... and that was my life in December 2002

I often like to reminisce over where I’ve been and where I’ve come from, and the past 20 years have certainly delivered a lot of change.

Twenty years ago I coordinated health, safety, security, and environment management for a major oil company across our vast state.  I was often away to the far-flung reaches up north, east, or down south.  Apart from my family, including daughters 10, 7, and 4 at the time, work was my focus, and escaping on the weekends.

Escaping.  Into my own land of beer, wine, spirits, cigarettes, cigars, and joints.  Such was my life at that point a mix of two opposite realities—work, where I was “on” all the time, and escapism, where I was unreachable—that it was bound to be upended.  But that wasn’t to occur for another 9 months or so.

Back then, there were times when I would surround myself with my substances of choice, after a long week, and simply go into another world where I was anaesthetised there.  There was a process involved.  And it always involved the steps of progressive consumption.  Alcohol, cigarettes, marijuana, food—pretty much in that order.

Alcohol always surrounded these bouts of escapism.  I’d begin with a beer or four, then a nice wine, and then it was choice bourbon.  Because I breathalysed fuel tanker drivers in my day job, I’d occasionally assess how drunk I was as I went by testing the device.  No matter how much I drank, I’d rarely get anywhere near 0.08 blood alcohol content.  I tolerated alcohol far too well.

It was my weekly routine.  If I hadn’t started by the Thursday night, I was definitely “into it” by the Friday night, and I rarely missed a night between Fridays and Sundays—often it was Monday morning driving to work in the company four-wheel drive that had me feel guilty that I was administering an alcohol and other drug program and I was the one who had a problem with alcohol and other substances.

I did feel a hypocrite.  It was a runaway train I was on, and although I would never have chosen for that life to end, it was very close to ending 20 years ago, and deep down inside I wanted power over it to end the control my habits had over me.  Just another nine months and my life would be turned upside down.  Not the way I wanted nor expected.

So next year holds the 20-year anniversary for a number of significant things for me.  The year I gave up drinking.  The year I entered a program of recovery.  The year I first really surrendered to God having been “saved” nearly 13 years earlier.  The year I lost just about everything in terms of what meant most to me.  The year I became a single father.  The year I suddenly came face-to-face with who I wanted to be and finally had the power to live that life.  The year I began a quest to enter ministry.

The life that I had 20-years ago now is the life that I’m thankful that I lived.  I have no real regrets, even if that life represented me feeling trapped in my habits.  If that life hadn’t have changed, I wouldn’t have the life I have now, yet changes to my life then meant pain for so many in my family, myself with perhaps one exception foremost.  So very much pain!  But we survived and our love is deeper because of it.

The older I get the more I enjoy reminiscing on these eras and what life was like.

Life was so very different all those 20 years ago.  Over these next two to three years there will be several 20-year anniversaries to enjoy.  I’m thankful for God’s faithfulness throughout.  I’m thankful that I’m more the authentic man today than I was 20 years ago, but even back then I wanted to be more who I am today.