Thought I would take a break from transcribing last years journal to talk about the situation that brought me to homelessness, Buddhism, and A.A. . It was a bumpy transition as you may have realized by now.
It all started the second week of December 2011.
It was a Thursday and I was sitting in a booth in a coffee shop downtown reading 'The Island Of Lost Maps' before my shift at the local Taco Johns started. My job, which I hated, mostly consisted of slinging taco's for drunk college students. It was amusing sometimes and pretty soul crushing the rest of the time.
As I sat reading my book I noticed the lights turning on at the Irish bar across the street.. and I found myself thinking...'Why not, I've got 3 hours before I have to be to work'. So I packed up, moved across the street and ordered a beer, and then another, and another.Approximately 25 minutes later after my 4th beer I went outside to smoke a cigarette.
While I was standing there killing my lungs I noticed two familiar figures walking out of the restaurant across the street. I almost immediately recognized them as being from my hometown, I even remembered their name. I flagged them down and before too long we were all back inside doing shots and talking about how much our hometown sucks.
Looking up from the bar I realized that I was gonna be late for work, I excused myself and left the bar. The churning of the walk and the copious amounts of beer and liquor I had consumed made me unfit to work, though it took my boss a while to notice this fact, amidst the traffic of college students and drunk townies. My boss called another worker and told me I had to leave.
My brilliant solution to dealing with my hard feelings about this... was to go out and drink away my last 80$ dollars at the bar down the street. There I ran into a co-worker who was pursuing the same level of intoxication as myself.
Sometime before I left the bar I blacked out. So this part of the story was actually told to me by my co-worker. I drank until bar close then followed my friend to an afterbar party. I barely remember any of this part of the night, but what I do remember is the host of the party holding a giant bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and an equally giant bottle of Jagermeister in the other, and telling me that I could have as much as I wanted of either.
My friend told me that I had somewhere in the vicinity of 6 shots from both bottles.
" You have to leave... or go to sleep." I remember the host telling me. I opted to leave.
On my way out my friend leaned out in the hall to say goodbye, I don't remember this but he later told me that I left that afterbar party and got pulled into another down the hallway by some drunk women. Not sure what happened after I got to the second bar, but I woke up in the emergency room a few hours later with an AODA counselor asking me questions about my drinking.
"I was just having a good time." I mumbled, still quite drunk.
" Yes well, most people's good times don't include drinking until their heart stops.."
After some more prodding and a 'free' breakfast one of the attendants found me some clothes from the lost and found and I was sent on my way. The stumble home was quite numbing... both from the weather and the situation. Arriving at the apartment my roommate, also my boss, informed me that I was fired.
A few weeks later he kicked me out of the apartment because I couldn't pay the rent. After that I lived with an old friend for two months, she got me on my feet, helped me get a storage unit, set up a plasma donation schedule, and got me to my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. After that I started staying at the local homeless shelter. Most days consisted of looking for work, going to meetings and drinking coffee. Somewhere in there I became a Buddhist and started researching the different traditions, looking for the best fit.
Today I have a slight income, an apartment, and I am on schedule to attend a Technical school in the fall. Ironically enough everything in my life seems to have gotten better as a result of my homelessness. I just wanted to drink until I was homeless... who says dreams don't come true?
It all started the second week of December 2011.
It was a Thursday and I was sitting in a booth in a coffee shop downtown reading 'The Island Of Lost Maps' before my shift at the local Taco Johns started. My job, which I hated, mostly consisted of slinging taco's for drunk college students. It was amusing sometimes and pretty soul crushing the rest of the time.
As I sat reading my book I noticed the lights turning on at the Irish bar across the street.. and I found myself thinking...'Why not, I've got 3 hours before I have to be to work'. So I packed up, moved across the street and ordered a beer, and then another, and another.Approximately 25 minutes later after my 4th beer I went outside to smoke a cigarette.
While I was standing there killing my lungs I noticed two familiar figures walking out of the restaurant across the street. I almost immediately recognized them as being from my hometown, I even remembered their name. I flagged them down and before too long we were all back inside doing shots and talking about how much our hometown sucks.
Looking up from the bar I realized that I was gonna be late for work, I excused myself and left the bar. The churning of the walk and the copious amounts of beer and liquor I had consumed made me unfit to work, though it took my boss a while to notice this fact, amidst the traffic of college students and drunk townies. My boss called another worker and told me I had to leave.
My brilliant solution to dealing with my hard feelings about this... was to go out and drink away my last 80$ dollars at the bar down the street. There I ran into a co-worker who was pursuing the same level of intoxication as myself.
Sometime before I left the bar I blacked out. So this part of the story was actually told to me by my co-worker. I drank until bar close then followed my friend to an afterbar party. I barely remember any of this part of the night, but what I do remember is the host of the party holding a giant bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and an equally giant bottle of Jagermeister in the other, and telling me that I could have as much as I wanted of either.
My friend told me that I had somewhere in the vicinity of 6 shots from both bottles.
" You have to leave... or go to sleep." I remember the host telling me. I opted to leave.
On my way out my friend leaned out in the hall to say goodbye, I don't remember this but he later told me that I left that afterbar party and got pulled into another down the hallway by some drunk women. Not sure what happened after I got to the second bar, but I woke up in the emergency room a few hours later with an AODA counselor asking me questions about my drinking.
"I was just having a good time." I mumbled, still quite drunk.
" Yes well, most people's good times don't include drinking until their heart stops.."
After some more prodding and a 'free' breakfast one of the attendants found me some clothes from the lost and found and I was sent on my way. The stumble home was quite numbing... both from the weather and the situation. Arriving at the apartment my roommate, also my boss, informed me that I was fired.
A few weeks later he kicked me out of the apartment because I couldn't pay the rent. After that I lived with an old friend for two months, she got me on my feet, helped me get a storage unit, set up a plasma donation schedule, and got me to my first meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. After that I started staying at the local homeless shelter. Most days consisted of looking for work, going to meetings and drinking coffee. Somewhere in there I became a Buddhist and started researching the different traditions, looking for the best fit.
Today I have a slight income, an apartment, and I am on schedule to attend a Technical school in the fall. Ironically enough everything in my life seems to have gotten better as a result of my homelessness. I just wanted to drink until I was homeless... who says dreams don't come true?
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