Change is Possible
An alcoholic contronts fear and finds freedom
My name is Mark and I am an alcoholic. I have been incarcerated for the past seventeen years.
I think that some people on the outside might think that a prisoner would be able to maintain sobriety more easily on the inside. But as an active alcoholic, I have always found a way to make or
obtain a substance to remove the pain that has been with me since early on.
Today, there is no way on God’s green earth that I would allow my life to return to the way it was.
My life was full of mistaken beliefs and the desire to be removed from my own skin. I wanted to be left alone and put into my own little world. I was unaware that life could be anything other than dreams,
never to be fulfilled because I wasn't willing to put forth the effort to make them come true. I was only interested in getting drunk to hide my feelings. I was scared that I would not be liked. and then I was
scared that I would be liked -- and I'd have to be a friend. I didn't know what a friend was. I thought a friend was someone who would drink with me or supply it.
I was afraid that the reality of life would reach up and bite me on the backside. I was afraid that people would see that I was a nice guy and then would use it to their advantage. Or I was afraid they
would see the insecure person who stood before them.
I spent so much time hiding my true self that I got lost somewhere in the abyss of lies and stories of grandeur. I was lost in my thinking. I wanted to prove that I was a tough guy, so after graduating
high school I joined the Marine Corps.
Throughout my tour in the Marines, drinking was second nature, but from day one, it was a problem. I remember standing on the top of a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea on the island of Sicily,
and instead of looking at the beauty of it, was thinking of where I was going to get more booze. I never felt like I fit into the mold of what I was supposed to be. I hid behind the booze
or played the "I don’t remember" card when it suited me.
I always believed that saying "I'm sorry" would make everything okay. In time, those words became as hollow as a reed. One day, drunk and out of control at a keg party, I was flirting with the
girls there -- this was nothing new; when I drank, I believed I was a "ladies' man." My girlfriend was a little peeved. She told my brother; he believed that he needed to defend her honor, and he attacked me.
Drunk and incapable of conscience thought, I fought back, and in doing so, took my brother's life and seriously injured another man. Reality came full circle and the result was a thirty-two-year prison
term. I didn't take it to trial because my family had suffered enough. Besides, I think actually remembering that night would have taken me out of this world.
I am currently incarcerated in a facility that provides meetings and guides folks through the Steps. Here, I met my sponsor and started my journey of recovery. I have lost a lot of freedom, but I have
gained a total picture of the way that things are. I thank God for Alcoholics Anonymous and the people in my life.
I have chaired, co-chaired, and been secretary for meetings. Because of overcrowding, the facility was choosing inmates to be moved to Virginia. I was one of those selected to be shipped out, because by
then I had some time sober and was not a "problem child." I am active in the Alcoholics Anonymous program, and I have changed my life. Now that I have been sober for a while, I understand that life will throw
challenges at me. But there is a way to remain in recovery and stride forward. I also have Jim T., an outside AA, in my corner today -- or, at least, on the other side of a fifteen-minute phone call.
I was denied parole in February 2006, and one of the wonderful people in my life told me that I showed "strength of character." This was harder to accept than being denied parole. But low self-esteem no
longer holds me back -- it has been a part of the growth over the years. On the evening that I was denied parole, Jim was there to help me shed some of my self-pity.
Today I understand that freedom is a state of mind, not a physical attribute. In the freedom of recovery, I have found a peace to be with myself. In helping other alcoholics, I can see what was freely given
to me: Hope.
When my time is up and I can once again walk among the free, I will thank my Higher Power for the people who have held my hand and guided me through this. My Higher Power has put them along this path I walk.
In the beginning, I followed all the suggestions, whether or not I wanted to. My sponsor has been my greatest source of strength toward living life on life's terms.
He has given me the ability to understand that the pain in my life is inevitable -- it is the suffering that is optional. I can change my mistaken beliefs and walk a path of recovery one day at a time.
So I continue to do what is suggested and what has worked for many of the people who have walked the path before me.
Throughout my incarceration I have heard fellow inmates say, a million times, "I won't be back." But drinking wasn't looked at nor were any changes made to beliefs. It was important for me to do that,
for it allows me to live in the here and now.
I will be incarcerated until 2012. It is my punishment for my crimes, and I own that. But change is also mine to own. If I listed everything recovery gave me, it would go on for infinity. The greatest
gift is, was, and always will be, hope -- hope for a brighter and better future.
Mark G., Connecticut
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