Chapter 50

She is crying on the other end of the phone.

I love hearing her voice but hearing her cry makes me feel a little helpless. I can't really do anything for her but listen. I can picture her sitting alone in those phonebooths at the bottom of the stairs.

We talk for a long time. I am very happy that I was home when the phone rang and she tells me that she is glad I was there to answer. She gets out next week and I tell her that I want to cook her dinner.

You can cook?

Dang straight I can cook woman!

I guess we'll see.

There is a nice hint of flirtation in this that makes me smile and for the first time I think that maybe Lacey and I have a little something brewing.

She has to get going and I reluctantly let her.

Once again it is night and once again I am alone with myself. I sit down with my Big Book and another book that Jeff told me to get called Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions. He referred to it as "The 12 and 12".

I know that I am willing to do whatever he tells me to do. I barely know him but for some reason I trust him.

I read the first chapter in the 12 and 12. It outlines what step one is all about. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and our lives had become unmanageable. It all comes down to one word for me.

Humility.

This first step is all about humbling myself.

For the first time in my life I really have to admit that I don't have everything under complete control. I am hopeless when it comes to alcohol and drugs.

They own me.

I take out a piece of paper and I fold it in half lengthwise. On the top of the left side I write the word "Powerless" and on the top of the right side I write "Unmanageable".

The numbers one through ten line the left outside edge.

It doesn't take me long at all to make the list. My disease has left me with enough personal scars to make a couple of these. I don't just write this out to get it done or because Jeff told me to.

I am doing this because I believe the only way to get real sobriety is to do the work. To become honest enough with myself that I can admit I am weak. I know that to some this admission wouldn't be hard at all. It is the hardest thing in the world for me to do.

I know that there is only one way to go through fire.

You walk a straight line right through it.

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I am uncomfortable in my own skin.

I am shaking quite a bit.

My stomach is in complete knots and that familiar calling is ringing in my head. It is like it controls me and it knows exactly how to get to me. I hate this feeling more than anything else in the world.

This one won't let up.

Sweat begins to form on my forehead and the palms of my hands.

I have to feed this.

If it is the last thing I do I have to feed this.

I am downstairs in no time at all and I am rummaging through every cupboard. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. My insides are screaming.

I am literally clearing out the cupboards with sweeps of my arms. Glasses are falling to the kitchen floor and breaking at my feet.

I could care less.

I have one thing on my mind and the rest just doesn't matter. Nothing matters at all to me when I am chasing my high or my drink.

Nothing.

I can't think of anything else. It doesn't matter what I just went through.

I find the half a fifth of Jack above the fridge and I don't even hesitate. I tilt the bottle to my lips and I swallow mouthfuls. The bottle is drained in two swigs.

More.

I have to have more. I crossed the line and now it is pointless to turn back. I want more. I want blackness. I want death.

What I am doing finally sinks in.

All of the work and all of my time is gone.

The hatred rises in me.

How could I let myself do this?

I run into the bathroom and I stand over the toilet and force my finger into the back of my throat. If I can get this poison out of my body maybe it will be alright. I throw up nothing but blood.

I splatter blood all over the toilet and the floor.

Rage.

I look and see my reflection in the mirror.

I scream at the top of my lungs as my fist shatters the mirror.

I realize that I am sitting straight up in my bed and I am crying hysterically. I know that I actually screamed during my dream because I awaken to it still reverberating off the walls of my room.

I am drenched in sweat and for almost a minute I have to try and convince myself that all of that really didn't happen.

I can't stop crying.

The dream was so real that I can still taste the Jack Daniels on my lips.

Chapter 49

My second full day outside of rehab.

I am so out of sorts. My cravings are about ten times worse as they were while I was in. I actually wake up at 5:30 AM. I go for a walk and I end up at the Alano House and they have a sunrise meeting called the Dawn Patrol. It is like a Godsend.

I drink a few cups of AA coffee and I listen. After my first experience with meetings after rehab I think it is best that I just listen to what others with some experience have to say.

What I really like is the friendly faces. There is men and women here that have some serious sober time. I know that they have to be doing something right. One of the last things that my counselor Adam told me was to stick with the winners.

Stick with those that have time in the program.

I promised myself and my family that I would listen to what I learned in rehab. I know how easy it would be for me to go right back into my old life.

The meeting is just what I needed. I know now that at least there is an early morning meeting that I can hit when I can't sleep. I walk down the back stairs to the parking lot and I see the pay phone on the wall. I don't even hesitate to dial the number.

It is 7:30 AM and everyone should be going to breakfast.

The payphone rings for a while. It usually takes some time for someone to pick it up.

Serenity Lane, who you looking for?

It is Jerrod. Perfect.

Hey Jerrod it's Steve. What's up man?

Dude we miss you. Things are a little quieter around here without you. How is your first couple days out?

I just got out of a meeting and its like 7 AM if that tells you anything.

I hear him laugh and it makes me smile. I actually would love to be back there right now going to breakfast with Cozmo and the boys but I am out now and I vow never to go back as a patient. Ever.

So you missed us already and had to call, huh.

Sorta like that. Is Lacey around?

After taking a serious amount of crap he tells me he will go look. Five minutes pass and I hear the phone booth door open again and my heart beats a little faster.

Couldn't find her but I will make sure I tell her you called.

Don't mess with me J. Make sure you tell her to call me and make sure to tell everyone hey for me. I miss you guys.

We miss you too man. I will call you soon if that cool.

Fine by me. Much love man. Peace.

The click of the phone brings me back to Portland and back to the day ahead. I really would have liked to have talked to Lacey but it is rare that you actually connect on incoming rehab calls.

I am sure that Jerrod put the message on the chalkboard. I can only imagine how happy Aaron is to see it.

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At 11 I have my first personal training session. I am as ready as I will ever be to start this. I get to the gym early because I have to get my nutrition schedule. I am getting put on a strict 2000 calorie diet. I have four meals a day and several options each day to choose from. I have never been one to have any sort of eating restrictions. Smoke enough pot and you will eat anything. I have a Ben and Jerry's ice cream store right across the street from my house. It is 43 steps from my front door to theirs. I only know this because you do stupid things when you are high. It is like pot smokers nirvana to have a Ben and Jerry's so close. They know me almost as well as the liquor store lady.

I have been wondering if she thinks I am dead. This is the longest time she has been without me. The brief thought of visiting her is interrupted by a little 5 foot tall girl in spandex.

Hi Steve!

Wow is she perky.

I am Amy and I am going to be your personal trainer!

Wow is she perky.

I can't believe that this tiny little girl is going to be any challenge for me at all.

An hour later I feel like I have never been more wrong in my life.

The amount of hell that can be packed into such a small body amazes me. She worked me like a minimum wage job, brutal and unsatisfying. I have discovered that there are muscles I didn't even know about. Every one of them is mad at me and asking why I couldn't have just left them sleeping.

My little aerobics instructor from hell asks me to join her for her spinning class tomorrow. I have no clue at all what a spinning class is so I say yes.

Seriously, how hard can it be.

As I leave the gym I really wish that I had driven my car the 11 blocks from my house because the way my butt is fighting my legs is driving me crazy.

I make the slow walk home. I take a shower and once again am faced with nothing but time. I can tell this is going to be my biggest enemy. Boredom. I know that I am going to have to keep busy. Meetings. I need meetings.

I have a little schedule of every meeting in the Portland area and I sit down and figure out where they all are.

6:30 AM everyday at The Alano club. They also have a surrender at noon meeting and the 5:30 New Alternatives group where I met my sponsor. At 11 PM they have the Night Owls meeting. There are four meetings at least everyday that I can get to with in walking distance of my house.

I thank God right then and there.

It is the in between times that are going to be tough.

I take a trip to the grocery store to purchase all of my new diet foods. I haven't had a shopping cart full of the four food groups since I was actually sitting in the front of it staring at my Mom pushing the dang cart.

Out with the bad and in with the good.

I get home and make a fabulous lunch and I sit out on my front porch and eat. I smoke a couple cigarettes and decide it has been way too long since I had a talk with my best friend.

She feels good in my hands.

I haven't held her in over a month.

The sound of my guitar soothes my soul. I sit on my front porch and I play for three hours straight. My fingers couldn't be happier.

I finally get to hear what "Tired of Getting High" sounds like on a real guitar. It changes a bit more than I expected but it sure sounds a heck of a lot better than it did playing it on the wooden bar in rehab.

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I meet my new sponsor Jeff at the 5:30. He asks me how my day has been and I tell him all about my new aerobics instructor from hell. I tell him that I am doing something called spinning tomorrow.

He just smiles at me and says, good luck with that.

We sit through the meeting and I have to say that I really feel at home with these people. I hear stories that I can relate to and I know what people are talking about.

After the meeting Jeff asks me if I am ready to start working the program. I tell him that I am very ready and that I will do whatever it takes.

Step 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable.

What I want you to do, Steve, is go home and write down 10 ways how you are powerless over alcohol and 10 ways your life has become unmanageable.

I can do that.

Have you eaten yet?

I can always eat.

Let go get some food and talk some more.

Walking down the street to 23rd I am just amazed at how willing this guy is to help me. This is really only the second time we have met and we are going to get dinner. It is so funny how we connect. I really do feel like I have known him for a while.

We go to Santa Fe's and get big ole burrittos.

We talk about my story. Where I came from and how I drank and drugged. He told me all about his. So many similarities that it is spooky.

We talk about music.

I tell him how bad I feel about being in a Christian band and being the way that I am.

You didn't tell me your band was a Christian band?

Yeah.

I think that is awesome. My little brother is a guitarist in a Christian hardcore band.

Are you a Christian Jeff?

I sure am.

I sit and eat and all the while I am thinking that God is just putting everything into place. I can think of only one word right now.

Surrender.

Chapter 48

My first night home and I really didn't sleep. It actually feels foreign to be home. I wake up and know that there is no bacon waiting for me. No glorious mound of bacon next to heaping trays of hashbrowns and eggs.

I just might starve.

I take a long shower and try and put together my day in my head. I don't have one thing planned and right now that is a bad thing. I know that I am dangerous when I don't have something to do. My anxiety level is through the roof. I just know I have to get out of the house.

What I really miss is my mornings at the YMCA.

I decide to take a walk instead. I live in Northwest Portland which is always hopping with a tireless stream of Urban Hipsters and shopaholics. I light up my morning smoke and head down 23rd.

It is a crisp morning. I love mornings like this in the Northwest, especially when I am waking up to them and not going to sleep to them.

I say "Good morning" to every single person I pass. I don't do the walk with the head down thing. I look people in the eye and say good morning and the great thing about the Northwest is most people say it back and mean it.

As I walked I tried to think of what my days were going to be like.

I know one thing. I am not going back to work for at least a month. I just can't go back there right now. I need to get better. I really need to go in and talk to everyone and let them know that I am not the same guy anymore.

At least I think I'm not the same guy.

Maybe that's what I will do later today. I know that I have a paycheck at work so that always makes a trip worthwhile. I know that I don't need the money right now because I am sitting on a big chunk of change from my Saturday night before rehab gig.

I would just really like to see Sam, my Christian brother from work, and tell him thanks for being there for me when I needed him. I know that he and his wife prayed for me while I was in rehab and I know that it helped.

I walked. I smoked. I saw the most glorious vision in front of me, calling me. I realized I was going to be entering into an amazing love affair with this new beauty in my life.

Starbucks.

Real coffee. Legal juice.

I felt no shame as I entered into this haven from the cold. The smell of Sumatra, Sulawesi, Guatemala Antiqua and the "hissss" of frothing milk makes me close my eyes briefly as I slowly take the air into my nostrils.

What can I get for you?

Her voice pulls me from my trance.

Without hesitation I proudly announce my hearts desire.

Quad Venti Mocha.

Would you like whipped cream?

Did she just ask if I wanted whipped cream? Hell yes I want whipped cream! Does a fat dog fart?

Yes please.

I walk out once again into my new life aided by a warm and heavily caffeinated beverage. I light yet another cigarette and decide I need to take care of the other thing that is missing.

I walk down into the Pearl District because I know that there is a 24 hour Fitness there. By the time I get there I have finished my coffee and two cigarettes. I have never been a gym rat so I feel a little out of my element in here. I decide that I need to get a membership. I sit down and talk with a girl who is a little more muscular than me about the different programs they have. I decide to actually put a good amount of my Saturday night funds to work. I get a three year membership and also get myself a personal trainer and a nutritionist.

I laugh at the fact I now am a guy with a personal trainer and nutritionist.

We aren't in Kansas anymore Toto.

I leave with a vast array of supplements and vitamins. I mean, if I am going to do this I should go all out. I have never been one to go halfway.

I walk home and unload my vast array of pills, healthy pills for once and I get in my car and take a sober drive to work. Pulling into the parking lot makes me nervous. I don't really know what it is going to be like to see all these people right now. I walk to the front door and decide that I will stand out front and smoke a little first. I see a couple folks that know me and they ask me how I am. I tell them I am great, never been better.

You look good.

I feel good.

I finish my smoke and head into the building. I turn left once again to see my boss, this time without the tears. He is sitting behind his desk and he gets a big smile when he sees me.

Hey Dude! Wow, good to see you!

We talk for a while and I ask him if it is ok if I take a month off work. He tells me to take as much time as I need. I try and tell him Thank you without crying and I just can't. He just tells me how proud he is that I took these steps.

I leave his office and walk to the other side of the building. I can feel so many people looking at me. I didn't leave without telling all of my co-workers what was happening. The last thing I wanted was rumors when I was gone. I told them all straight up, face to face.

My reception was a warm one.

Lots of hugs and lots of "you look good". I had lost a ton of weight and I can only imagine that I had some life back in my eyes.

I loved seeing my two best friends at work, Sam and Scott. Sam just smiled ear to ear. A warm smile that really made me happy. He gave me a hug and said it was great to see me. He said that he and his wife had been praying for me.

I told him that I knew.

It worked.

We all talked for a while and I let them all know I would be back after a month or so. Everyone offered any help they could give.

I haven't sat at my desk for a while. I know that my top drawer has several prescription bottles in it. I open the drawer and see the empty bottles. I grab them all and throw them in the trash.

I have enough reminders already.