Please re-read day 127 in the Built to Lead book, please?
I am not proud of this photo. At all. I did not want to write this today. BUT...it is just too important to me to let it slip by...BUT it is painful all the same. So here goes...
Jim was drinking more heavily, including just prior to his mandatory appointments in the Army Substance Abuse Program known as ASAP. He knew he needed to cut back or stop. "Just not yet," he would say. "I know this may sound bad," he told me. "But right now, alcohol is like my friend." Outwardly, he voiced confidence that he would recover, but he admitted to those closest to him that he might not make it. He tried to find a psychologist in the Army and met with two or three but encountered no one he felt he could completely trust. Often he told me he wished he had died fighting in Afghanistan. "Not a cheap death, something hard," he said. "Then I could have proven to everyone, in that one action, that I am who I say I am." He spoke of suicide, and told me many times that were it not for me, he would already have killed himself. For my part, the urgent responsibility I felt to recount Jim's story grew as his grip on life became increasingly tenuous. I wanted to relate what happened to Jim in a way that would help heal him and other similarly haunted men, by letting the broader society know what they had gone through, so their sacrifices would never be forgotten. To be able to do that I had to listen without judging him and be willing to experience some of the terror, grief, and rage that he had.
Tyson, Ann Scott. American Spartan (p. 350).
It is truly hard for me to describe to anyone "where I was at" during the height of my drinking. I just wanted the pain to go away. I was willing to do anything to make it go away. I was unaware of Day One in the Built to Lead book (Thank you, Brother Chet). I was, in fact, pushing my recovery further and further away and making it harder and harder to recover. Deep down, I knew that. DID. NOT. MATTER. I was in so much pain that I would do anything to make it go away. ANYTHING.
Including drinking myself to death, which I almost did.
I found myself in this dark place despite the fact that I had the most understanding and encouraging circle of people around me that a man can have. Everything and everyone in my life was in-place and ready to help me.
DID. NOT. MATTER.
After 13 years...13 years...I got it under control. BUT much damage had already been done. To my body. To my head. To my heart. To those closest to me.
So, I know about this addiction deal. AND - it is a deal with the Devil.
Here is two important take-aways from this ramble:
First, admit to yourself that you have a problem and get some help. From anywhere. Make a plan. Make a plea. Get down on your knees and ask...
Second, don't beat yourself to death. Don't kill yourself with grief, sorrow and depression. You are injured, yes. You are broken, yes. You are hurting, yes...BUT...YOU ARE LOVED, ANYWAY. Say that out loud, please!
YOU ARE LOVED. YOU ARE CHOSEN. YOU ARE IMPORTANT. YOU ARE NOT YOUR DRINKING PROBLEM. YOU ARE SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT.
A vast majority of the people that I love with all of my heart have, in one way or another, dealt with an addiction.
YOU CAN OVERCOME.
Remember, one never knows the extent or the reasons for the pain that another is feeling.
You can transform. I know this.
Because I did.
Together We Transform - always, always, TOGETHER.
Jim
1COR13:13
Thank you, Dave - for hanging in there. I need you to keep fighting. For me. I need you AND I love you.
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