I thought about myself all the time.
I am sure David was thinking of more than himself when he flung the stone from his slingshot to kill Goliath. Learn more here.
When I entered Alcoholics Anonymous, I had myself in the center of the universe. I thought about myself all the time. There was no us or we. If it wasn’t I, it was me, my, myself, mine — and I drove myself deep into active alcoholism.
Why? Because, when I was the center of the universe, the world was very small. Teeny, tiny small. I had a small piece of very little. When I wasn’t able to see past the end of my own nose, I was blind to everything else.
Do you know how lonely and terrifying this is? If you are addicted to any mind-altering substance, you absolutely do. Whether you actually know it or not.
Trying to prove that I was the baddest dude in Detroit and waking up in a cold sweat not even knowing what I was afraid of. Not knowing what was wrong. Only that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
For the longest time, I did not know that alcohol was the wrong thing for me. After all, it was my safety net. When I felt bad, it soothed. When I felt good, I celebrated. When I felt nothing, it gave me emotions.
When alcohol was missing from my life for whatever reason, I was lost. Lost in the world of “poor me, poor me, pour me a drink!” I didn’t have problems every time that I drank but, whenever I had a problem, drinking was involved.
Either actually drinking, coming down from a drunk, or planning a drunk. My family feared me. My bosses had me transferred all over the City of Detroit. In, 13 years with the Detroit Police, I worked 3 precincts and 4 bureaus.
I thought that this was just because so many wanted to work with me because of, who knows, my charming personality? Using 20/20 hindsight, I realize that they were just getting rid of a problem by transferring me.
Today, things are completely different. My family loves me. I am retired but many of my former co-workers still keep in touch. I sleep through the night. I serve the homeless and lost at a soup kitchen on the East Side of Flint, MI.
The St Andrews Soup Kitchen serves hot meals and spiritual guidance and love to these area folks in one of the most impoverished, most crime-ridden areas in the nation. They range from the homeless to the eluders of the law.
Alcoholics, addicts, people just down on their luck, streetwalkers, and various present and former felons. All are served the same here.
These homeless and various other lost persons come to St Andrew’s because it is a “safe haven” in the city. There are no problems on the inside. People feel safe and secure and loved while inside.
For some, the coffee, hot meal, clothing, love, and guidance that they get here is the only food they may have for the week, other than what they can scrounge from who knows where. This is probably the only time that they may smile in the week.
I have been blessed to have been asked by Father Jay Gantz, the Rector of St Andrews, to help with the soup kitchen. It is a very important part of my life now.
If you are as lost as I was and are looking for relief, I can promise you that there is hope. There is relief. There is happiness, joy, and freedom. There is a world of people more than willing to help. Just ask! Thank you, God!
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