loved drinking and getting drunk. Few, if any of the others drinking with me at that time felt the same way. A fact I unfortunately never realized. This is how my drinking began.

Drugs would soon enter the picture. By the time I was 15, I was drinking a quart of Seagram's 7 a day. I had made new friends, heavy drinkers like me and willing to experiment. We began with Pot, moved up to pills and LSD and finally Heroin. I found out along the way that mixing drugs and alcohol could induce a quite pleasurable state indeed. By the time I was 17 I was a complete alcoholic and drug addict, arrested many times for public intoxication and possession. I also found myself living on the streets, having been tossed out of the house by then. To survive I smuggled drugs up from N.J., sold drugs and became a thief. I got real lucky in that some of the things I was doing carried a mandatory sentence of life in prison with no parole. By the age of 20, I'd gotten tired of this lifestyle and decided to "clean up my act" and go back home, so I did.

On 12/20/73, my father got me into the "family" business, and I joined the Steamfitters’ Union local 638. I had no idea what to expect from the construction trades, but found out quickly. On my first day, I arrived on the job with my father and went into the shanty. Inside were perhaps 50 men. All white, all Irish, all drinking! I thought it a bit queer. Maybe they were celebrating something I thought. I quickly found out that day was like all the others. Steamfitters’, at least drank ALL day EVERY day. I thought I'd died and gone to drinkers heaven. Since I was already an alcoholic and drug addict (just didn't realize it) I just played the game like them and used and abused my way through a career that would last 25yrs. During this time my mental diseases worsened. I fell into a very deep, dark depression, a bottomless pit of despair. People would constantly ask me "who are you talking to?" I was unaware of anything wrong until I began to exhibit hand gestures I could not control. I apparently was carrying on a conversation with somebody who wasn't there. That's when I began the tour of psychiatrists, psychotherapists and mental institutions. Most would not give me any medication; they said I was an alcoholic. Eventually though they had to, but it didn't help. They told me not to drink on this medication, but of course I did. It was near the end of my career that something happened. I suddenly started to get ill, and it almost always happened when I tried to drink or drug. I began to refer to these episodes as my "alcohol allergies".

This is what would happen. I'd begin drinking and taking Vicodin and/or Xanax. I would find I couldn't finish my beer. My partner Jimmy would say, "what's the matter, T?" I'd just say, "I don't know, I just cant get them down today". I didn't feel like throwing up, I'd feel this terrible sensation go all through my body, telling me that something was wrong. I'd start to experience pain in my mid section, forcing me to undo my belt. This occurred on and off for many months, and finally I'd had enough and went to the doctor. I thought for sure I must have a stomach virus or perhaps a parasite. Nothing to do with drugs or alcohol, of course. The doctor examined me and ran several blood tests. In the end, he told me this: You have Hepatitis C and cirrhosis of the liver. He said you cannot drink alcohol if you have HepC, and inquired as to how I may have gotten the virus. I said I don't know, how does one get it? He told me either from sharing needles or a blood transfusion. Had I ever shared needles? No, I said. I knew then I'd done this to myself, my sins of the past from nearly 30yrs. ago. The year was 1999 and I tried in vain to stop drinking on my own and undergo Interferon therapy for HCV. I tried this three times, with no success. I'd been drinking through all my treatments. By the summer of 2002, I hit bottom.

At 2AM on the night of 07/14/02 I awoke violently ill. I threw up constantly till morning. Again, I thought I had a stomach virus or food poisoning. At 8AM, I quickly drank a beer. No sooner had I done that when I promptly threw it back up, and blacked out. Many hours later, I came to and tried it again. This time with an Alka-Seltzer. I threw that up and blacked out till the next day. On the morning of 07/15/02, I opened the refrigerator, looked inside for my beer and started to reach for one, but stopped. I don't know why or what stopped me but I did. Looking at them I said to myself "maybe Ill try and not drink, if only for one day". That thought had never occurred to me in 37yrs. And I didn't even know that what I was doing is something told to all recovering alcoholics. To keep it in the day, and take it "One Day at a Time". I suffered greatly for 30 days. I hadn't eaten for 4mos. and had been drinking 40-50 beers a day + Jack Daniels. In addition, I was consuming massive amounts of Vicodin, Xanax, various psychotropic drugs and interferon. I lost nearly 50lbs and turned pure yellow. It was obvious my liver was no longer functioning and I was near death. I awaited the inevitable. It never came. After 30 days of absolute hell I was finally able to stand and see, so I went to my Hepatologist for help. She ran an emergency liver biopsy and some blood tests. She told me I was in end stage, and one more drink would kill me. She said also that she knew I would do just that, as I was in her opinion a "hopeless alcoholic". I needed help and I must get it at A.A. The whole situation was horrible. How could I possibly go the rest of my life without ever being able to drink again? This is how I began my recovery. I did go to A.A. and joined a home group, got a sponsor, took commitments and went to (and still do) at least one meeting everyday. My sponsor and I (I call him EVERY day) worked on the steps and on "changing" me, getting me to understand that I was indeed an alcoholic and that alcohol was the root cause of all my problems, NOT HepC! It was a long and arduous journey, but one marked with success, not failure.

I have to mention something that happened to me in early sobriety. The many years of drinking and drugging had taken their toll on my mind. Three months into recovery, I tried to take my life and that of someone else's. Apparently, I could not handle "real life". I had hid inside a bottle for too long, hoping the demons would go away. Without the booze, I was lost. Or so I thought. Back in a mental hospital I came under the care of a most kind and understanding psychiatrist. He worked with me for a long time. He told me what was happening to me and why. I am diagnosed as severely clinically depressed, bi-polar type 2, OCD, PTSD and lastly dissociative identity disorder (DID). I have finally found the proper combination of medications for my illnesses and an excellant psychotherapist.

Today, I'm still working my program. I have a higher power whom I choose to call God and a fervent desire to stay sober. I really want it! You can get what I have also. Simply say "I've had enough, I want stop. I want to become sober and stay that way". Get yourself to A.A. (preferably a beginners meeting) introduce yourself as a newcomer and just listen. Follow their lead, and that of others. Hopefully you will succeed. You'll never know until you've tried.

Well, that's my story. What I've just done is called sharing, and it's performed at all A.A. meetings. My story's no better or worse than others, nor even yours. If you'd like, you can contact me and tell me some of your story, if you're a bit shy. Just bear in mind if you really want it , go to a meeting. You'll find what you're looking for.

Best of luck

TJM

"There's a part of every living thing that wants to become itself: the tadpole into the frog, the chrysalis into the butterfly, a damaged human being into a whole one. That is spirituality"

~ Ellen Bass