How Did I Get Here?

While many people were nursing hangovers on January 1st, I was busy snuggling with my grandbaby, watching college football, and enjoying my fourth consecutive hangover-free New Year’s Day. It was the best New Year’s ever. 

In “Once in a Lifetime” by The Talking Heads, David Byrne sang, “And you may ask yourself, ‘Well, how did I get here?’” when the song’s protagonist finds himself behind the wheel of a large automobile, living in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife. As I begin my fifth year of sobriety, now seems like a good time to try to answer the question, “How did I get here?”

On December 31, 2016, I drank martinis from approximately 6:00pm until 3:00 the next morning. I was drunk, to be sure, but I was still able to carry a conversation and walk from my shop to my house, unaided and in the dark. The truth is that I probably could have kept drinking until the sun came up and still remained fairly functional. It would not have been the first time I had stayed up all night drinking. Not by a long shot.

I was a teenager when I first started pulling all-nighters, and incollege my friends and I would frequently drink all night and request songs on Mizzou’s student radio station. On one such occasion, we requested “Tequila Sunrise” by The Eagles and listened to the song while watching the sunrise and sipping Tequila Sunrises. At the time, we thought moments like that were about as good as it gets. The Travis Naughton that existed back then could have never envisioned a Travis Naughton who would one day celebrate four years of sobriety.

How DID I get here?

I was a pretty good kid before I started drinking. My friends and I enjoyed listening to music, watching Star Wars and Monty Python movies, trading Hot Wheels and baseball cards, and riding bikes together. After I started drinking, I turned my back on those “childish” things and stopped spending time with my childhood friends. (Trey and Ferg and the other Conrads—I am truly sorry.)

I won’t blame anyone other than myself for my decades of alcohol abuse, although one particular person was perhaps partly responsible for setting the wheels in motion. I could have said “No!” the first time Rick got me drunk, but I was weak and curious and rebellious (and his parents owned a bar, and wouldn’t you know that the liquor cabinet in their home was extremely well-stocked at all times). 

Looking back on it now, I can see that I was addicted to alcohol from the very beginning. It became a part of my identity. People knew me as a guy you could count on to have a drink (or twenty drinks) with. My beloved wife, who had endured years of my drunken antics, gave me a beer of the month club subscription and a VIP brewery tour as a Christmas present—one week before the date I had picked to quit drinking for good. 

I had decided that New Year’s Eve, 2016 would be my last hurrah. Why? For starters, I realized that I scheduled my entire life around drinking. On most weekdays, I would wait to start drinking until after dinner, thinking that it was okay to ignore my family every evening, as long as everyone had eaten first. I would become irritated if I had obligations or engagements come up that caused me to postpone the first drink of the day. I would silently begrudge my kids if they needed a ride somewhere because I would have to wait to start drinking until after I was done taxiing them around.

I couldn’t grill hamburgers without a beer in my hand. I couldn’t watch sporting events in person or on TV without alcohol. I couldn’t unwind after a long day of teaching without having at least three martinis. I had no idea how to interact with people socially unless drinking was involved. And I missed that innocent kid who liked watching Monty Python movies with his buddies.

I didn’t consume alcohol; it consumed me.

I could have continued drinking and existing, but I wanted to start living again instead. In an alcoholic haze, I had missed out on a lot of the joy that fatherhood and marriage offered. I became determined to not waste any more of my remaining days stumbling around in the fog. 

Four years later, I am as happy as I have ever been in my adult life. I have three incredible kids who make me proud to be their dad every single day. I have an extremely tolerant and patient wife who has supported me every step of the way for some 25 years. And now I have a granddaughter, a little more than three months old, who has become the center of my entire universe. How did I get here, indeed.

If you have been contemplating a difficult decision, one that will drastically improve who you are and how you live your life, I encourage you to take a leap of faith in yourself. Make those changes that you know deep down inside will help you find the peace and happiness you deserve. 

There’s no better time to start than right now.