REACHING FOR RECOVERY (Putting Down the Drink) Part 7

I had studied classical piano through my teens. My piano mentor's memorial service had been scheduled at my hometown church three days after having become sober. I really wanted to attend, but I was feeling very insecure about going. I was still going through withdrawal from alcohol and I was very shaky - emotionally and physically.

That Saturday morning, I left home for a twelve-step meeting, not knowing if I had the courage to go to that service. When I turned on the ignition of my car, the radio station was broadcasting the very Mozart piano sonata I had played for my teacher on my last visit to her. That spiritual connection gave me the strength to attend; but, not before I attended yet another AA meeting in my hometown just prior to theservice.

I sat with my mother during the service. At one point in the service, I called out from the congregation to the pastor, asking if it would be possible to say a few words. I was later given that opportunity.

I approached the pulpit and I spoke of my spiritual connection to my teacher when I had heard that Mozart sonata on the radio that morning. I spoke of how it gave me the strength to attend even though I felt like I was a “basket case.” I also mentioned that I was in early recovery in a twelve-step program. That action opened the door to an important new friendship for me with the very man of whom I had been terrified as a child, thinking he was gay.

That man was my piano mentor's intimate friend. He guessed who I was when I had gotten up to speak. He'd known me since I'd been ten. The seeming coincidence was that he'd recently found out I was gay from another kindred spirit. That person was the elderly gay man who happened to be sitting with Mom and me. He hadn't heard anything about me since the time I got married and he hadn't seen me since I was a teen. Aside from both of us having studied under our mentor, we now had two other common bonds. We were both gay and he, too, was a recovering alcoholic.

After the service, he sought me out and he invited me to a reception he was holding in his home. He also introduced me to a lesbian friend of his who happened to have been one of my junior high school teachers. That night, he took us both to the symphony. Then I invited them back to my disheveled home for a gourmet dinner, serving it around two in the morning! My life was still unmanageable, but I was starting to experience some very spiritual connections. God was about to do for me what I could not do for myself.

Author Davis Aujourd'hui

Reaching for Recovery (Putting Down the Drink) Part 5

The story of how I finally accepted my alcohol problem was a spiritual one. I had finally realized I had a problem with alcohol once my partner left me. I stopped drinking cold turkey for a long weekend during which he had come back to visit. What I hadn't realized was that I would need help in order to stay sober.

After my partner left, I went to the refrigerator to get some leftovers to warm up. I had promised myself that I wouldn't drink, but I saw a single Budweiser bottle and I thought to myself that one beer wouldn't hurt. That beer took the edge off. That's when I spotted the leftover bottle of gin which I thought I might as well drink as long as I was quitting booze.

The thing is, I wanted more and I started to feel desperate. I didn't think I had any other alcohol in the house. Then I remembered a bottle of Tequila that someone had had the nerve to give us after a trip to Mexico. I hated Tequila, but I thought it might be tasty mixed with Lemonade; so I proceeded to drink the entire contents.

As I was drinking, I started to become melancholy; and, for some reason, I decided to call my partner's former lover who was then living in Atlanta. He was very patient and kind as I proceeded with a drunken apology for having stolen his lover some eight years ago. He told me that he forgave me and that I didn't need to beat myself up. I couldn't understand what he was talking about, but the tone of his voice and his forgiving attitude was very soothing to me.

Perhaps I was aware that he was in recovery from alcohol abuse, though it didn't enter my conscious mind at that point; however, some time later in the conversation, he asked me if I wanted help. Instead of angrily reacting with an “F---You!” I cried out, “Yes!” as I broke into sobs.

Then, somehow, all the way from Atlanta, this dear man got help to me from a local Alcoholics Anonymous clubhouse. Sometime before midnight, two fellows from AA showed up on my doorstep. They took me, wearing my leftover food on my sweater, to the clubhouse where several other members had stayed long after the last meeting of the day to help this drunk.

I don't remember what they said to me, but I do remember the kindness they demonstrated as they talked with me over coffee. I also realized that they knew the kind of personal hell I'd been going through and they held out the hope I desperately needed. I was given a schedule of AA meetings and I was driven home. The next morning I awoke with a hangover and called into work requesting a sick day. Then I went back to that same clubhouse at 7AM for my first AA meeting.

God was with me through that day - April 6, 1988. I ran into an old friend who came home with me and showed me the affection I desperately needed at that point. I stopped by my parents' home for a visit. They had been very concerned since I'd called them the previous night, in my drunken state, to tell them I was being taken to Alcoholics Anonymous. I went from their home to a session with my psychotherapist. Then I followed that up with my first gay AA meeting. There was so much love there among those courageous people who held out more hope for me. I realized I was finally home.

Author Davis Aujourd'hui