Growing up in an alcoholic family, there are only so many ways that children express themselves in an effort to stand out in a situation where alcohol gets the lion’s share of the attention. For the first 21 years or so of my life, my way of standing out was getting good grades and being an otherwise “goody-two-shoes”. I was always afraid of alcohol because I’d seen firsthand the evil that can stem from its reckless use. Brothers stabbing brothers, extended family gatherings ending with guns drawn, one night of shots fired with the intent to kill, and things like infidelity as spouses go outside of the tight-knit family unit to get the attention that alcohol was getting at home.
The Things You Learn in an Alcohol Assessment Class
80 – that’s the average number of times a drunk driver drives under the influence before finally being arrested. For me, over an 8-year time frame between the ages of 21-29, I’d say my number was much higher than average – likely double or triple that amount. At that point in my life, when it came to personal growth and stoking the right fire, I was failing miserably. When you reach a certain point with alcoholism, complete moments of time disappear. You might remember getting in your car or truck, maybe even pulling back into the driveway in the wee hours of the morning. All the same, you might even remember headlights here, a stop sign there. But, for the most part, your memory is just a blur to all colors black & blue. I remember waking up the morning after a binge and being so ashamed, trying to recall anything ignorant I might have said or done the night before.
June 10th, 2011 was different. I woke up on a 3″ thick cot laying on the floor of the Moore County jail. As usual, there were bits and pieces of the day before that I didn’t remember. This time, though, I remembered the important parts. I remembered making the conscience decision to get in my truck and leave the bar in Southern Pines, the wide turn after crossing the tracks, and the blue lights in the rear view. I remembered how belligerent and disrespectful I was to the officers at the scene. When I should have been at home with my precious little girl or spending time with my wonderful nephews, I was wasting time in all of the wrong places and on all of the wrong people. Open book or not, the fire within me was all but dying out, and my ability to help anyone, including myself, was dying with it.
There’s Always Hope
Today, nearly 10 years later, I’m finally comfortable enough to share this story. For a long time I feared the judgement of others, especially those I’ve come to love, respect, and work for. At the same time, there are many people in this world who are aimlessly wandering down a similarly dark trail. This story is for those people – There’s always hope. For 5 more years after that fateful date with a concrete bottom, I’d continue to drink until one day in 2016 when I made the decision to quit for good. Kim might have given our marriage a chance had I decided otherwise but, knowing that drinking would eventually put a strain on our relationship, I asked myself one question – had alcohol ever done anything good for me? If I could come up with one good answer, I’d allow myself to continue. I couldn’t come up with one good thing.
Hunt2Prove?
Through the years, Chance and others have asked me about “hunt2prove” – What does it mean? Where did it come from? Although I can’t really tell you the entire line of thought I may have had when deciding on a name for this “blog”, I’m certain that, at least partially, it stems from my hunt to prove to myself and others that I could change, that I could take something terrible and turn it into something good.
I’ll stop short of saying that I’m the Father, Husband, Hunter, or Steward that I pray to become. There’s always room for improvement – something new to learn and some good person or some good book to learn it from.
At the end of the day, life can be about one of two things – The moments you miss or the moments you make. It’s much more fulfilling to make more moments than you miss.
To the officers of that fateful night – if by some chance this writing finds its way to you – Thank you. Chances are you probably saved my life and that of others. I’d be more than thrilled if we were able to hit the deer or turkey woods together some day, my treat of course!
To those that have helped me hunt down this much better version of myself over the last 10 years – Family, Friends, Landowners, Our Lord Above – Thank you – My Wife; my Children – Savanna, Liam, Raylan; my Folks, my hardworking sister; my nephews Ashton, Jordan, & Matthew; My Mom and Pop 2; Robert P; Mr. & Mrs. C; Ty P; Glenn G; Chad A & Family; Greg W & Family; E. & F. Richardson & Family; Matt F and K.F; C.Curnutte; M. Petersen; D. Howe; the Homme Family; L. Myrick & Family; the Pierce Family; R & C G.; D. Bunce; D. Allison; Mr. & Mrs. J; the Muse and Fleischman Family; Rocket Dog; and many others. Without you, I might not have learned the things I’ve learned; found the inspirations that I’ve found; had the opportunities that I’ve had; or begun living the life that I’ve always wanted to live. From the opportunities to manage; to cultivate and burn into existence some of the best habitat in our area for deer, turkey, and other wild things, and for all of the other contributions you’ve all made to my life – I am grateful.
To anyone who might ever find themselves in such a trying situation as my own, I’d be happy to help if I can. Whether a drive home when you need it, or just a conversation when there’s no one else to talk to.
To my Mom & Dad – please don’t read this with the inkling that I somehow blame you and/or your own personal struggles for the bad decisions I made in my 20s. Not even close! The fact is, without your love, I probably wouldn’t be here today, an open book – the fire within me burning stronger and brighter than it ever has – I love you!
