Hello,

I read with amazement how profoundly similar your current experience
is to my past. I, too, was caught in a rut of drinking heavily on the
weekend, tapering off as much as possible on Sunday afternoon, so I
could go to work, shaking through the week while drinking as little as
possible so I wouldn't be affected at work, feeling a little bit
better by Friday and firing up again on Friday night while saying to
myself, "I won't drink again like I did last weekend." This happened
every single week for about 3 years. At the end of that period I died.
No, really!

In the last several weeks of my drinking career, I could not even
successfully pull off my familiar rut, one I had maintained for years.
Something changed. Alcohol suddenly took over completely. Let me
explain the sequence of events that led up to my death:

Since college, I was an open drinker. Everyone knew I drank here and
there, and didn't really think much of it. By the way, my family has a
history of alcoholism, and that, along with my religious upbringing
prevented me from touching alcohol until I went away to college. For
many years I drank, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. Gradually my
drinking increased in severity, until one day I found myself in the
hospital for the first time. I was so angry! How could I have been so
weak -- weak like my dad or uncle?

After that experience my dad convinced me to follow in his footsteps
and involve myself in A.A. So I went, not for myself (I determined
later on), but for him and the rest of the family. I went, and I
listened, and I kept on going. I heard what they said, and I knew I
had a drinking problem, but I just wasn't into it deep down. My
performance was great, however! I was still drinking all the while,
from the first day I left the hospital, and I had everyone convinced
that I was sober, and loving my new life in Alcoholics Anonymous.

Yes, I was drinking, and rather successfully I might add. I didn't
really want to drink. I hoped maybe I could become sober through
osmosis, but I wasn't willing to do anything they asked me to do
except show up. Obviously that did nothing to keep me sober, and the
only thing I learned was something in Bill's Story that talks about
him using high-powered sedatives so he could go to work. I thought,
"AHA!!", that's what I need. So, I started taking Sominex to stop
shaking throughout the day, sometimes a dozen or more pills per day.
(Do you see where this is going?)

By now everyone knew I was "sober". I was going to A.A. and even to
group therapy for addictions. I had a great job still as V.P. of
Marketing for a good-sized business, which I never lost -- still have
today. I had no sign of alcoholic trouble, except for another trip to
the hospital two months after the first, but that was just a slip! "I
got it handled now", I said. No, what it was was a SLIP UP in my
appearance. So I had to go from being a closet drinker to a deep,
undercover closet drinker.

I buried myself in work, and since I was being so "sober", I gradually
went to fewer and fewer A.A. meetings. Eventually, I stopped A.A. and
group therapy all together, and by all accounts was on my way to a
successful, happy life, until....
Damn! Hospital again?! Things were going so well! Now I knew I had a
problem I couldn't hide or fix on my own. I became willing to do it
someone else's way, so I went back to my friends at A.A., which by the
way was the best group in the city at the time by all standards, and
started to do the things they told me to do. I actually stayed
sober! ...for a month! ...well, not really sober. I got a cold and
took some NyQuil, and some more NyQuil, on top of some NyQuil. ...but
at least I wasn't drinking, right?

At one month to the day, I was sitting in a Big Book study at my
familiar group, in my favorite chair. I had just received my 30-day
chip, and I was jonesing for a drink. I WANTED TO DRINK!! Furthermore,
I didn't want anyone to stand in my way. Here I sat in a room of 40
other alcoholics, who knew how to stay sober, and I couldn't bring
myself to ask them for help, to tell them I was in trouble, to ask
someone to take me for coffee or sit on my chest or anything. That
night after the meeting, I went straight to the liquor store and drank
a bottle of vodka in the mall parking lot. Then, while Christmas
shopping, I knew I had started it up all over again. During the next 5
weeks, I spent at least 2-3 days per week in detox. One time I figured
that over a 3-month period, I had been physically in the hospital for
28 days. Now some would think that a little odd! Each time I left the
hospital, I was done. I never wanted it again. Each time the cab
pulled back into my driveway, if I didn't have it in the house, I'd
jump in my car and off to the liquor store. Only this time it would be
different...I'd just have a little bit...just a couple of swallows to
knock the edge off...after all, I haven't had a drink in days...

February 2, 1999 -- the Rolling Stones were at McNichols Arena in
Denver. To quote Westword, a local paper, "Description of ticket
prices for the Rolling Stones' Denver appearance: The highest ever for
a rock concert in the city. Unscalped: $50-$250. Scalped: Got a
calculator?" My dad had bought tickets for the entire family for
Christmas. I don't mean Mom, Dad, Brother, and Sister. I mean the
family -- aunts, uncles, cousins, their dogs... Dad called me and said
he was coming over to pick me up for the concert. I said, "I can't go,
I'm too bad." He told me he would take me back to detox, before he
left for the show.
I started getting some personal things together to take to the
hospital, as I had been in the habit of doing for the previous four
weeks. Then my mind told me something very strange. It said, "If
you're going back into detox, you won't be able to drink for several
days. You might as well tie a good one on!" So I nailed about another
quart of vodka before he arrived. When he got there, he led me out to
the minivan he was driving. That's all I remember.

I was told later that I passed out standing up, and hit my head on the
pavement like a pumpkin. He had just had surgery on his wrist, so I'm
not sure how he got me into the seat. I think he had some help from
the neighbor, but I'm not sure. According to him, my lungs stopped on
the way to the hospital. When he got me to the emergency room, they
wheeled me inside on a gurney, where eleven E.R. technicians fought
for my life. My dad asked how he could help. They told him to stay out
of the way, they were trying to bring me back. He thought they meant
back from the negative effects of the alcohol, what with the charcoal
powder forced down my throat, I.V. solutions in my arm, etc... Two
days later they clarified to him that they were bringing me back from
death, for not only had my lungs stopped working, but my heart had
stopped as well.

Save for some brain activity, I was a gonner. I had clocked in with a
blood alcohol level of 0.618. They told me at the time, it was the
highest count the emergency room had taken in where the patient
actually survived. Nothing to be proud of, certainly! So, I had
allowed my disease to progress to the point of death. Eight-and-a-half
years later I'm still here, and still sober. Nary a drop! I've come
from a place of hating alcohol, but not being able to leave it alone,
to completely free of it. I don't want it, and best of all, I don't
miss it.

"So how did I get here?", you may ask. Well, first of all, I knew in
my soul that I was finally done. I became willing to do whatever it
took not to have to drink alcohol again. I surrendered myself entirely
to God while still in the hospital. I felt I had been given a second
chance at life, and it was going to be one devoid of alcohol. I really
didn't know how it would happen or could happen, but I had a feeling
it was going to be okay somehow. I spent 11 days in detox the last
time, not because I needed to detox, but because they wouldn't let me
leave without a life-changing plan in place. The doctor, himself a
recovered alcoholic, wanted to send me to Hazelden in Minnesota, but
together we opted for Harmony Foundation in Estes Park, CO. There I
learned some basic tools to start on my road to recovery. I took their
instruction seriously, by God's grace. Others in my group did not. One
guy passed out drunk and drowned in his hot tub within 3 months after
graduating. Countless others I new from there, all of them in fact,
have relapsed. Many have not returned to sobriety.

What made me different from all the rest? The others who failed after
treatment heard the same words I did, did the same activities, and had
similar experiences to mine. Having an A.A. sponsor didn't get me
sober. Going to A.A. meetings didn't get me sober. Going to church
didn't either. I had a great relationship with God, I thought. I was
raised in the church, went to church most weeks (drank on the way to
and from), and prayed all the time. I saw God's influence on my life
and the lives of those around me rather frequently. While I was
drinking, I remember weeping for joy at the loving relationship I had
found with my Creator, but I was still drinking.

The only thing that made the difference in my life was the 12 Steps of
Alcoholics Anonymous as outlined in the Big Book, and as guided by my
sponsor. PERIOD!! Not that the 12 Steps themselves got me sober, but
for me they were a necessary path to finding the special connection
with God as it relates to my alcoholism. It is God that stands in the
way between me and a first drink. I never had that before. I had God,
but I didn't know He could keep me sober until I experienced the 12
Steps. For years, I read lightly through the 4th Chapter of the Big
Book, called "We Agnostics". I didn't see how it applied to me,
because I believed in God. In fact, I had multiple experiences of His
influence in my life that convinced me early on. What I didn't know is
that I was agnostic when it came to booze. I didn't know how to
surrender that part to Him. I couldn't get out of my own way. I wasn't
willing to surrender completely to the program, and learn how to do it
someone else's way -- someone else who had been sober a long time and
was willing to show me how.

I don't know what more I might be able to do to help you personally. I
have spent a lot of time writing this response, in the hopes that
something will spark for you. I hope it does, but if not, at least I
have had to reread what I wrote. Your experience has helped me today,
and I hope I can be of help to you.

Please remember, you are going to see a lot of crap in A.A. There are
a lot of people with their heads up their asses. However, the
organization as a whole has a lot to offer. Find a group that's not
carrying a watered-down message, but make sure they're not Step Nazis
either. Find a group that's serious about staying sober, but can laugh
and have fun. Find a group that's intense on doing Stepwork, but are
easy-going. Find a group that are dedicated to seeking God, but
recognize and admit their own faults and defects of character.

An A.A. group like this will have someone, perhaps several, in there
who has something you want. He will be poised, confident, and know a
lot about alcoholism. He will have a connection to God you will yearn
for. He will have been sober awhile. You may not have anything in
common, but you will respect him for the way he treats those around
him. Ask him to be your sponsor, ask him to read the first 164 pages
of the Big Book with you and guide you through the Steps. Make certain
he has done them that way himself, after all, he can't give something
to you he himself does not possess.

Commit yourself to doing all 12 Steps thoroughly and in succession. If
you can't make that commitment, then do none at all. Noone wants to
know what it's like to get stuck half way. They are far too powerful.
The Steps are not magic, they are an experience. Half an experience is
half of nothing, or worse. Don't forget this! When you complete the
Steps, you will come out the other side completely changed. It's
guaranteed to work if you dedicate yourself to it. You will have a
working knowledge of yourself. You will understand why it is that you
feel compelled to drink, even when you don't want to. You will
understand how you relate to the world, and how you can feel
comfortable in most situations without a drink. You will have the
opportunity to make right the things from your past that secretly
haunt you every day. A collection of sludge you are probably not even
aware of. Most importantly, you will learn what God means in your
life, and you can develop a relationship with Him that you have never
before experienced, regardless of your upbringing or current
connection with Him. Believe me, I know, I've been there!

Afterwards, you will have the opportunity to reach out to others -- to
help other alcoholics in need. Just as I am doing with you. As I
mentioned, regardless of the outcome, this is what I need for my
program today. This is what helps keep me connected to God, and He is
what keeps me sober. He blesses me as I make good decisions that lead
to positive outcomes.

Please let me know if you have questions. I wish you all the best.
Getting sober is possible if you want it badly enough, and can let
others help you.

Good luck and God be with you,

Mike Turner