As a Dog Returns to His Vomit...

Mike Runner is my Sunday Guest Contributor, and he brings a perspective to Wings Like Eagles that is unique and challenging. 

I normally cover topics relating to the horror of having someone else bring darkness into the home.  Mike covers the same topics, but from a completely different angle.  He was the one who brought darkness to his family.  Mike is an alcoholic.

It is my hope that the perception of what we think we know about Family Crisis is shaken up a bit.  Because there is far more involved than we think.  Much can be understood by examining the other side, and I deeply appreciate Mike's willingness to help us gain understanding as he shares with us the mind as it is affected by alcoholism.

He isn't just an alcoholic.  He is an intelligent mind, has a bright, hopeful future, and he is my friend.  And this is his story.

Editor's Note.  Sometimes we deviate a bit from the plan.  There was an event in Mike's life that gave him different words from what he thought he would have for us today.  He made a good choice to go with his heart, and write what was on it.

A moderate drinker is at a bar and finds a fly in his drink.  He pushes the drink back to the bartender and orders another.

A heavy drinker is at a bar and finds a fly in his drink.  He picks the fly out of the drink and drinks his drink.

An alcoholic is at a bar and finds a fly in his drink.  He looks at the fly, picks it up by the wings and screams SPIT IT OUT!!!

Humor.  I remember crawling into my first AA meeting with my tail between my legs and having no idea what to expect.  No one walks into AA for the first time because they have been on a winning streak in life.   What I remember most about that first meeting was a lot of laughter.  There would be strange and disturbing stories told by alcoholics often with a great deal of humor in them.  I remember sitting there thinking, this is not very funny.  What the heck is wrong with these people? 

As alcoholics, at least in the advanced stages, many people have not laughed, really laughed, for a long time.  I remember my wife once telling me that I drank and had the fun while she did all the work.  The last months or years of anyone’s drinking career is anything but fun.  Somewhere we alcoholics cross an invisible line.  On the other side of the line was drinking by choice, for relaxation, and sometimes for fun.  After we cross the line, we are no longer drinking by choice.  We are drinking to survive.  It becomes a necessity, and it is sheer torture and complete hopelessness.  There is no humor, joy or piece and an emptiness beyond words. We need alcohol to survive as much as we need air to breath.  People laugh in the AA rooms because they have learned how to laugh again.  To quote Jimmy Buffet, If we didn’t laugh we would all go insane.  As alcoholics, untreated, we are insane.  We are supposed to share our experience, strength, and hope with others.  

I am sharing my experience in these posts because most hopeless alcoholics or alcoholic families believe that there is no one who could possibly understand them.  When they hear our stories, sometimes worse than their own, they know they are no longer alone and that brings hope.  We laugh because we are free of the insanity, fear, and terrible bondage that we were in.

Alcoholism itself is not funny at all.  I have seen many people die from alcoholism.  Sometimes quickly, from alcohol poisoning.  Sometimes slowly, from a long, painful alcoholic death.   I have seen physical violence inflicted upon family members, I have a friend who killed his best friend while driving drunk.  The stories are endless and I will share one now as an example of the insanity.

Last week a friend of mine almost died from alcoholism.  His experience almost exactly mirrors one of mine so I will share my own story. 

I don’t remember why I had started drinking one afternoon but I ended up with a large bottle of Vodka in our downstairs bathroom.  People were yelling and pleading for me to come out.  I told them to leave me alone.  I was sitting against the door so that no one could break it down.  

I don’t remember anything else that happened during an 8 hour time span.  I ended up face down in our upstairs hallway.  After some time had passed, my wife checked on me and I was unresponsive and my eyes were rolled back.  She called 911.  

I don’t remember the paramedics or the emergency room.  They pumped my stomach and filled me with activated charcoal.  My blood alcohol level was .49, a little over 6 times the legal limit.  Fortunately my alcohol tolerance was extremely high, as many people die from alcohol poisoning around the .4 range.  Had I not been taken to the ER, I could well have died.  

I was actually put on a 51/50 which is a 72 hour hold when they think someone may be suicidal or homicidal.  After a day in the mental hospital, the psychologist said I could go as I was not suicidal; I just almost unintentionally drank myself to death.  

Here is the insane part of alcoholism.  In my mind, that was it.  I almost died!  I swore off alcohol forever and I absolutely meant it.  Four days later, I was drinking again.  In my friend's case, he was drinking again within 3 days after also swearing booze off forever.   Normal people can’t understand the insanity, the mental obsession or the allergy which I will explain in more detail later.  The craziest part of the story is not what happened to both of us, but that we would both start drinking again so quickly.

In recovery, we laugh and have joy because we don’t have to live like that anymore.  The miracle of breaking through that bondage is indescribable.  We are grateful.  I share my stories because I want people out there to know that I understand, no matter how hopeless they think they are.  I share my story because there is the possibility of peace, hope, joy and laughter for you or yours, in the future that I never thought I would know.  I don’t want anyone to give up before the miracle happens.

Ending prayer:

Lord, in the past several hours I have not hurt myself or anyone else.  I have not drank.  I have peacefully coexisted with life.  For that I am grateful.  But I’m about to get out of bed now and I’m really going to need your help.