Two Drunks Met...Powerful
Two Drunks Met...Powerful
I received this in an email today and thought it was worth sharing......I take it to be meant as a recommendation for AA .... not for codies to stay and support.... ????
Before two drunks met.... WE DIED
We died of pneumonia in furnished rooms where they found us three days after, when somebody complained about the smell.
We died against bridge abutments and nobody knew if it was suicide and we probably didn't know either except in the sense that it was always suicide.
We died in hospitals, our stomachs huge, distended and there was nothing they could do.
We died in cells, never knowing whether we were guilty or not. We went to priests, they gave us pledges, they told us to pray, they told us to go and sin no more, but go. We tried and we died.
We died of overdoses, we died in bed, we died in straitjackets, in the DT's seeing God knows what, creeping, skittering, slithering, and skulking things. And you know what the worst thing was? The worst thing was that nobody ever believed how hard we tried.
We went to doctors and they gave us stuff to take that would make us sick when we drank on the principle of "so crazy, it just might work," I guess, or maybe they just shook their heads and sent us to places like Drop Kick Murphy's. And when we got out we were hooked on paraldehyde or maybe we lied too. And the doctors, they told us not to drink so much, "Just drink like me". And we tried, and we died.
We drowned in our own vomit or choked on it, our broken jaws wired shut. We died playing Russian roulette and people thought we 'd lost, but we knew better. We died under the hoofs of horses, under the wheels of vehicles, under the knives and boot heels of our brother drunks. We died in shame. And you know what was even worse was that we couldn't believe it ourselves, that we had tried. We figured we just thought we tried and didn't know what it meant to try.
When we were desperate enough or hopeful or deluded or embattled enough to go for help, we went to people with letters after their names and prayed that they might have read the right books, that had the right words in them, never suspecting the terrifying truth, that the right words, as simple as they were, had not been written yet.
We died falling off girders on high buildings, because of course ironworkers drink, of course they do. We died with a shotgun in our mouth, or jumping off a bridge, and everybody knew it was suicide.
We died under the Southeast Expressway, with our hands tied behind us and a bullet in the back of our head, because this time the people that we disappointed were the wrong people.
We died in convulsions, or of "insult to the brain," we died incontinent, and in disgrace, abandoned. If we were women, we died degraded, because women have so much more to live up to. We tried and we died and nobody cried.
And the very worst thing was that for every one of us that died, there were another hundred of us, or another thousand, who wished that they could die, who went to sleep praying we would not have to wake up because what we were enduring was intolerable and we knew in our hearts it wasn't ever going to change.
One day in a hospital room in New York City, one of us had what the books call a transforming spiritual experiance, and he said to himself "I've got it" (no, you haven't, you've only got part of it) "and I have to share it." (Now you've ALMOST got it) and he kept trying to give it away, but we couldn't hear it. We tried and we died.
We died of one last cigarette, the comfort of its glowing in the dark. We passed out and the bed caught fire. They said we suffocated before our body burned, they said we never felt a thing, that was the best way maybe that we died, except sometimes we took our family with us.
And the man in New York was so sure he had it, he tried to love us into sobriety, but that didn't work either, love confuses drunks and he tried and we still died.
One after another we got his hopes up and we broke his heart, because that's what we do. And the worst thing was that every time we thought we knew what the worst thing was something happened that was worse.
Until a day came in The Mayflower hotel lobby and it wasn't in Rome, or Jerusalem, or Mecca or even Dublin, or South Boston, it was in Akron, Ohio, for Christ's sake.
A day came when the man said "I have to find a drunk because I need him as much as he needs me" (NOW you've got it). And the transmission line, after all those years, was open, the transmission line was open. And now we don't go to priests, and we don't go to doctors and people with letters after their names.
We come to people who have been there, we come to each other. And we try. And we don't have to die.
I don't know who wrote this, but it touches my heart and brings tears of gratitude
Peace.
Take what you need and leave the rest.
Before two drunks met.... WE DIED
We died of pneumonia in furnished rooms where they found us three days after, when somebody complained about the smell.
We died against bridge abutments and nobody knew if it was suicide and we probably didn't know either except in the sense that it was always suicide.
We died in hospitals, our stomachs huge, distended and there was nothing they could do.
We died in cells, never knowing whether we were guilty or not. We went to priests, they gave us pledges, they told us to pray, they told us to go and sin no more, but go. We tried and we died.
We died of overdoses, we died in bed, we died in straitjackets, in the DT's seeing God knows what, creeping, skittering, slithering, and skulking things. And you know what the worst thing was? The worst thing was that nobody ever believed how hard we tried.
We went to doctors and they gave us stuff to take that would make us sick when we drank on the principle of "so crazy, it just might work," I guess, or maybe they just shook their heads and sent us to places like Drop Kick Murphy's. And when we got out we were hooked on paraldehyde or maybe we lied too. And the doctors, they told us not to drink so much, "Just drink like me". And we tried, and we died.
We drowned in our own vomit or choked on it, our broken jaws wired shut. We died playing Russian roulette and people thought we 'd lost, but we knew better. We died under the hoofs of horses, under the wheels of vehicles, under the knives and boot heels of our brother drunks. We died in shame. And you know what was even worse was that we couldn't believe it ourselves, that we had tried. We figured we just thought we tried and didn't know what it meant to try.
When we were desperate enough or hopeful or deluded or embattled enough to go for help, we went to people with letters after their names and prayed that they might have read the right books, that had the right words in them, never suspecting the terrifying truth, that the right words, as simple as they were, had not been written yet.
We died falling off girders on high buildings, because of course ironworkers drink, of course they do. We died with a shotgun in our mouth, or jumping off a bridge, and everybody knew it was suicide.
We died under the Southeast Expressway, with our hands tied behind us and a bullet in the back of our head, because this time the people that we disappointed were the wrong people.
We died in convulsions, or of "insult to the brain," we died incontinent, and in disgrace, abandoned. If we were women, we died degraded, because women have so much more to live up to. We tried and we died and nobody cried.
And the very worst thing was that for every one of us that died, there were another hundred of us, or another thousand, who wished that they could die, who went to sleep praying we would not have to wake up because what we were enduring was intolerable and we knew in our hearts it wasn't ever going to change.
One day in a hospital room in New York City, one of us had what the books call a transforming spiritual experiance, and he said to himself "I've got it" (no, you haven't, you've only got part of it) "and I have to share it." (Now you've ALMOST got it) and he kept trying to give it away, but we couldn't hear it. We tried and we died.
We died of one last cigarette, the comfort of its glowing in the dark. We passed out and the bed caught fire. They said we suffocated before our body burned, they said we never felt a thing, that was the best way maybe that we died, except sometimes we took our family with us.
And the man in New York was so sure he had it, he tried to love us into sobriety, but that didn't work either, love confuses drunks and he tried and we still died.
One after another we got his hopes up and we broke his heart, because that's what we do. And the worst thing was that every time we thought we knew what the worst thing was something happened that was worse.
Until a day came in The Mayflower hotel lobby and it wasn't in Rome, or Jerusalem, or Mecca or even Dublin, or South Boston, it was in Akron, Ohio, for Christ's sake.
A day came when the man said "I have to find a drunk because I need him as much as he needs me" (NOW you've got it). And the transmission line, after all those years, was open, the transmission line was open. And now we don't go to priests, and we don't go to doctors and people with letters after their names.
We come to people who have been there, we come to each other. And we try. And we don't have to die.
I don't know who wrote this, but it touches my heart and brings tears of gratitude
Peace.
Take what you need and leave the rest.
Last edited by CSHNow; 02-11-2011 at 06:06 AM. Reason: Format
Wow. That really says it all.
No, of course it isn't a plea for anyone to stay and "support" the alcoholic. If anything, it makes clear that drunks help each other, and God helps them. No one else was able to--not the experts with all the letters after their names, NOBODY.
Thanks for sharing this.
No, of course it isn't a plea for anyone to stay and "support" the alcoholic. If anything, it makes clear that drunks help each other, and God helps them. No one else was able to--not the experts with all the letters after their names, NOBODY.
Thanks for sharing this.
Wow. That really says it all.
No, of course it isn't a plea for anyone to stay and "support" the alcoholic. If anything, it makes clear that drunks help each other, and God helps them. No one else was able to--not the experts with all the letters after their names, NOBODY.
Thanks for sharing this.
No, of course it isn't a plea for anyone to stay and "support" the alcoholic. If anything, it makes clear that drunks help each other, and God helps them. No one else was able to--not the experts with all the letters after their names, NOBODY.
Thanks for sharing this.
I take it to be meant as a recommendation for AA .... not for codies to stay and support.... ????
It is about drunks helping other drunks and not being alone.
Cause we die alone.
Beth
The one thing that has become CRYSTAL CLEAR to me is that ONLY the addict /alcoholic can open their hands to receive help and do the work.The ONLY thing I can do to "support" their recovery..is to only focus on mine...wish I got that sooner, but all in good time I guess..more will be revealed...
The one thing that has become CRYSTAL CLEAR to me is that ONLY the addict /alcoholic can open their hands to receive help and do the work.The ONLY thing I can do to "support" their recovery..is to only focus on mine...wish I got that sooner, but all in good time I guess..more will be revealed...
And even then, it's iffy - I think they only reason they have a shot at all is the shared experiences. If the practicing alcoholic identifies with stories told by a self-professed recovering alcoholic, and decides to admit that they identify and that they might be an alcoholic as well, then the seed is planted.
Our experiences are different from theirs, we can't get through to them because we don't know the language of the alcoholic, and we're also too emotionally wrapped up in the outcome. It's hard to accept, but it's true.
When my first husband was still drinking, a co-worker gave me a copy of the Big Book. It was an eye-opener for me.
I took it home and gave it to my then-boyfriend to read. He did, and although he wasn't quite ready to go to a meeting, when he continued to struggle, he went to one.
After that first meeting, he continued to drink, until I told him I needed a break from the relationship and said I wasn't sure whether I could continue to be in one with things the way they were.
A short time later, he went to a meeting for himself. LOL, his cokehead friend drove him around and around as they tried to find the meeting place--my ex wanted to chuck it by then, but the friend insisted he was going. (The cokehead friend found his own sobriety years later.) It was talking to those other drunks, who KNEW EXACTLY WHAT WENT ON IN HIS MIND, that did it. He has now been sober 31 years, sponsors others, and carries the message just like those first two drunks did.
I took it home and gave it to my then-boyfriend to read. He did, and although he wasn't quite ready to go to a meeting, when he continued to struggle, he went to one.
After that first meeting, he continued to drink, until I told him I needed a break from the relationship and said I wasn't sure whether I could continue to be in one with things the way they were.
A short time later, he went to a meeting for himself. LOL, his cokehead friend drove him around and around as they tried to find the meeting place--my ex wanted to chuck it by then, but the friend insisted he was going. (The cokehead friend found his own sobriety years later.) It was talking to those other drunks, who KNEW EXACTLY WHAT WENT ON IN HIS MIND, that did it. He has now been sober 31 years, sponsors others, and carries the message just like those first two drunks did.
This first appeared in an issue of "Grapevine" quite a while ago, I believe in the '50's.
Yes it is about the meeting of Bill W. and Dr Bob and AA was born on June 10, 1935.
It was powerful when it was first written, and now I personally believe even more so that we have the WWW.
J M H O
Love and hugs,
Yes it is about the meeting of Bill W. and Dr Bob and AA was born on June 10, 1935.
It was powerful when it was first written, and now I personally believe even more so that we have the WWW.
J M H O
Love and hugs,
It was powerful when it was first written, and now I personally believe even more so that we have the WWW.
Wow. it is something.
Beth
Thank you for posting this.
Someone here, I don't remember who, said its just the same with us.... we are able to help each other in a special way that other people that hasn't gone through this is unable to understand...
Very sad reading. Thanks for reminding me why I left.
To see XABF around, smiling as if nothing is going on.
As if he is special and won't end up like one of those described.
Horrible disease, the denial still shocks me.
Very sad reading. Thanks for reminding me why I left.
To see XABF around, smiling as if nothing is going on.
As if he is special and won't end up like one of those described.
Horrible disease, the denial still shocks me.
Heartbreaking to think of it this way... seems such a terribly lonely way to live and die.
To see XABF around, smiling as if nothing is going on.
As if he is special and won't end up like one of those described.
Horrible disease, the denial still shocks me.
As if he is special and won't end up like one of those described.
Horrible disease, the denial still shocks me.
"That won't happen to me, I am different, I can handle it, etc"
Yep, I sure could handle it, living in my car, which I kept parked as much as possible (didn't want to get a DUI) at the back of the Hollywood Bowl parking lot, and of course,Ii wasn't like those 'others' (my 'wino' street folk friends), afterall I still had my car to sleep in, and folks places I could go to, to shower....................... sheesh, how sick is that?"
That is THE INSANITY.
J M H O
Love and hugs,
Call me a mushy guy. But I cried after reading this, because my wife has this so common addiction. I have no clue how addicts must feel. This does give me a better understanding. Thanks
I am so happy that everyone who has commented is taking the original post so well. I was hesitant to post it concerned that it would be too hard to take, taken the wrong way, and be too controversial. You are all so brave and so wonderful for sharing.
Thank you. :ghug3
Thank you. :ghug3
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