Mark A. Easter
In my all-time favorite Led Zeppelin song, "Ten Years Gone," Robert Plant laments about lost love. I thought quite a bit about whether or not to tell this story. But I am, in the hopes that it helps or encourages someone…because it's a story of Ten Years Gained….
In May of 2014, a hard-working attorney approaching 50 went drinking with a friend on a Friday night. From one bar to another. The brakes were completely off. Why? The disappointment of a recently failed relationship? The challenge of being a single dad to a teenager? The pressure of managing a heavy caseload and very large transportation project? The competitive pressure of law firm life? Any or all of those reasons most likely, but looking back, it probably didn't matter. He was going to get his drink on. Because that's what he was used to. That was his structure. His ace in the hole. His cave of comfort. Hammer it out. Worry about how you get home later. Worry about your hangover tomorrow. Worry about who you hurt…well come on, who are you hurting?
Most nights it turned out okay. Sure, maybe he was a little slow the next day. Sure, he'd cringe for a moment: "uh oh, I did it again…what if"? But he made it home. He was good. Onto the next day's battle. Only this night in May 2014 turned out different. This time he didn't wake up to an alarm clock. He awoke to the sound of a saw. A fireman's saw, removing him from the car he had totaled. He didn't spend this weekend at home watching sports and nursing a hangover or the "hair of the dog." He spent this weekend in the County hospital.
But by Sunday he was home. Still had his driver's license. No arrest. Now what? What happens next? He calls his judge friend…a former deputy DA…seeking "insider knowledge." But this judge friend…a real friend…knows that sometimes things just have to be said. He'd seen the signs. The increasing abuse. The increasing dependence. The inability to have just one drink…ever. So rather than insider court intel, this friend offered the simple and direct, "Hey pal, I've known you many years, I think it's time for your drinking days to be over."
And in that moment, I knew Larry was right. I had to stop. I had legal, moral, physical, financial, relational, and familial reasons compelling me to stop. But how? How do I overcome patterns, urges, habits, compulsions? Overnight? I didn't know. All I knew is that I just had to figure out how to live without alcohol. One day at a time. I initially felt the need to maintain the ritual…just without the alcohol. So that first 30-60 days there were lots of mixed NON-alcoholic drinks…Markaritas instead of margaritas, as one friend put it.
But soon came help. I found people to talk to. In a few weeks I crossed paths with Jim Heiting, as I tried to make a quick exit from a Civil Bench-Bar Meeting. He saw the cuts still visible on my forehead. He figured it out. And soon thereafter I was attending meetings of The Other Bar…and realizing that I wasn't unique, I wasn't alone, and my life wasn't over. I had a chance to meet and hear from amazing people like Jim, Greg Dorst, and Mike Razo. But I also knew that a new life of sobriety was going to take work, patience, and humility. An uphill battle lay before me. And it was not a question of "getting my life back" (because I didn't really want that life back), it was about growing to accept whatever life threw at me that day, week, or month.
Was it a challenge and was it sometimes frustrating? Yes. Were there consequences? Yes. And not all at once…some maestro behind the scenes composed a well-orchestrated chronology that would last almost 3 years…the summons from the DA, a fine, the loss of my driving privileges, an ankle bracelet, a "book and release" day in jail, endless DUI classes, countless taxis and UBERs, State Bar Prosecution, the blower ignition device, public reproval, restitution payments, court costs…on and on. And yet, experiencing those inconveniences, expenses, deprivations, and humiliations was absolutely vital to my progress and recovery. I needed the reminder of what I had done, how out of control I had lived, and that I could not..go back…ever.
And yet, there were many blessings. Absence of regret in the morning. Absence of worry about how I'll get home. Way better health and fitness. Complete support and mercy from my family and my firm. Meeting other people who struggled like I did. The relief of conceding where I am powerless. Learning humility from depending on others for rides, references, or just a listening ear. Being able to focus on others at social settings; alcoholism is like this high maintenance plus-one you have to bring with you everywhere: "What is he/she going to do tonight? Who is he/she going to offend? Does he/she need another drink? Is he/she hungry? Has he/she had enough? How is he/she getting home?" Freaking exhausting. Good riddance. I don't miss him/her.
And taking stock in those blessings and being able to talk about them in places like The Other Bar, was huge. Treating each of those events that went better sober as monument stones to the blessings of sobriety. To the miracle. I know who I was and how I lived before. I know that I didn't want to keep living like that. And yet, I was. Until God blessed me with the miracle of sobriety. Ten years gained, not ten more years gone. Yes, I had to put in the time, and have the commitment, and "stick to it." But the fact that I did that was a miracle, and so were the countless people put in my life who helped me get there.
So…if any of this story resonates with someone out there, and they are struggling, let me just say that you can start getting help today. Your Day One new beginning could be today. It doesn't have to come after getting pulled from your wrecked Infiniti at 2 a.m., and getting ambulanced to the hospital for a weekend of blood tests, X-Rays, and visits from police officers and scared and sad family members. And it certainly doesn't have to come from even WORSE. If you are interested in more information about The Other Bar and its meeting schedule, feel free to contact me at mark.easter@bbklaw.com.
Mark A. Easter is the president of the RCBA, a partner at Best Best & Krieger LLC, and has been residing and practicing law in Riverside since 1989.
