Stupid and not so funny stories from my drinking years

Episode one

The first time I really recall getting into trouble with alcohol was many years ago. I was on my paper round early in the morning. It was the last paper delivery before Christmas. Coming to the end of my round I arrived at a friends house. As I was about to push the paper through the door, he opened it and asked me if i wanted a Christmas drink. I said yes. He invited me in and gave me a glass of whiskey, which made me gag and almost throw up. It was the first time I tasted whiskey. He asked me if I wanted another. I said that I would deliver the last couple of newspapers first, then come back, which I did.

He once again invited me in and gave me another glass of whiskey, which i drank, and it didn't make me gag, I liked it. So I had another one, then another. Then I was sick, and very quickly found I couldn't stand up. I certainly couldn't ride my bike all the way home. This left my friend with a dilema. He had to go out, and I couldn't go anywhere. He most definitely couldn't leave me in the house, so he half carried me down to the bottom of the garden, and carefully placed me in a wheelbarrow, where I promptly passed out.

When I came to, it was beginning to get dark. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and I woke up still in the wheel barrow feeling as if i had been hit by a truck, and promptly threw up all over the shed floor. I then got up, walked down the garden path, got on my bike and rode home. I had a hell of a job explaining to my mother where i had been all day, and how she didn't smell the booze on me I'll never know.

I was just fifteen years old, and even then, I didn't know when to stop. It was many years before I ever touched whisky again, but the experience didn't stop me drinking other types of alcohol. And it didn't stop me becoming an alcoholic. Eventually I grew to love whiskey.

To be continued

Putting the record straight

Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. (Prov. 16:18).

I watched my favourite pastor, Bayless Conley, on the television this morning, talking about the above passage, and I realized something I that I feel the need to share. I have been clean and sober for more than seven and a half years now, and my life is good. It is filled with the love of my friends and family, a job I love and all that I need to sustain me.

Despite the fact that I have written about the manner of my recovery in my book and on my website, there is reluctance among people to accept my explanation, and even more disappointing is the reluctance on my part to be honest and humble in my spoken explanations. I suppose I still feel fear about being ridiculed and my pride seems to be more important than the truth.

When people have come to me and said, as they have on many occasions: ‘well done John, you’re doing great’, I’ve been too willing to sit back and take the praise, and too filled with pride to put them straight. At first, in the early days of my sobriety, I did try to tell people that my recovery was not my doing, but that the Lord came to me in my hour of need when I asked for His help.

Their replies went along the lines of, ‘Yeah, John, but it was you really, your own hard work and will power that got you sober and keeps you sober, so well done mate’. And I accepted this compliment; I let it go, because it was easier to let it go than to argue the point. I was afraid they would think me bonkers, or would not want to know me because of my new found faith and my beliefs, so I just kept quiet and bathed myself in the praise, to the point where I even started to believe it myself.

This morning I prayed to the Lord to give me the strength and the words to put this situation right, to be able to tell it as it is once and for all, without fear of ridicule in both my written and spoken word. So I tell you all now that I am not responsible for my sobriety, I did not do it. God gave me sobriety; He and He alone gave me back my life in answer to a simple prayer. There is no other explanation, and none is needed, nor should be looked for.

I no longer wish to take credit for something I didn’t do. My will power was not responsible for my recovery; it was almost responsible for my death. My history of relapses and hospitalizations and complete inability to do anything about my drinking should make that quite clear to everybody. I would be long dead by now had it not been for the intervention of God in my life. A God, it must be said, who I had rejected for most of my adult life, in the pursuit of pleasure and my own self gratification, was still there when I called on His name and surrendered myself to Him. He did not reject me when I needed Him.

So, the next time I tell you how long I’ve been sober, please don’t say ‘well done mate, you’re doing great, you should be proud of yourself’; just say, ‘praise the Lord, for Him, nothing is impossible’.