Category: Lifeline

I like to travel, and often go by myself. I can stay as long as I want, and do what I want. I realized fairly early that I shouldn’t stay alone in my own head too long, though. Luckily, I don’t have to. Years ago, I learned I could go to Central Office before I left town. They would copy the page from the Western States Directory for the area I was going to. I took off with addresses and even some phone numbers for places I might have never been. One great memory is when I’d been in Yellowstone for about four days. I had gone to a meeting in West Yellowstone one evening. On the way home I stopped along the Henry’s Fork by Island Park. It’s a beautiful river, and great fishing. The bonus was, I knew there was a meeting at the Church in the Pines that evening. After fishing, I went over to the church and cooked dinner on my tailgate. The meeting is outside during the Summer, and they have a fire pit. It’s a powerful experience to sit around a fire with friends you’ve just met, and share. The bond we can have with each other is something I hope I never take for granted. Now, with the internet, the information is at our fingertips. We can find a meeting almost anywhere, and don’t have to be alone longer than we want to be. It’s a great way to get some local tips, also.

Mel H.

Lived Experience: An Interview Talk to me about your first high, or your first alcoholic high. What were you trying to cover up? I didn’t get my first taste of inebriation until age 18. I was at a friend’s house. He mixed me a glass of Seagram’s 7 whisky and Dr. Pepper. I vividly recall the pungent odor burning my nostrils and the warm burn in my throat as it lit my chest and stomach afire. I fell instantly in love. I had other mistresses throughout the years – marijuana and various hallucinogens, opioids, and even brief romantic encounters with cocaine and meth – but my first and only true love was alcohol. That first drink was the very first time I ever recall feeling really alive. For the first time, I felt normal in my own skin – as if I had found something to make me fit perfectly into the world. Prior to my introduction to alcohol, I had felt lonely and confused on this planet – like an alien wearing human skin and mimicking the voices of those who surround me. With alcohol coursing through my bloodstream, I felt truly free. It allowed me to shed my mask, and simply be me. I wasn’t covering anything up with alcohol. I was liberating the monster I believed I honestly was. What kinds of cultural messages did you absorb from growing up? I was born into a strict Mormon household. My father was the Bishop of our church Ward for several of my teenage years. Alcohol and drugs were not only forbidden, but inaccessible. I am the oldest sibling in a large family, and my childhood was idyllic. I spent summer days catching snakes and riding my bicycle around suburban neighborhoods overgrown with sunflowers twice my height, where imagination was the only limit to my excitement. My parents were both loving and supportive – and neither have ever tasted alcohol to this day. Both my maternal and paternal grandparents lived within a short bike-ride from our house, and some of my best friends were also my cousins. My life was picture-perfect in every way…but I had rebellion built into my bones… What stopped you? What physically stopped me from drinking the very last time were police officers serving a warrant for my arrest. I had been arrested and jailed several times in the past for alcohol-related mayhem, but during this particular jail stint something began to shift within me. I clearly recall my 39th day of this jail term in brilliant detail. The Salt Lake County Metro Jail is divided into cell blocks called “pods.” The only space within each pod with access to fresh air, sunlight, and the remnants of outside are contained in a single common area composed of tall concrete walls with a metal grate as a roof. On this particular day, I was walking circles in this concrete bunker, partaking of fresh air, and staring up through the grate into a clear, blue sky and puffy white clouds. I was the only inmate in this area at the time (which was very rare), and I distinctly recall seeing the soft movement of the clouds above, and noticing something unimaginable: I hadn’t had a single thought of drinking that entire day. To me, this was nothing short of a miracle. On an average day, even while in jail or treatment, I spent at least 90% of my mental energy obsessing over alcohol. The absence of this obsession shook me to my core, and I consider this moment in my life a spiritual experience. The obsession had been lifted, and has never returned. Talk to me about the lies you told yourself about drinking. The lies and self-deceit surrounding my drinking ran deep. In the honeymoon period of my drinking, I was convinced that alcohol made me more sociable, more desirable, more brave, more machismo. As my drinking devolved into alcoholism, booze began to slowly distort my perception of myself. I began to believe that I would always be a slave to alcohol – that I needed it to cope with the personal injustices that my birth had dealt me, that I required it to deal with the world and the people in it who would never understand me, and to survive my own mind. In short, alcohol stole my identity. I lied to myself on a daily basis in order to continue this toxic relationship with alcohol. Alcohol was the woman who shamed me, told me I was worthless, inflicted physical injury on me, made me physically and emotionally ill, and convinced me that I deserved to die a horrible death. Each morning I would crawl back into the arms of this woman that I both hated and loved, telling myself, “This time things will be different…” My relationship with alcohol nearly caused me to end my own life, and yet I still returned, again and again, manipulating myself into believing that she was my last real and comforting friend in the entire world. The “God” thing: how do you know? In the beginning, believing in a power greater than myself meant separating the concept of a Higher Power with the word “God.” “God” was a three-letter word that came with heavy baggage because of my religious upbringing. However, simply believing in a power greater than myself was a good start – because there were a lot of powers that were obviously greater than myself all around me. I still consider myself somewhat agnostic (although my spirituality has evolved over the course of my recovery), and my favorite chapter in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous is We Agnostics. My original concept of “God,” comes directly from this chapter, which states, “we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is everything or else He is nothing. God either is, or He isn’t. What was our choice to be?” I literally chose to define my Higher Power as “everything.” So far, that description has worked splendidly for me. Do you have any parting advice to pass on to your future self? Stay humble. Keep it simple. Never forget where you’ve been, or where you could go, but live only in the present moment. To preserve your peace, always strive for acceptance. Cherish your suffering as the primary source of your strength. -Nate V. 


When I was asked to write an article for the lifeline, it became apparent to me how fitting it would be to render a few of my thoughts about the many gifts I have received from AA, of course, a natural subject to reflect upon this time of year. I came to AA in 1988 to save a marriage. I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself involved with. No idea how the program or way of life, as I like to perceive it, was going to change my existence in so many ways through a series of gifts given to me by the Supreme Power. A divorce ensuing, separation from my family and a business ready for the scrap-heap, I was finally brought to my knees. I complained to an employee about my wife continuing to follow through with the divorce unless I did something about my drinking. I couldn’t afford treatment and the health department had no room for me. He suggested AA, and I replied, “I don’t need more car insurance, I need help with my drinking!” He laughed and said, “No. AA, Alcoholics Anonymous.” I asked, “What is Alcoholics Anonymous? “He then told me it’s a place where all these old guys get together and talk about getting drunk. Well, I’m a drunk for sure, maybe this is for me. I attended my first meeting in June of 1988 and became completely sober on July 4th, the same year. That, my friends, was the first gift. The compulsion to drink continued for about five months after my last drunk. I was told if I prayed the Power would remove it. My desperation for sobriety and fear of losing everything allowed me many hours in prayer to have the obsession removed, and finally one day, it was gone. Gift number two. However, the obsession to use my old ways of thinking, that included my fear-driven character defects, lingered. It was suggested I may try to take the steps with a sponsor. I thought drinking was my problem. Wrong. I thought if I stopped drinking and using all mind-altering substances, all would be good. Wrong again. These defects of character as described in the Twelve and Twelve, only amplified themselves. The excruciating pain created from these defects, specifically resentments, forced me to override the fear of change, and to take the steps very seriously or drink again. Of course, to drink again was to die. I have come to believe the idea of being thorough from the very start is imperative for permanent sobriety. The taking of a fearless moral inventory revealed that, resentments from harm caused by others, was a major issue within me. I didn’t realize how much personal power I was giving to these resentments until I shared my 5th step with another person. The exact nature of my wrongs included “conditional” forgiveness towards others at a sub-conscience level that kept me in bondage of self. Today I have a new attitude toward resentments and forgiveness. I believe the word forgive is a combination of two words – for and give. I think about forgiving as “giving before the fact.” I was not willing to forgive others before they asked for it. Writing a letter to other people, places and things includes things such as; “Yes you hurt me and it was very painful, however I hold you harmless for that.” “I love you and care about you deeply. It’s okay now and I no longer hold you responsible. I no longer hold you in bondage or expect you to do anything about it.” “I am big enough and capable enough to handle the harm done to me.” I don’t send these letters, I only write them and deposit them into my God Box. I don’t forgive others in order to help them; I do it to help myself. That is true “unconditional” forgiveness because, when I am injured, I only have two choices – either to forgive or resent. Forgiveness implies a foundation of strength that is large enough, capable and strong enough to handle adversity from others without crumbling or seeking revenge. The principle of unconditional forgiveness not only relieved me from the bondage of self, it also relieved the fear of people, as stated in the 9th Step Promises. Walking in the light of unconditional forgiveness has given me a new freedom that I have never felt before. It freed me from endless hours of hashing over the wrongs others have done to me. I believe this is the greatest gift of all from Higher Power for mankind and me to receive, to grow to become better people. The 29 years I have been sober has been a special blessing and gift from God, that I am extremely grateful for, especially the gift of forgiveness. -Jumpin Joe, Alcoholic.

I started my addiction at the age of ten years old. Drinking was a common thing in my house hold, and from age ten my usage increased and by junior high I was drinking almost a fifth a day. By high school it was black velvet and marijuana, cocaine and pain killers, and after high school it was one big party along with jail, prison, and countless bad relationships. A repeat cycle that never produced any good. Then in the spring of 2009 I was introduced to methadone and absolute vodka bombs and I continued on that path until November 2012. I moved out here to Salt Lake City Utah where I gave up the methadone and became a liter of whiskey every two days, and that only increased with time, like before I found myself in a loveless marriage. Me loving her and her loving her affairs which led me into total relapse of meth, liquor, heroin and once again to prison. I served twelve months and was released in January 2017, but while in prison I never wanted to seek out help or deal with the fact that my marriage was over, so in June of 2017 I found myself in R&O out here in Draper thanking God I was caught. For the first time in my life I was glad I was in prison, I was off the street and ready to face my addiction head on. It’s not easy to admit that your powerless over a substance, but sometimes we all must face the truth, and this time I’m facing the truth. I’m not only an alcoholic, but an addict, but I’m dealing with my issues and my addiction one day at a time thanking God for one more chance at life and to be sober. I’d like to thank a man I’ll call Mr. P for giving this old Michigan boy a little inspiration and hope. If Mr. P can do it so can I.

Thank you, Anonymous

What if all of life weren’t such a fragile thing-

And all of time spent kept locked on loop eternally,

But all the while still perceived equally as fleeting

As the first flash of eyelashes batting softly back to sleep,

And that first dream that lasted light-years-

But woke to know no longer than a gleam-

In the eyes of someone dying,

Who must first close their eyes to see.

And all your enemies and loved ones flew like angels overhead,

To watch over you in all you do As if they all were dead.

But there’d be no sorrow, piercing grief or remorseful pounding thoughts-

If you knew that truly they were all much better off.

So you’re stuck down here alone and wand’ring endlessly around.

Cause this earth may have a lot of land,

But you still can’t find common ground.

What if all of life weren’t balanced-

If we had good without the bad.

Don’t you think life would be futile

If monotony is all we had?

If no sorrow became apathy, no anger became boring,

Then we’d all be trapped right back to the other side which they all tried to hide from in the beginning. What if all the animals and plants retook the earth.

And all the oceans rose up to swallow all that we considered “worth.”

If the mountains shook the ground and lava turned us to ash- we burned.

Our embers became forgotten,

Like our screams were never heard.

What if the sun and moon were the only gods that we lived by-

And we all worshiped this world as a gift from the sky.

Cause we all are breathing the same air,

Drinking water from different tides.

But the same sun will rise tomorrow,

The same moon will shine tonight.

We’re all spinning around aimlessly-

While all staying in the same spot.

And there’s nothing in this universe I can control except my thoughts.

We all continue living, dying, creating and some destroy.

If we all lived in a perfect world- Then none would ever know joy.

If we want the world to heal

We must first stop inflicting hurt.

And you can learn to live and love

Through every truth you’ve heard.

If everybody cared, we’d be the change we want to see.

Existence is an endless question- Infinite mystery… It can only be what you make it, It can only be what you believe. -Sade LK, Alcoholic

My name is Sean. I am writing from the Utah State Prison and am in the Conquest Drug Program and am getting ready to graduate the program in a couple of weeks and then be released shortly after that. I am from Ogden UT and have tried doing parole there in the past and as it turns out it’s just not a good place for this alcoholic/addict. When I violated my parole Aug 19, 2016 I figured I would do my violation and go right back to doing what I do again. I started going to AA and working with some great people who bring us hope each week. After a few months things started changing in my heart and mind. I started to want what these people had. Fast forward to today a year later and I have a solid plan. When I leave this place in a short time, I am going to a sober living in SLC. I know exactly what meeting I will attend the Tuesday I get out, and look forward to a Sunday morning meeting that Craig, Kristen and Pine have told me so much about. I cannot thank these three enough. They have given me hope, they have treated me with nothing but respect, and all three I consider among my closest friends today. If you are feeling hopeless go to a meeting and find someone who has what you want, ask them how you can get it. If you are doing good and are wondering how you can give back please consider coming out to the prison to chair meetings. I can only imagine what my plans might have been when I leave here if I hadn’t met these three heroes a year ago. Now with their help I feel like I am in a much better place today and know I can make it out there sober and clean one day at a time, and I can’t wait to meet everyone at the Sunday morning meeting.

Respectfully, Sean

Chocolate or vanilla? Coffee. Decaf coffee over ice that isn’t wet. Chicken or beef? Bacon, bacon. More bacon. With bacon sauce.

Talk to me about your first high or your first alcoholic high. What were you trying to cover up?

The first time I remember getting high was out front of Ripple’s drive-in in Edgemont. We moved to Orem from Salt Lake City where all my family lived, and my mom put us into Catholic school in Provo virtually ensuring us pariah status among the Mormon children. In our Orem rental house, we lived in a sane family oriented neighborhood with lots of kids to play with who all went to public school. I stepped on my first bee and I dropped a rock on my big toe, losing the nail. I also knocked the wind out of my lungs when I fell off my bike jumping moguls. Normal childhood stuff. I could handle my Mother and Father because I had friends to confide in. When we moved to our house in Provo, it was on top of a mountain with a paved road and a propane tank. Limited access. My parents dream home. They purchased the acreage so they could run around naked outside without any neighbors watching. It was the 60’s. I needed friends and I got on my bike every day to ride around and find them. Summers were the loneliest time for me. I hooked up with some local kids down the street from the ward house. We’d been to primary and they wanted to go to Ripple’s for Lime Rickey’s. The purpose of the adventure (although unspoken) was to find a way to ease our collective, pre-teen angst and raging hormones. We went into the market next door and bought some airplane glue. We took turns sniffing it. This is what I affectionately call the valium effect. Certainly, alcohol followed afterward. It was easy to get my hands on and affordable. I was trying to cover up the fact that my family was insane; that every day I went home not knowing if I would either be body slammed to the floor (by my father) or serenaded by him with his sultry voice and guitar or staring into a circle of my 3 immediate family members who were screaming at each other .. I never knew what to expect. Getting high was a discovery of immense proportion because this was a way to make all feeling disappear. No feeling, no thinking, no pain. This became my formula for survival.

What happened to you?

Traumatic experience. I was date raped on my 18th birthday. I became pregnant. I graduated from High School. I moved away from home. My parents found out that I was pregnant. They came to where I lived and grabbed me; one wrist, one arm, one parent; other wrist, other arm, other parent. Threw me into the back seat of a car and told me to lie still all the way to California. I disassociated into two people that day, both named Kathy .. or maybe it was DID. We’ll never know for sure. They traded my baby for the payment of a hospital bill. I had the money to pay the bill, but they wouldn’t let me pay it. We drove home like nothing ever happened. I was forbidden to talk about it with anyone. My afterwards plan was to drink until I killed off all my brain cells. Turns out killing off your body and brain is more difficult than one can imagine.

What stopped you?

It took decades of alcohol abuse and severe loss to have any impact on my awareness. I had no healthy relationships, no self-worth, no money, and no spiritual connection what-so-ever. I’d been in and out of several psychiatric hospitals to address everything but the alcohol. I’d been diagnosed with several mental health disorders, but I always kept my usage hidden as I couldn’t face the possibility of losing the one tangible item that meant the most to me always: booze. I finally stopped because I was going to die. I didn’t want to die, I just wanted to be dead. Only an alcoholic knows what that feels like. In April of 2009, my daughter told me she was engaged to be married and I could not allow her to walk down the aisle with a broken, disheveled, drunken mother at her side. She was more important than the booze. She was the one person I loved more than the booze. I didn’t love myself, but I knew that I had to learn to live a life with the absence of alcohol, or risk losing her forever.

Talk to me about the lies you told yourself about getting drunk.

I lied to myself about everything. You could not tell the truth in my family. It fell upon me to tell a story of believable proportions to extricate myself from the fighting, which involved my mom, dad and sibling. I learned to lie, exaggerate and embellish just enough to keep my dad from beating me up or chasing me off the balcony in one of his daily rages. If he believed my story, I was off the hook for whatever infraction he was going to attack me for. If he didn’t believe me, I could wear him down with my bullshit. It had to be a win for me because I lived every day with the fear that I would not live. The lies served as a protection from him, her and my community. And with that lie strategy firmly entrenched into my thinking, I could substance abuse with impunity.

How do you know when your Higher power is live streaming through you?

I know that God is live streaming through me when I have enormous peace just before an extremely difficult task or when I must make a hard decision. I become awash in peaceful feeling, like a sonic bath; invisible guidance. Life has real challenges which must be faced soberly. I also know that there are helping hands with me always. I feel energies intensely, and I try to stay alert for these guides. I know that I know some things which I can’t explain, and I look for proof in the form of intuition, just to secure my confidence that I am indeed downloading from source. There is no difficulty with the size of a miracle and they happen every day, everywhere. You can hear them, you can see them, you can feel them. Most recently, I had one come through me as a violent chill; it was painful. And I knew in that moment that I was to be part of something, probably awful but necessary for the universe to get its work done. Then, awash in peace. The valium effect; but instead, this little valium is from God.

Do you have any parting advice to pass on to your future self?

It is okay to be an alcoholic. It’s rather cool. Just keep on truckin’, baby .. don’t pick up no matter what. No matter what. I would tell myself to remember the day that my liver stopped hurting, because I remember that day and it did stop hurting! And other healing milestones. There are no stupid questions and no shameful events; just missed opportunities to change and to grow. They do circle back, the opportunities, so pay attention for a chance to learn an additional lesson. And stay connected to your like-minded peeps in recovery. That’s what the Fellowship is for.

Kathy B.

I started drinking when I was fourteen. Like with many A.A.s it started out as taboo recreation, however, early on I was an excessive drinker. I didn’t stop at just enough to catch a buzz. I consumed alcohol until there was none left. I didn’t see it as a problem at the time. I thought everyone drank like I did. Even as an adult, when celebrating, the goal was oblivion. I often went to parties without a contribution, and my hosts and friends quickly became tired of the rate at which I consumed alcohol. In my mid 20s I had alienated the grand majority of the people I associated with. My nights were spent at work, and my working hours were spent consuming the most inexpensive, yet most potent alcohol. In my final months before incarceration I can’t recall many sober days. Eventually my alcoholism bled into work hours as well. I know it is cliche, but prison literally saved my life. But even behind chain link and razor wire I found ways to numb out reality, including home brewed hooch. At last, after a UA scare, something snapped in me and I knew I had to do something different or I would die in prison. A friend recommended A.A. I was familiar with twelve step groups, so I gave it a shot. But this isn’t a Cinderella story. I only have six months of total sobriety, but it has been the most rewarding six months of the last decade. I have my higher power and fellow A.A.s to thank for this blessing. I still crave using when things get tough, but I only have to be sober today. I let tomorrow take care of itself.

-Anonymous