We have a problem with substance abuse and addiction. It’s obvious what it is and we can either talk and complain about it or we can find a solution. If we change nothing, well, nothing changes. It’s that simple.
I believe I was born with the disease of addiction. It went into action the very first time I drank, the first time I smoked cigarettes or pot or snorted coke, period. I knew I could feel good about myself and deal with anything. Boy, was I in for a long, knock-down, drag-out fight with this disease.
My first experience that I can recall was in 1968 when I was 8 years old. I drank one beer after sneaking out of the house with my older brother and – BOOM! – that really felt good. That fast!
This continued all through high school. In junior high, I was arrested for breaking into stores to steal beer, wine, and cigarettes. I was sent to the Boys’ Training Center in South Portland, now called Long Creek Youth Development Center. My addiction disease was really starting to progress.
While I was at Long Creek, I was sent to AA meetings at the Serenity House in Portland. All the “old people” shared their tales and I thought, “This is bull … no way could every one of them have lost their wife, house, job, car, etc., etc. This has to be staged for us.”
That was 1975, and I was 14 going on 15. For the next twenty-odd years, I found myself in the grips of this disease and unable to stop. I was a commercial fisherman and I literally ran and chased my addiction around the entire world, from the Bering Sea of Alaska to South America to the South Pacific. I was looking for an easy answer or some kind of guru. Sometimes, I thought I would find a place where I could drink and use safely.
Of course, I never actually tried working the 12 steps or staying plugged in to any fellowship. I thought I was different and I could beat this disease – even though it almost killed me many times. I attended AA, NA and a couple of rehabs, but I never followed through with the 12 steps or the treatments. Over the years, I lost multiple houses, cars, jobs and relationships – it does happen in time.
It’s now 2006 and I am here at the Maine State Prison, serving 111/2 years for an OUI and a habitual motor vehicle offender charge. I have been here almost five years now. Once I was arrested, I made a decision to actually commit myself to taking action and going through the 12 steps of AA, from the Big Book, with a sponsor, as was recommended to me for all those years.
This may sound like an old cliche, but you know what? I am freer now than in all my many years of world traveling. Nothing has given me as much of a sense of purpose and passion to help others as this experience has.
This disease is crazy. It will tell you you’re all right; just have a drink or a hit and you’ll feel better, when in reality, you’re dying. Another insane thing: I had to admit to defeat to win! I can’t help but laugh, which I do often now, when I think about that. When I accepted the fact that I was beat down hard and said, “All right, I’m done, please help me to help myself ” – then I was on the road to recovery. The fellowship (there’s a great sense of relief and comfort in that word) of AA, through a power I call God that is greater than myself and this disease, has done for me what I could not do myself. It has given me what was promised – a whole new attitude and outlook on life.
Anyone who has been through the death and destruction of addiction and has entered recovery knows exactly what I am saying. For those who haven’t, please give yourselves a break and accept the solution offered. As we all know, this disease kills if we don’t accept help.
For some people, there are other paths to recovery besides the 12 steps. But you know what, I never found one and I almost died in search of alternatives. I found the solution just 50 miles from where my addiction started. I had to get locked up to do it, but I have gained my freedom from the desire to use. And I’m not alone. There are several inmates here who are very serious about their recovery and willing to help anyone who reaches out. That is what keeps the fellowship of AA alive – one alcoholic helping another, day after day, 24 hours at a time.
God works in really interesting ways, to say the least. Do I wish I had done things differently? You bet, but no matter how anyone sees this, He saved my life long enough for me to accept His help.
God Bless.
Randy Horr is an inmate at the Maine State Prison in Warren. Please join our conversation about Maine’s substance abuse problem. We welcome comments or questions from all perspectives. Letters may be mailed to Bangor Daily News, P.O. Box 1329, Bangor 04401. Send e-mail contributions to findingafix@bangordailynews.net. Column editor Meg Haskell may be reached at (207) 990-8291 or mhaskell@bangordailynews.net.
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