Keeping Sobriety First – Grapevine Article January 2015 By Anonymous

In a rehab one night, a desperate young man almost gives up—until he hears a knock on the door.

I remember sitting in a rehab in Austin, Texas. I had come in there broken and beaten; the bottle had done a good number on me this time. I had lost my job, my family, my place and a lot of close friends. I was disorientated and lost, and I was not sure what I was going do with my life. I couldn’t seem to get over the self-pity. All I saw was an endless cycle of alcoholism. I just wanted to die. “Please Lord, kill me,” I remember praying. “Please end my suffering.” I was 22 and had never led a normal life. Just foster homes and poverty. I had lost both of my parents from alcoholism by the time I was 17.

So there I was, sitting on the end of my bed in this rehab. I grabbed my bed sheet, tied it up into a noose and slipped it over my head. I remember getting up and walking over and trying to hang myself in the closet. My vision started to go and I started to choke, so I stood up. I couldn’t do it. I was so full of self-pity. I thought, I can’t even kill myself! I sat back down and cried and prayed.

Suddenly I remembered this man in an AA meeting telling me that sobriety was the most important thing in his life. He said that anything else you love or care about you will lose as a result of your drinking. That was hard to accept at 22, but somehow I knew it to be true. I had built my life up many times just to tear it back down with my drinking.

Still, I got up and pulled out a pen and paper and started to write a suicide note. Then I crumbled it up and threw it in the corner. I placed the noose under the bed, just in case I changed my mind. I then grabbed a fresh piece of paper and wrote down 10 things I loved most in my life. As I wrote, I cried even more, realizing I had already lost most of those things. After I finished my list, I wrote at the bottom: “If sobriety isn’t first, I won’t have any of these.” I sat there on my bed thinking about all the things I’d done wrong in my life. I also grieved over the idea that I would never be able to touch another drop of alcohol in my lifetime. It felt like the death of a dear friend. Alcohol had always given me comfort when I was lost and broken.

Suddenly, there was a knock on my door, so I quickly wiped my eyes. A guy named Emelio walked in and sat right beside me on my bed. “How are you doing, buddy?” he asked. He had known me for a couple of days, and he seemed like he genuinely cared. “You’ve been isolating in your room. Why don’t you come out and socialize?” I looked at the ground and realized the noose was sticking out, so I pushed it back with my foot. He looked at it, and then looked into my eyes. He just smiled with compassion.

He saw the piece of paper on my desk. “What’s this?” he asked. “It’s a list of the 10 things I love most in this world,” I said quietly. “If I don’t have sobriety I won’t have any of those things.” He looked at me with gentle eyes. “What about the guy beside you?” he asked. Huh? I thought. I didn’t understand.

“We have to learn a new way of living,” he continued. “When you were drinking all you cared about was yourself. You have to care about the guy beside you. In AA, our sobriety depends on our constant thought of others. This is the beauty of sobriety. We get to learn to journey away from self and help others. Through this, we learn to love ourselves. In fact, right now, you’re helping me by letting me help you.”

I looked at him and smiled. I was surprised by how straightforward he was—and how kind. I picked up my pen and wrote at the top of my list: The guy beside me. He smiled too. “Now come play cards,” he said, “and be a part of this.”

I’ve always remembered this man who came into my room. Even though he barely knew me, he comforted me just like the bottle used to comfort me. He may not know it, or maybe he does, but that man saved my life.