[shadowalker164]

The last days...
Fear doesn't own me like it used to.
There was a time not that long ago when that wasn't so.

I sat in my studio one morning staring at an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels, and the biggest decision I had to make that day was, am I going to crack that seal open at 9:00 am or am I going to put it off till noon. I was going to open it, of that I was sure, it was only a question of when.

Then it struck me. Naked fear descended on me like a icy fog. I sat there so scared that I thought I might soil my pants. And I couldn't even tell you what I was so afraid of. No. that's not quite true, I know now what it was, I was projecting. I had had a bad week, I had had a bad month, Hell, I had had a bad year. And I was projecting that run of bad luck forward in time. Another 6 months of this was a hard thing to face. Another year was unimaginable. Years uncounted of this brand of misery folding out before me was simply unbearable.

Fear was all over me like the skin I wore. And it's as if everybody in my life could feel it, could smell it on me in some subliminal fashion. They were backing off, and I couldn't blame them. My whole world was falling apart. Everywhere across my horizon were nothing but dark storm clouds. And they were growing fast.

I screwed up as much courage as I could manage, and I told my wife that I was scared all the time. She got this look in her eyes like, "Oh no, I'm yoked in harness with this man, two kids, mortgage etc. and he's stumbling bad. He's fixing to fall flat on his *****." She looked scared too.

I made up my mind right then and there to never say anything to her about those feelings again. That left me pretty much alone. And then stuff got bad. Stuff got real bad. At that point I believed I had to drink and drug my demons away. I woke up in the morning and I couldn't stand the way I felt. A few drinks eased that feeling of impending doom, and after a bunch more, oblivion. That's all I had at the end. Ether a pain I could not tolerate, or a blind stupor. What a sorry deal. Alone and sinking fast.

But God has a strange sense of humor.
God wrapped up the finest gift I could imagine in wrapping paper that looked like pure misery.

My grand sponsor used to tell me all the time that his alcoholism was his best asset. I thought he was crazy the first time he told me that. I know what he meant now. That crisis in my life was the turning point. Out of the crucible of active, painful, pitiful alcoholism was borne a new man. It is a gift. And I never fail to say thank you for it.

I did not know what I did not know. I wasn't at all sure that what those guys in the rooms were telling me would work in my life, but I was blessed with no more good ideas.

This program may not work for everybody, but until a guy attempts to apply it in his life, he doesn't know if it will or will not work. And the deal is, if you don't like what you find, you can have your old life back, no questions asked.

Not one of us got to the rooms of AA on a winning streak. Not one of us was walking lightly with the birds singing overhead, a warm breeze at out backs and a smooth road ahead. Stuff has got to get real bad before we cry uncle. You may find many kindred spirits around the rooms if you take the time to look.

If you can identify with anything what I have written, cut yourself some slack,

On the road to the good stuff,
Richard S.