Alcohol ... The Most Dangerous Drug

I've debated several times whether I would write this post, but God keeps telling me to tell the story and teach the lessons.

I feel like alcohol is the most dangerous drug in our society. I feel this because it's "socially acceptable".

For years, I was an alcoholic. I started drinking with my childhood friends around the age of 14 to "fit in" and "be cool". We used to ride around in one of our friend's van and drink anything we could get at that age which mostly consisted of: Bartel & James wine coolers and malt liquor. As we grew older, the alcohol selections grew more "sophisticated" and readily available.

Moreover, I began to sense a pattern. For years, I would go to social events for companies and even law firms that I worked with and alcohol used to be an integral part of the process. Many times, I remember being so drunk in high school that I would ride my motorcycle home from Troy and everything was a daze for me. I would get home and couldn't remember getting home. Or ... while I was riding, I would have conversations with myself that I wish my friends and people who cared for me would have had, "are you ok? Should you be driving? Do you think you should turn around and go home in the morning?"

I remember one time when I was leaving a party and my friends were following me on my motorcycle. We got to the intersection of Big Beaver and Crooks and I turned into the lefthand lane to turn left and fell over in the middle of the street with my bike on top of me. One of my friends got out of the car and came over while the others laughed, "Are you alright?" he asked. "Nope, " I said. He helped me up and I rode home. Now, that's what friends are for.

Later in life, I was at a company Christmas party in downtown San Francisco and we were drinking beers on the roof. I asked if I could take some beers home from the party and I did. This was in December of 2000 and I stuck the two beers in the glove compartment of my car and rode home.

In March 2001, I was leaving a reggae club in Alameda County, California where I had been dancing for hours and had had two beers. I got pulled over by the police about 2 blocks from the club. When they asked me for my license and registration, I reached into the glove compartment to pull out my registration and a bottle of beer fell out. I'm sure you know what happened next.

I stepped out of the car as they requested and they made me take the field sobriety tests. I passed everyone except for standing on ONE LEG for like 30 seconds. Well, I didn't think I was drunk, but I had been dancing for 5 hours straight and I can't stand on one leg for that long sober without some deep pre-stretching and yoga concentration. So, I failed 3 times in a row.

They asked me to blow into the breathalizer and I refused. I didn't know what the law was and said that I "wanted to speak to an attorney before I blew into the thing" because I didn't understand what the consequences would be if I failed that test as well. They said that was "ok" and I "didn't have to blow". They promptly arrested me for driving under the influence (DUI) because in the state of California, as in most states, refusing to take the breathalizer test is a automatic conviction for DUI. I was ignorant of that law.

So, they took me to Alameda County jail where I spent the night and was released the next morning. I went to court and made a strong and compelling argument for myself and the judge let me off with a warning and two years probation.

I left California but didn't really let the lesson of the experience sink in. I returned back to Michigan soon after that because I lost my job when Silicon Valley collapsed.

After returning to Michigan, I soon started going out salsa dancing and found myself frequenting the Volcano Grill in Southfield, MI. I was staying at my mother's house in Bloomfield Hills while my condo in Pontiac was being built. I was very new to salsa and hadn't reached a comfort level yet with the dancing or the social scene. So, often times, I would drink a few beers before trying to approach anyone to dance.

I quickly became recognizable to the bartenders, especially because I was getting so drunk - trying to get comfortable or relaxed that I would leave the club at the end of the night and leave my credit card or driver's license at the bar.

Well, one night, I was leaving from the club, drunk, and got pulled over almost 2 blocks from the Bloomfield Township Police Dept. They told me I was doing 60 in a 50 and when I took the field sobriety tests, I failed miserably because this time I was really drunk.

So, I went to court and got sentenced to 30 days in jail because of the California conviction just one year before. I went to Oakland County jail still dressed to a "T" in the only suit I owned directly from the courtroom. I had to sleep on the floor in the holding cage with 10 other guys the first night because they didn't have any mattresses available in the gym where they were holding the prisoners because of overcrowding.

The next day, I was moved to the gymnasium where they were holding about 200 men. It was extremely remiscent of a slave ship. I called my attorney and asked him to beg the judge to let me get work release because I just scored a major programming project with a new client and needed the money to pay my fines, etc.

The judge agreed and after 4-5 days, I was released on work release. Those 4-5 days gave me ALL time I needed to reflect on my life and to reevaluate it. I was given a piece of paper and a pencil and I began to write about both experiences in CA and in MI and why I began drinking and why I wanted to stop. I wrote page after page about the experience until I fleshed out the meaning for myself and the lesson.

Finally, I was moved over to the work release facility where I had to sign out each morning and I would go home to my mother's house because my office was set up in her basement and work the entire day on building this website and software application for my new client. In the evening, Monday through Friday, I had to return to the lock-down facility to complete my sentence around 6pm. ON the weekends, I was not allowed to leave because that was not part of the program.

This went on for 21 days. 21 days was all I needed to come to a realization, "I had a problem". What dawned on me was how deeply alcohol had penetrated my social fabric and how harmful it was to my future.

Soon after my release, I was ordered to attend alcohol awareness classes and submit to a daily breathalizer at the courthouse every day for 30 days. I completed that process with flying colors.

But what was most powerful for me were the alcohol-awareness classes and the definition of alcoholism and the understanding that left with from the classes and the group discussions. How do you define alcoholism? So many people think that they can define it and what they tend to actually do is create a definition that includes everyone else, but them: "When you drink alone", "when you drink when you're upset or depressed", "when you blackout or throw up", etc, etc.

The definition of alcoholism that I subscribe to now is: "Alcoholism is when every time you drink, you overdo it." It's that simple. My counselor said, "Even if you only drink once a year, but you get 'drunk as hell' or 'messed up', that's alcoholism." It's truly the inability to say, "that's enough ... I need to stop". That's what I was. I really didn't drink that frequently, but when I did, I drank to get drunk - and I did so because I thought I would have a good time when I was drunk.

So, I had served my time, was able to maintain my business clients and financial resources, but the lessons were harsh and impressionable.

When I finally moved into my condo, I had to make a decision. "Now, what kind of life are you going to lead?" I bought the condo to be a "party place". We were gonna have parties with girls, drinks, music - the whole nine. But, who did I want to be ... now? I still had the wine cooler in my office stocked with Heinnekens and a dozen bottles of Moet. Who was I going to be?

I had to decide. Am I going to throw all of that alcohol away and just keep it out of my sight? Well, that's never been my way. I feel like, "you can't conquer something, unless you confront it". So, I decided to keep the alcohol right where it was but - keep it in its place. In other words, I would never again over do it. That didn't mean I might not have a beer or some champagne, but you would nver see me drunk ... again. Moreover, I agreed with myself that I would NEVER drink and drive again.

By the way, for all of his faults, I thank God for my brother, Dion, because when I had to bring someone for my family and friends counseling session on alcoholism and how it affects relationships, he didn't hesitate, he told, "I'll be there" and he came and supported me. And ... I love him and will always appreciate him for that.

During my self-reflection in the gym of the Oakland County jail I realized why I had become an alcoholic. It was because I had formed a cycle of behavior throughout my life of compensating for feelings of alienation or discomfort by drinking until I numbed the emotions.

Whenever I would find myself in a foreign and uncomfortable environment (e.g. a new city, a new state, a new country or a club or atmostphere where I felt out of place) I would drink some liquid courage until I could blend in and feel comfortable.

Well, for me, from the age of 18 until the age of 27, I moved every year to a new city, state or country. I realized that I was stuck in a viscious cycle. Each year, I packed, moved to a new place, unpacked, sought out the local black club, went, got drunk, met some woman (drunk), started dating, sobered up, broke up and moved to the next location. It was a viscious cycle that I had to break in 2002 at the age of 29!

I returned to Michigan, planted roots and decided for myself that I would never go to another club that where I didn't feel comfortable or stay in any situation where I felt like I had to drink to remain there. So, I haven't since.

As an aside, I thnk that alcohol is the most dangerous drug in our society. Why? Because it's socially acceptable. Imagine this ... if you went over someone's house and they had 20 prescription pill bottles sitting on there kitchen counter, what would you say or silently think to yourself? "Hmmm ... I wonder what's wrong with them? I hope they're ok."

Now, imagine if you went to that same person's house, but instead of prescription pills they had a beautiful wooden cabinet stocked full of 20 different alcohol bottles of: Patron, Grey Goose, Moet, White Zinfandel, Smirnoff, Alize, Bacardi, Jack Daniels, etc, etc. What would you think or say? Not much right, but why wouldn't you think ... "hmm ... I wonder what's wrong with them? I hope they're ok."

That's the danger in my opinion. We have been socialized to believe that alcohol is some kind of social lubrication tool, but a well-developed individual has all of the natural lubrication they need to function in a highly social environment.

I wanted to relate this story here on this blog because I wanted to push the bounds of my courage. How willing am I to drop the waterline of my life and expose all of the lessons I learned in an effort to impart some wisdom.

Alcoholism and the evil repercussions of the bad decisions that I made as a result were a blessing to my life. I'm so glad that I learned those lessons so young and was able to right my wrong direction early in life before children, grandchildren and my soulmate were involved. Now, I draw strength from being able to relate the wisdom of the lesson along with many others that I've learned.

So, I hope that this personal growth of mine will have some beneficial affect on your life as well.