DREAM WARRIORS ADDICTION BOOK REVIEW

The street lights  shimmering off the tarmac rushed towards me as I crumpled into unconsciosness My semicomatse head bouncing off the granite curbstones felt like a gentle caress. Blackout, oblivion was where my advanced alcoholism always took me. The promise of wonderous adventure filled illusions had long since disappeared.The idea that I could handle alcohol or drugs had seemed irrelevant the inevitability of my condition overcame me I dimmely felt hands rifleing threw my pockets. Hopelessly drunk I was incapable of doing anything even my bodily functions now took care of themselves. Death whatever that was would have been welcomed as yet another phase of insane bingeing ran its course.By know I was starting to understand that once I drank I had no control over the outcome.All the excuses had been used up and I was in utter bewilderment as to why my longtime friend alcohol had turned on me.Where had my friends disappeared to and the conviviality of there happy company.

The answer crashed into my befuddled brain I had used up all there excuses as well as mine and had become the unfunny court jester who continuosly embarrassed them with drunken brawling heaping abuse onto those closest to me as the full reality of my condition became apparent to them all.The witty raconteaur had become the stinking drunk,bloated vomiting and unfunny.I now sort out dark places where people like me sort the company of like minded other.The illegal blues clubs and shebeens the drinking dens for prostitutes and criminals.I could not resist the call to visit once I had,had that first drink.It did not matter what it was for I had long since recognised that if it was a weak shandy or a double whisky the results would be exactly the same.It came as no surprise to be lying in the gutter blacked out.

What did come as a surprise to be sitting in the back of a taxicab.What had happened had I met with a good Samaritan for they where a rareity in this area of dockland.I was over the years to try to attempt to rationalise the answer out.Had some golden lady of the night rescued me doubtful but possible or a kindly taxi driver even more improbable.Yet here I was being dropped off outside my front door in a small suburban village.My eyes fearfully scanned the street for what had become the inevitable results of my binges a police car.I thanked the taxi driver and searched for my keys.No police car but now the guilt and remorse the terrible psychical withdrawal from alcohol gripped my being. I must have another drink as my skin started crawling and the stomach wrenching vomit reflex took hold.

It was at this time I recognised that all the lights were on yet there was no one in the house.I stopped I glanced at the red flock wallpaper with the glistening remains of the whisky glass catching the evidential reflection of the lights.Yes this was the right house.There was the drinks cupboard it was open nothing remained. Panic,fear my head whirled a neon red sign shown in my head NO DRINK.No drink nothing.I heard a car drive up my car, my wife.I needed to get what was left of the brain into gear.I wracked my brain for a solution something that would work something that would give one more drink anything.She was on the path give me an idea any idea nothing. The withdrawls were kicking in the shakeing was starting with the first tremors my fingers twitched as the withdrawls started.Its just a hangover.You used the magic word that would start the withdrawl HANGOVER. I didn’t do hangovers anymore I just got sick very sick very quickly.How the hell was I to get a drink I must have a drink.

The sight of my long suffering wife and the pain that showed her face.The shame and guilt I felt drove me into paroxysm of thoughts a committee sat down and debated all the excuses and denials blame people I had used to get me of the hook.Nothing, and yet there was a glimmer deep down in the recesses of my mind .Lurked one excuse I had never used one dark thought, one excuse not used.Now was the time  yet there was another voice that told me not to use this one. I don’t really know but in the befuddled state I was in I thought more people had arrived. I had fears that I had acted inopreoriewtly with them previously perhaps they were my wifes parents.I needed that one excuse for it to work I needed a commercial telephone book. I flicked threw the pages my confused brain addled at the inappropriate usage it needed sleep, another drink or a strangers bed. Yes there it said it something to do with alcoholics, a safe haven anywhere all I needed was another drink anything. When would someone answer it rang and rang. The phone was answered by a lady I explained cryptically that I might have a drinking problem.No , she explained you’ve rung ALANON you need AA please ring this number. In my minds eye I can see the sceptical looks from the group of people that surrounded my phone or perhaps they were never there my withdrawls often gave me illusions usually of shadows but who knows.To me they were real.I needed to get away escape link my wounds like the wounded beast I felt myself to be.I rang the new number it was answered and the person on the other end had a rich deep calming voice.Do you want to stop.I looked at my real or imagined audience.Yes I said.Right I will be with you shortly.What did he mean with me shortly.Ah well I thought someone else to hide behind that was an advantage the chance for another drink..My mind was completely warped around the obsession to drink it filled every waking minute.

The doorbell rang.Hello my names Bill and I am an alcoholic. My first recollections of Bill were his description was correct he had a big brandy nose, yet he was kind a smile creased his face.I remember little of what we talked about except he asked me if I felt inferior.I said I did.He said right we are off to our first AA meeting.Just like that. I had been twelth stepped.I remember little of our trip the the local asylum because that’s where AA held it meetings. I followed Bill along the pea green corridors.A fire burnt in the grate most people were smileing.No one had smiled at me for a long trime some I recognised from my Rugby days.the rugby club had been a watering hole back when drinking had been fun. I listened to there stories and then talked telling them how different my story was and using my plethora of lies and ralionalisations which I had come to believe was my truth to explain why my case was special and different.I explained that I didn’t drink like them I had occasional binges and could stop for long periods.A total lie I had found many months ago the morning drink cure and topped up daily.perhaps I chose to ignore this fact.I was told in fact I was already projecting my next drink.I acceptedthat . Then someone said something which was to change my life. It was simple profound. You need not have another drink again.This one simple fact was to be the rock on which my sobriety was to be built.You need never have another drink again from this date forewords.