THE FALLOUT

In the beginning things were great. We enjoyed drinking almost every night and sometimes morning. So much time spent with those that meant the most to me just wiped out by a stupid drink. We began fighting regularly and said many hurtful things. I got so bad I couldn’t function without alcohol. It finally got to a point that she couldn’t take it anymore and decided to leave me. So I did what any alcoholic with a few bucks does, I bought a 30 and attempted to finish every drop. In the process of doing this, all my pent up emotions came flooding forward. I felt like I was in the deepest darkest place of my life. I began to panic with the flood of emotions and reached out to a few friends. Most gave me the polite “Hang in there” or the ever so motivational “You’ll find someone else” but one said he would come over and throw some darts and drink beer with me. He came over and I told him everything that was going on. After a short time he said he had to go but would be right back. After hours of waiting and and no response, my darkness began to grow. The thought of living a life without this woman and her amazing daughter that calls me dad, the only good things aside from my children to come into my life was unbearable. I felt like a deadbeat dad already from traveling all the time. So many missed birthdays, performances, holidays, I was never really there because even when I was, I was probably fucking drunk! I’d had enough. I figured I’d never be happy again and that the kids were so much better off without me. I hit rock bottom. I had had enough of my own selfish bullshit. I was going to end it all. I grabbed my shotgun and loaded up one round. Another friend called me but I don’t remember what was said. Next thing I remember is waking up on the couch to my phone ringing. It was the local police department doing a welfare check on me. They asked me to come outside to talk to them, so I quickly unloaded the shotgun, stuffed the round in the couch, stuck the gun behind the Christmas tree and went outside. The officers were very nice and sympathetic to my situation. I told them everything that was going on and even showed them where the gun was but told them there were no rounds. They ask/told me to go to the ER to get checked out and they would bring me back. So I got some shoes on and jumped in and away we went. While at the hospital I don’t remember too much, but I do remember talking to a therapist. For the first time ever talking to a medical doctor of any kind, I told the truth. I don’t know why at that moment I decided to do that but I am very glad that I did. They decided to admit me and boy was I mad. I was worried about my dogs and I just wanted to go home. I was stripped down and searched before being taken to the psychiatric ward. They gave me a bunch of pills and put me in my room. More like a cell. Four white walls with a “bed” in the center of the room. The mattress can only be described as being sewn and stuffed with straw back when the buffalo roamed. There was a small desk and a chair in the corner and another small desk for dirty laundry. The bathroom was about 8’X8′, had a small sink, a toilet and a push button shower that stood about 4’6″ off the ground and felt like you were showering in a R/V. The next morning I just wanted out. I was very rude and still mostly drunk and just wanted out. Because of me asking to be let out, they requested a psychiatric hold on me for seven days. The second morning I woke up and it just hit me like a ton of bricks, this was my chance. This was my chance to get better and make a better life for myself and my kids. I walked into the doctor that I was just screaming at the day before to let me out and said lets try some meds. I’ve refused meds my whole life and this was the moment I knew they could help. I got a rehab facility lined up that would let me go home for thanksgiving first and called Alta and let her know what I was doing. To my surprise, her and my whole family showed up with signs and Alta’s said “find my ring”. She wanted me back. After all the hurt and pain I put her through she still wanted me back. I am grateful every day that she gave me that second chance and that my friend that called the police gave me a second chance on life. Had it not been for him, I do not believe I would be writing this. I owe him my life. After leaving the hospital and a quick thanksgiving and telling everyone what I was doing, I packed my bags, kissed my family and off I went to REHAB….