May 25, 2014. Insignificant for most, but it is now a day that I will never forget (Facebook helps makes sure of this). I was with some of my best friends at Love & War in Texas, one of the best Texas Country bars enjoying Eleven Hundred Springs, one of my top 10 favorite bands. Everything was perfectly in place for a really good time.
In my mind, the day could not have been planned better. The band was high energy and tons of fun. I knew because I had spent many wild nights two stepping with strangers at their shows. The next day was Memorial Day so we had the entire day off to recover. We took public transportation. In true alcoholic fashion, I had everything worked out perfectly for an all-out rager. Unfortunately, this carefully curated drinking event turned out to be a very sad and lonely party of one.
Different wavelengths
I discovered early in the day that my normie friends were on a completely different wavelength. They saw no reason to take DART, especially since it was about a mile walk from the train station to the bar. For people who drank like me, this was nothing. We’d walk mile in the dark, the rain, the sleet or even the snow to decrease the chance of getting a DWI. My friends finally agreed because they had never been on DART and thought it would be an adventure. Great. I’ll take it. Check that party barrier off the list.
Next, I realized the hard way that “Sunday Funday” is not a thing for most people. Concerts that start at 4p are very different than concerts that start at 9p. All too soon, it became painfully obvious that the people at the bar were just there to hear a few songs, have a few beers, grab some dinner and then go home. What? How do people this? How can they waste a national night out by going home early and sober?
Laser focused on Miller Lite
This was also the day I learned that “drinking” only meant one thing to me. This is not something I’d ever considered but for many, drinking can actually mean having a few drinks or even one drink. When the waitress finally came over (we only waited like 5 minutes but this is like an eternity when you are laser focused on Miller Lite), I automatically ordered a bucket of beer. My friends tried to stop me saying they were only going to have 1 or 2. I was sure they didn’t mean it and would feel differently when the fun band started, so I stayed the course. Much to their confusion, the bucket of beer still came. Much to my confusion, they really did only have 2 each.
Everything and everyone or just me?
Once I accepted that my friends were not joining in my brand of fun, I was off to find other playmates. I’m not sure how many men I asked to dance with me but they all said no. Probably because no one was dancing and most of them were sitting with their FAMILIES having dinner. The rest of them were probably scared and/or very annoyed.
Not willing to give up, I turned to the band. Tried and true. Desperately needing to feel normal about my drinking, I decided to eliminate all possibilities of them saying no with a bribe. I ordered a bucket of beer for them and couldn’t wait to slam a few back with my people. Surely, this would work. Who says no to free beer? The waitress delivered it and they declined. They said something like thanks but not today, something about it being early, something else about something else. I stopped being able to hear them. Then, they offered the beer to the audience and only 3 people came to get one. Only 3 people! What in the world was going on? Nothing about this was making sense. Everything was just wrong.
A moment of clarity
Despite drinking most of a bucket of beer, I somehow had the most important moment of clarity of my life so far at that bar. It was like I could see myself and the entire big picture. From behind the stage, where I thought I belonged (I didn’t), I looked out into the crowd. My two friends were laughing and talking. The band was joyfully doing what they loved. Decent people were sitting with their families, enjoying a great Sunday afternoon.
At that very moment I felt defeated. An overwhelming sense of sadness came over me. I tried to push it off. My usual denial patterns surfaced. I tried to be mad and even disgusted that no one was fun like me. That was always easier than admitting that my drinking was a problem. But this time, I couldn’t shake it. I spent my entire day planning my drinking, worrying about my drinking, looking for someone- really anyone to drink with me. I was finally starting to see that it was me who was wrong. What I know now, is that this was the first of many moments of surrender to follow.
The light came on
It was as if God constructed the perfect light bulb moment for me. In my heart of hearts, I knew that if I could not have fun on this perfectly planned drinking day, then there was just no more fun for me to be had with drinking. For me, it felt like the gig was finally and abruptly just up. After 30 years, I finally felt ready to put down the bottle. This was a complete and jarring shift in perspective. I can’t fully explain it but I will be eternally grateful for it.
Believe me, I have my fair share of drunk war stories. Humiliating incidents, words and actions I can’t take back, dangerous situations I somehow survived, loss of a great love, legal issues that are now part of my permanent record- the list goes on. None of these things were enough to make me stop drinking. It absolutely does not make sense, but it is true. It really does take what it takes. I’ve had some of my most challenging days in sobriety, death of friends and family, unemployment, legal consequences. I made it through and never wanted to drink- not even once. But for the grace of God, and in doing the work, the obsession to drink was removed.
I finally wanted something more
Could what I was missing out on being drunk be way better than what I was getting from drinking? Even though I was scared and had no idea what it would look like for me, I finally considered that I might want something different. Maybe I wanted something more for myself. This realization still holds true and has been one of the biggest blessings of my life.
Life in sobriety has been a long and beautiful journey. I’ve learned that happiness does not come from the perfect party with the perfect friends and the best band. It comes from my connection with God, carrying the message and helping others. However, going to see live bands (especially Eleven Hundred Springs) is still one of my favorite things to do. Now, I just enjoy the music and my friends while I’m there. I am fully present. This and sobriety make my career, my relationships, my demeanor and my entire life- exponentially better. I know now that if I’m sober and spiritually connected to God that I will be at peace no matter what happens. I’m happy, joyous and free- clean and serene. This is something I never want to give up.
A sober birthday song to celebrate 7
So in celebration of 7 …… Happy Sober 7th to me! Happy Sober 7th to Me! Happy Sober 7th to Me! And a giant zero-proof cheers to many more! And many more after that. God willing.
“We’re From Texas” is just one of the name reasons this band is my top 10! For more amazing music, check out Play It Again.
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