Читать книгу Young & Sober - Группа авторов - Страница 14

March 1997

“I spilled more than you ever drank,” said a man with three years of sobriety and three million grey hairs. My alcoholic mind used that phrase to excuse my next drunk. I was fourteen years old and thought I was too young to be an alcoholic. I’m sixteen years old now and know alcoholism has no minimum age requirement. I realize that many fellow AA members have lost homes, marriages, and children to alcohol before I acquired any of those things. But I lost enough.

I drank for the first time when I was ten years old. I looked and acted sixteen at the time. I was a lot taller and more mature than the other kids. When I was drunk I could be any age I wanted. By the time I was eleven I’d do anything for any guy who would buy me a bottle. I was hanging out with twenty-year-old hookers by the time I was twelve. That was when I was put into a treatment center. I spent thirty days there learning the right answers and looking forward intently to my next drunk.

During the next year I never went anywhere without a mug full of whiskey and cola. Somehow I wasn’t picked up for prostitution or driving under the influence without a driver’s license. I was usually the designated driver because I was the only one who wasn’t passed out by the time everyone had to go home.

Again, I was put into a treatment center where I spent sixty days. There I was introduced to Alcoholics Anonymous. No way was I going to spend all my time with those old fogies. They were all over twenty-five! After my sixty days of patience, I once again went out and got plowed.

During the next six months I remember three days. Those three days were filled with suicidal thoughts that I was too scared to fulfill because I thought I’d go to hell for all the people I’d hurt. Once again I was placed in a treatment center. Once again I got drunk. I realized I might have a problem when I drank all of my friend’s beer and was throwing up on his shoes.

Thanks to my many trips through treatment I decided once again to try Alcoholics Anonymous. I didn’t have anything to lose. I did what people told me to do: went to ninety meetings in ninety days, got a sponsor, started to work the Steps, and read the Big Book. My sponsor said this was “willingness,” but I preferred to call it “going to any lengths.” I now have almost a year in Alcoholics Anonymous. I love to spend time with the people in the Fellowship whom I used to think were “old fogies.” Every day I thank my Higher Power for them and their acceptance of me.

And occasionally, when I meet someone who says they spilled more than I ever drank, I politely reply, “Perhaps if you hadn’t spilled so much, you would have gotten here sooner.”

SUNNY B.

BOUNTIFUL, UTAH