Genesis
In the beginning, I was a glutton for alcohol, despite rarely getting my hands on it. I was about 13.
Weddings were prime opportunities because:
a) it was considered amusing to let kids have a sip or two, and
b) if you were as clever as me, you could easily snag three or four drinks by asking different aunties, uncles, and older cousins.
Mike Mather aged 3 by Mike Mather
Dad's Bag
Then there was Dad's stash, from which you could secretly pinch one a day—or two when he was already drunk—before he'd notice anything missing.
I got my first lover pregnant and we, being good Catholic kids, married at seventeen. Four days before the wedding, I got my driver's license, so I could borrow Dad's car from the reception and drive my new wife to our Wedding Night Motel (drunk, of course).
My Dad never seemed to be an alcoholic because he told me that only men in the parks were alcoholics—he was just a drunk. Drunks, he claimed, don't drink in the morning or alone. So he worked night shift and had plenty of booze-drinking friends. For him, one drink was too many and a hundred wasn't enough!
It didn't even seem odd when my big sister gave him a mug that said, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…”.
I Was Stupid
The one thing I did know about him, though, was that he thought I was stupid.
Now, I know this wasn't true—it never was—but I was a kid. When I'd do something that upset him, and he'd say, “Michael, are you stupid or something?” I just figured that's what he thought.
Mum was my protector and I was hers.
The envy that little sentence caused was worthy of another chapter. My siblings nicknamed me “The Brat”.
Mum and I would visit Grandfather or Nana on weekends, watching Audie Murphy and Deborah Kerr movies on Sundays. We'd study the form guide together on Saturdays and go to the races. Dad was at the club most weekends, or sleeping off the night shift from the week gone by.
Ten year chip by Mike Mather
I Had To Work At It
After I got married and dropped out of university, sales seemed the way to go for me—an introverted squash player and stamp collector.
This was my big break into serious drinking.
In my first full-time job (I'd worked in hospitality and cleaning part-time during university), I was made a Field Manager and given a team of canvassers after just 7 weeks. This allowed me to spend half the day in a pub with other 'managers' and drink after work on Fridays until I'd drive home drunk to my new, beautiful wife and son.
Yada, yada, yada…
Business failures piled up, and I never made the connection between my love of alcohol and my uncanny knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, with too little money and too many excuses.
In 1997, I changed towns and started drinking full-time. My second wife followed me with our four kids in tow, and I spent nearly a decade drinking myself into an early grave. I failed.
When I came kicking and screaming into AA in late 2005, I got a brief glimpse of the problem and how 'I' could fix it. It took two and a half years and five attempts to realise I couldn't do it alone. Finally, with help from friends, I began my sober journey.
This is the story that led me to a happy, sober, and frickin' awesome life.
Image by Steve Buissinne from Pixabay
Now, ten years after my last drink, I write about addiction. I do it because I can, thanks to this marvellous internet thing.
I do it because I want to help others who share similar pain and seek my solution.
And I do it…
because I have a responsibility to give back to the world I live in—it's the rent I pay for the blessings I enjoy every day.
This story was prompted by Anthony Metivier. I completed an online course of his and Jonathan Levi, who told me that to help others, I need to write my story of pain and relief. If I can recover from a seemingly endless cycle of pain and failed recovery, others might benefit from hearing about it and learning from it.
Maybe someone JUST LIKE ME can benefit from my struggle.
Perhaps there are a few of you out there—you can recover, too.
You will recover if you do what I have done.