A RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC part I:ENTRY

Hello everyone. My name is, well, the rule is only your first name but since this is my story and I am the author, then you know who I am and I am a recovering alcoholic. I wrote this piece on the 3rd of August, 2014, so I guess it's been a while. I wrote it at the time as I was reaching a milestone I never imagined I'd get to. A milestone of which I am careful to be proud of as they say "Pride comes before a fall", and I sure as shootin' don't want to fall off my lil milestone wagon and so to celebrate I decided I'd write some of my story.

I was born in 1958 in Mexico and in 1963 we moved to Socorro,New Mexico with our new stepdad and Mom. It was my older sister and I at the time and we worked a ranch, raising hogs for ourselves and abt 1/4 acre of fresh food..tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, chile and melons. Nothing better than fresh vegetables.

I digress. A couple of years later, we moved to a very small town called San Acacia, about 13 miles out of Socorro where my dad was hired on as ranch foreman...of himself, basically. It was a small ranch that I think paid him all of like $400 a month but the owner had a house for us rent free and, of course, we grew a lot of our own food.

My sister and I worked a lot and took a lot of beatings from our stepdad. He would use whatever was at hand, (hoes, shovels, sticks, fists...whatever he could use..we were kids, man!) but back then there was no such thing as abuse or cops to call. We used to watch our stepdad get stupid drunk and whale on our mom, too! As a child, how do you stop something like that?

Anyway, that was my initial foray into the world of alcohol, though I would become much more intimate with its effects and companionship later.

School was vacation for us, for me, in particular. We could escape our environment and into a sane world where there were bright lights and books and people that didn't scare you! (When I take my son or grandkids or myself to the doctor, I am mildly amused by them always asking these days "Do you feel safe at home?") You know, people that you could talk to and laugh with? There was no pain, just happy-go-lucky..I hated when school let out for summer. That meant no break from work, work, work and pain!

You have no idea how many times I look back with regret wishing we could have said NO when they asked if we felt safe at home., but back then there was no such thing as abuse. Or at least not in rural ranches. And calling the cops was NOT an option. It wasn't available so we did the best we could.

End of Part I...

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PART II: INFLUENCE

1973: We moved to Albuquerque which was about 60 miles north of Socorro. I attended Lincoln Junior high-which is now a public school maintenance building-for 9th grade. My elder sister went to the old Albuquerque HS.

Shortly after, our stepdad purchased a house in the south valley of Alb(ALbuquerque from this point on)in a new division called Valley Gardens. We were one of the first to move there, so naturally, there were a lot of empty lots surrounding us. Nothing but dirt and a few houses! Now there is not a piece of dirt in sight.

So 1974 rooled around and I begab life at Rio Grande HS. I'd gone to quite a few schools by now as we had also gone to California for a couple of years when I was around 8 or 9, so having to start new friendships and mixing with new people was nothing new to us. I think that's why I'm rather hesitant to in forming new friendships cuz you never know how long those people would stay in your life. By now, we had three younger sisters so I felt even more isolated being the only male in the house. I learned to do a lot of things by myself(that would serve me well in drinking alone later on). Shit happens, right? Oh, and the beatings continued!

I remember, quite vividly, visiting family in Juarez when I was about 11 or 12 yrs old. One of the fathers gave his son a drink of his beer like it was nothing and depending on the culture(french culture allows wine for all at the table, I believe), it probably was not. I remember him exhorting my stedad to give me a taste but of course, that was not about to happen. I wonder to this day if he had given me a taste, would I have lusted so after a taste I never got? Would my life have turned out different? Maybe, maybe not! Who knows? Certainly God, but no one else!

I do know that I had a friend from Alb, whose family used to visit our previous home in San Acacia and we met there and became fast friends! Ronny's parents owned a home there and visited during summers and being a city kid, he knew a lot of city kid things and i admired him for it, and they had "stuff" I would never have or would get from my stepdad!

We stayed friends for years and he introduced me to my first "girlfriend" when I was 14 but that was that awkward thing between the inexperience of kids on the verge of discovery! She happened to be the sister of his current GF and we all went to Lincoln JHS together, then one day after my family had moved and I was going to RGHS, we skipped school and we took a roadtrip down to the old stomping ground in San Acacia...with a case of beer!

Wish there had been alarms or potentious gut-feelings of disaster at the presence of the beer, but when you're young and dumb and out to impress and the people you're with, then you nor they know your life is about to change for the next 20 yrs or so...

On to the beer! We opened up a can each once we got to our destination and were enjoying ourselves tremendously! I, not wanting to be seen as a neophyte in the art of drinking, began downing beer like water..being said neophyte, not realizing the relation between weight and amount of drink to consume and still be aware. That was the day I begin my career as a full-blown alcoholic. Some people start slow and build up tolerance. I had no such intention! I had no stop button! I think I just wanted to catch up for all the times I had been told NO for even the smallest things!

Of course, I didn't know that at the time and got way drunk! I sure impressed my friends and the girls..sure I did!

My friend dropped me off around 2pm or so a couple of streets from where I lived, as I'm sure he wanted no part of any consequences related to my parents regarding my inebriation! Can't blame him!

So I stumbled my drunk ass home-not sure how I made it but I did. My poor mom was so angry at me(the things I put my poor mom through!). I never realized til later how disappointed and hurt she must have been seeing me in that condition. Wish I could tell her how sorry I am but it's always too late, isn't it? I wish I could share this milestone with her to make up for that day but I am so glad she is not hurting anymore.I don't recall my mom ever raising her hand at me(I'm sure there was a time or two but rarely)but I remember her slapping me that day!

Thus began my 20 yrs of trials and my illicit love affair with alcohol..what a mean-spirited mistress! The many other occasions in which I embarrassed friends with my drinking prowess-if you can call it that. Many funny, but really more sad than funny in retrospect!