Eleven Years

Yesterday was my 11th sobriety anniversary. In fact, it was exactly Sunday, March 8, 1998 that (so far) I had my last drink of alcohol.

In fact, that last drink was AFTER I'd gotten out of jail that morning. Yes. Jail. On a drunk-driving charge from Saturday night. I awoke that Sunday morning in a cell, my clothes piled neatly on the floor ourside of my cell... safely out of reach (lest I do something stupid, like fashion a noose from my trousers). It took most of the last $220 I had in my wallet to get out of jail that morning. I still had part of a 1.75 liter bottle of rotgut vodka back in my small room at my brother's house, where I'd spent the previous 3 months sleeping on a paper-thin mattress on the attic floor. I polished it off before I passed out for the last time. I hated myself and wished I were dead.

Two days later I attended my first 12-Step meeting, at 7:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning, March 10, 1998.

After that there were court dates, a loss of license for 6 months, fines, insurance surcharges, court-mandated attendance at something called IDRC (Intoxicated Driver Resource Center) and, finally, court-ordered attendance at 12-Step meetings for the next year.

By the time the court got around to that, though, I'd already been attending meetings for 3 months. In fact, I'd gotten my 90-Day pin the day before my first court appearance.

11 years later... during which there've been no police, no courts, no insurance surcharges and, most importantly of all, no court-mandated attendance at 12-Step meetings (I run to them of my own volition these days).

I've come to realize a lot of things in those 11 years. I've come to realize that there is a God and that I'm not him (or her). I've also come to believe that there is a plan, which is not my plan and that God, frankly, doesn't give a rat's ass about my opinions regarding that plan, but that my job is to show up for that plan and to do my best to implement that plan. It makes life so much easier when we stop trying to be God... and get rid of that massive chip on our shoulders because we are not God.

I have loving friends and family. For a long time I didn't. I like being around people today. For a long time I didn't.

I go to a Step meeting on Sunday mornings in the sleepy little town of Plainsboro, NJ (home of the non-existent Princeton-Plainsboro Hospital where House practices being a medical jerk). My sponsor goes to the meeting with me. It allows us to have some valuable "face-time" every week. He gave me my 11 year piece at the meeting yesterday.

I love my sponsor. He's my best friend. He puts up with a lot of crap and neediness from me. He thinks I'm a good friend, too. He's told me so. We're good for each other. He and his wife have taken good care of me over the years. They've been there for me with all my medical crap over the years. I would take bullets for them.

So today I start my 12th year of sobriety. I started it the same way I started my sobriety on a dismal, friendless and hopeless Sunday morning in 1998.

One Day at a Time.

10 Years and 2 Days

Saturday night was great.

I belong to a gay 12-Step group in Pennsylvania which was celebrating it's 13th Anniversary Saturday night, the same time I was celebrating my 10th anniversary of sobriety. The group's chairman had invited me to be one of three guest speakers that evening. I asked my sponsor (and his wife) if they'd come to this "eatin' meetin'" and present me with my 10-year medallion there. He said yes. By the way, we call them eatin' meetins' because group anniversaries are traditionally started with a big, sit-down buffet dinner. And when gay people are involved, the food is, of course, FABULOUS!

To be honest, though, I'd been dreading the day for weeks. I was nervous that I'd make a fool of myself in front of 50 or 60 people. (it turned out to be more like 80.)

I needn't have worried. The group chairman made a big fuss over me by announcing from the podium that we had a "special" anniversary that night and then he called me and my sponsor up on the dais. My sponsor made a lovely speech about how I came along just at the right time in HIS recovery, and about how much he liked working with me and being my friend over the last 8 years. He gave me the medallion and a big hug and we went back to our seats.

Seconds later I was called back to the podium, as the first speaker of the evening. I don't remember what I said (the best shares are totally unrehearsed -- or "unpremeditated" as I call them), but whatever it was, it was mostly about love and gratitude with very little emphasis on the old, drinking parts of the story, except for enough to "qualify" as an alcoholic. Although I doubt that anyone would doubt that. Most of my friends have far too much first-hand experience with me to the contrary.

But it was the first time in my memory that I told my story pretty much leaving out all the gory details of my victimhood. Somewhere along the way in sobriety I realized that people had long ago stopped hurting me and that I was only hurting myself. Over and over again. By making bad choices and by opting, continually, for pain over joy.

Anyway, it was a quick speech, probably less than the 15 minutes I was supposed to speak. But I hate speakers who drone on, long after they've run out of things to say (okay, I'll stop typing now).

A number of people came up to me after the meeting to thank me for what I'd said. I was floating around on cloud nine.

But what mattered most Saturday night was that I was surrounded by people who mean the world to me, whether they were there in body, or there in spirit.

You see, I've come to realize that I am loved. And that I am capable of giving a lot of love in return.

March 8, 1998

I won't be posting anything over the weekend, so I might as well get this over with now.

Tomorrow is my 10th anniversary of sobriety. 10 years since my last drunk. 10 years of trying to learn to be a sober adult (not as easy a task as it might sound).

10 years of going to meetings, working the steps, working with others, often getting frustrated, occasionally feeling grateful and always, ALWAYS, learning patience, tolerance and acceptance. 10 years of FINALLY letting go of past slights and hurts, of learning forgiveness for others and forgiveness of myself. 10 years of learning compassion for others and compassion for me. 10 years of learning that there is some bad in the best of us and some good in the worst.

10 years of becoming a better person than I was during the first 49 years of my life.

10 years since I woke up in jail; homeless, penniless, careerless, loveless and drunk.

10 years that have been the most wonderful ten years of my life.

I thank God and the granddaddy of all 12-Step Programs for this life I've been given.

Dear God, please don't let me screw this thing up. And, if it be your will, please grant me another 10 years of sober, happy, joyous and free living. I promise to do everything I can to make it worth your while.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

!!!Baby's First Birthday!!!

Today is the first anniversary of JoyZeeBoy - The Blog.

I haven't been a daily poster and for that I am truly sorry. If there's one thing I've learned in sobriety, it takes constant, daily attendance at 12-Step meetings in order to get and to stay sober.

And it takes constant and daily posting to learn what a crappy writer I really am. Not to mention pompous, pedantic, petulant, pedestrian and, at times, downright pubescent.

But I procrastinate.

Sometimes I feel like I'm flying when I write. The words come out so fast I can't keep up. This especially happens when I'm writing about where I was in my drunkeness compared to where I am now or, really, anything to do with sobriety. Sometimes the words have to be dragged out, especially when I'm really pissed about something (usually a politician).

Sometimes I hit the "Publish" button and when I check it out on-line everything is perfect. Other times I have to edit and re-edit the piece until it finally makes some bit of sense.

And sometimes it's just hard to think of anything to write about. That's when I feel really "less than." I feel like I should always have something to say, something to contribute. But when I find myself feeling that way I try to remember that I don't share at every 12-Step meeting, either. Sometimes it's enough for people to just know that I'm there.... rather than where I used to be, 10 years ago.

I don't have a huge readership. I know a handful of my regulars (Bev, Alan, Steve & Luke) but other regulars I don't know at all. I just know that they're from Maine, Missouri, Lancaster (PA) and Los Angeles. But I appreciate every one of you and hope that sometimes I say something that makes it worth your time taking a look.

I got the impetus to start writing this because of Bev. Sometime around the turn of the century I hit bottom and she started her daily blog, "Funny The World" which, if you haven't read it, you should.

I started reading her daily postings about 4 years ago, then I started to read Steve's blog, "Living in the Bonus Round", and things just took off from there.

Now I'm an internet junkie (being a good alcoholic I do a lot of "transferrance" with my addiction(s)).

But I don't regret a single word I've posted here all year.

Until, of course, they come to haul me off to Gitmo because I think President Bush is an incompetent jerk.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, EVERYONE!

Now where's the friggin' cake?