Day 84 - The 20 Minute Story of My Life

Day 84 – The 20 Minute Story of My Life

Blog #5

This week I was asked to lead a recovery meeting — which basically means telling my entire life story in about twenty minutes. Imagine standing in front of close to 100 strangers and trying to condense thirty-plus years of pain, lessons, and hope into a single talk. No pressure, right?

So, I’ve been reflecting on where it all began…

Falling in Love at Thirteen

I was thirteen years old when I met the love of my life. Not a girl, not a crush, not even a human being.

Her name was alcohol.

It started one summer night when a couple of my neighborhood buddies and I decided to steal a half-gallon of Idaho Silver Vodka from my friend’s mom. We snuck out around midnight, and one by one, we took turns chugging that awful clear liquid.

The first swig hit me like gasoline — and my stomach agreed, because I promptly threw it back up. But something strange happened after a few more attempts.

A warmth spread from my chest down to my stomach, and it felt like God Himself was wrapping me in the most heavenly hug I had ever experienced. It was more than euphoria. It was arrival.

In that moment, alcohol became my solution. My shield. My partner. My new identity.

The Broken Pieces Before the Bottle

Looking back now, I can see why alcohol had such a grip on me from the very beginning. At that time in my life, I was missing some very basic human needs.

Psychologist Abraham Maslow described these in his Hierarchy of Needs (1943), a framework still used today in psychology and leadership studies. At the bottom are things like food, shelter, and safety. As those are met, we crave belonging, love, esteem, and eventually, self-actualization — the fulfillment of our true potential.

At thirteen, my “safety” and “love and belonging” buckets were bone dry.

My seventh-grade year had been a nightmare. Most of my closest friends went to the other middle school in town, and I was left to start over. On day one, I learned a harsh lesson: the only kid I’d ever gotten into a fight with happened to be the little brother of the most popular ninth grader — who also happened to run with the jocks and an up-and-coming gang.

That year was filled with hallways where I felt hunted. Fights on the blacktop. Fear in my stomach every time I saw that group of boys. I knew I wasn’t invincible anymore.

My only escape was my first girlfriend. She gave me the things I was missing: love, belonging, acceptance. For a while, she was my lifeline. But, being twelve and foolish, I sabotaged that too.

I lied. I cheated. I got caught. And one night at a church dance, I watched her dump me in front of everyone and then dance with other boys while I stood on the sidelines like a fool.

That was the night my heart shattered for the first time.

Darkness and Desperation

Back then, no one talked about mental health. Especially not for boys. The message everywhere — from school to family to movies to rap music — was the same: Toughen up. Be a man. Don’t cry. Don’t feel.

But the truth was, I was crumbling. I battled depression and anxiety I didn’t have words for. I felt alone, hopeless, worthless.

I remember stealing a pistol from my dad’s gun cabinet one night. Loading the chamber. Putting it to my temple. Wanting more than anything to pull the trigger.

I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe fear of eternal consequences. Maybe some shred of hope I didn’t even recognize at the time. But I survived that moment.

And then, I met her — alcohol.

She swept me off my feet in the middle of all that pain. She gave me courage, numbness, belonging. From that first drunken night, I was hooked. I drank daily. And I worshiped her for the next thirty years.

Understanding the Hook

Research shows that genetics plays a huge role in addiction. According to the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA), children of alcoholics are about four times more likely to develop alcohol dependence than those without a family history.

Unfortunately for me, both of my grandfathers were alcoholics. So the hook was in me long before I ever took that first drink.

Alcohol became my medicine. My shield against fear. My way to sleep. My way to belong. And, eventually, my prison.

84 Days Without Her

Fast forward to today — I’m 84 days sober.

It’s not my first attempt, but it’s the most serious one yet. Over the past three years, I’ve been clawing my way toward recovery, sometimes slipping, sometimes falling, but always learning. Each slip taught me something new about myself — usually that I wasn’t desperate or willing enough yet.

Today, I’m desperate. Today, I’m willing.

My recovery isn’t just about meetings or working the 12 steps (though those are crucial). It’s also about prayer, scripture study, exercise, service, human connection, time with my family, and building a daily routine that keeps me grounded. Routine saved me when I was behind prison walls, and routine is saving me now.

I’m rebuilding my confidence, facing the demons that used to drive me to drink, and slowly learning to love myself in ways I never thought possible.

Why I Share This

When I stand up this week to give that 20-minute version of my life, I’ll be sharing it with close to 100 people who may see themselves in my story.

Maybe you see yourself here, too.

Addiction looks different for everyone, but at its core, it’s about trying to fill an empty space. For me, that space was love, safety, and belonging. Alcohol filled it — until it nearly destroyed me.

If you’re walking a similar road, I want you to know: you’re not alone. There’s hope. There’s another way forward.

If you’d like to be added to my email list — which includes notifications when new blog posts go live as well as my newsletter on insightful business management tools — you can request to be added at scott@stconsultingllc.org.

And if you’re looking for another way to explore recovery through story, check out my novel, The First Thirty Days — a fictional journey into the struggle and hope of early sobriety. It’s available on Amazon here: The First Thirty Days.

📚 References & Resources

• Maslow, A. H. (1943). A Theory of Human Motivation. Psychological Review, 50(4), 370–396.

• National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism. (n.d.). Alcohol Use Disorder: A Comparison Between DSM–IV and DSM–5. NIAAA.gov