Our Brother Was So Awesome God Made Him an Angel v2.0

'Leave a mark they can't erase, neither space nor time

So when the Director yells cut, I'll be fine. I'm forever young'

It was a cool and dreary Sunday afternoon in April 2012 when my phone rang around 3pm. It was my Dad. I couldn't understand him. He was hysterical. All I managed to piece together was, "your brother...he's gone." I can't tell you details of the following hours or even days or weeks, because honestly, it's all very foggy. 

It's been two years since that day and the fog has cleared.  And while the pain never leaves our hearts...we have learned to make it part of our life--to embrace it and rebuild our lives around it.  

There is no blog post or expression of words that will every convey what our hearts have felt the past two years with the loss of our brother. I don't understand how the past two years have been the worst and best years of my life but I think that is just one of the many gifts Will has left us with. 

I like to think that God visited Will on the morning of April 22, 2012 and showed him two ways of life for the future of our family. 

One...he would stay on earth and nothing would change. In fact, things would continue to get worse...as addiction does. 

Or two...he would leave us here on earth to live in Heaven and it would start a domino effect for so many positive changes in the lives of everyone he loved. He would be free from the bondage of self and have new life. I would get sober. Some of his friends would get sober.Our family would grow closer and our faith would grow stronger. We would have a new outlook on life. And the list goes on...

Will wouldn't have had to give it a second thought because that's just how he was.

So, the way I see it...Will takes God's hand and quietly leaves. He smiles down with every positive influence his death has had. He probably sees more than we are even aware. 

My three year old nephew told me the other day that Uncle Will visits him in his dreams. When I asked what he says to him, he says they pray together. I asked if he looked like he remembered and he says, "Nooooooo, He's an angel now. He has wings." Like, duh, Aunt Al. 

So today, that is how I think of him. Our guardian angle looking down over all of us. 

It's a HAPPY First Birthday for It's a Lush Life

I used to wake up every morning hungover and would sit in front of my vanity to get ready for work. For a long time I did not recognize the person looking back at me. Like my disease of alcoholism, my personal hatred for myself was a progressive process. I went from looking in the mirror and not being happy with what I saw to not knowing who I was and eventually hating the person looking back at me. 

Somewhere along the way I came across the scripture Jeremiah 29:11 and had written it on a sticky note and stuck it on the bottom left corner of my mirror.

"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

I would read it every morning. For the most part, it was the only connection to God I had during that time. But for whatever reason, I believed it. Or at least I wanted to believe it. Even when I hated Him, it gave me hope for my future. 

What I didn't realize is that I was leading a life of self will run riot. I had many failed attempts at changing people, places and things in an effort to make me happy. Problem with that...I was the problem. So, no matter where I moved to, who I was in a relationship with, or what great job I had--nothing made me happy inside. I thought if I moved to San Francisco then life would be better. If I got a certain job then I would be happy. If I dated someone really successful then I'd feel complete. Wrong, wrong and wrong. 

Grass was always greener on the other side for me. I was never content with anything I had. I always wanted more. More of anything. More of everything. More alcohol, more guys, more things, more money. It didn't matter--I wanted more of whatever it was. 

What I didn't realize at the time was that nothing was going to make me happy until I was happy with myself. Seems pretty obvious, right? Well...not for me. I thought I was happy--I mean, kind of. My life on the outside suggested I was. I am sure most people thought I had it made.  But I was miserable because I wasn't being honest with myself. 

Today, I can look at my life and realize that a self centered life run on self will is a miserable way to live. Making everything about me is a miserable way to live. Thinking that your self worth lies within material things is a miserable way to live. Placing your happiness in other people is a miserable way to live.

Being sober allows me to be more like the person God intended me to be. Today, I am happy because I am free from the bondage of self. I am happy because I like who I am becoming. I am happy because I practice gratitude. I am happy because I know it's not all about me. 

It's a Lush Life's turned one year old on Friday! I posted my first blog post, "Hi, my name is Allison. I'm an Alcoholic," on March 29th 2013. And man...what a year it has been! I started my blog as a living amends to my brother. For a long time, I didn't want the pain to end after losing him because it was the only thing I had left of him. Today, he is a part of everything I do. I am able to honor his memory by being the big sister to others that I wish I could have been to him before he died. 

This past year, I have had the privilege to watch several close friends come to terms with their own addictions and choose recovery. My blog is now featured on the Huffington Post...which reaches millions of people daily. I have had the honor of receiving and answering hundreds of emails from people across the world who have reached out about their own struggles with addiction. 

This past week I had the honor of being interviewed by our local ABC news station, WSOCTV, and they asked me what my goal for It's a Lush Life was. I was speechless. I didn't have a goal...I mean, not really. I wake up each morning and ask God to let me be of service to those suffering most from the disease of alcoholism/addiction and I never know what they is going to entail. 

I'd say my first year blogging has been pretty successful in terms of reaching the masses. And, if I ask myself why...the answer is simple. It's not about me. It's about being of service to others. It's about losing the shame and coming clean with who I am, what I've done and who I have become so people know they aren't alone in their own struggles. 

By the grace of God, I am using my pain for a purpose. I have been able to take my mess and make it my message to the world. And this has become my passion--my purpose. 

We wake up each morning with the gift of today. So, if I can say that I have made just one person's day better at the end of each day--that's my goal. Being part of a movement to remove the shame and stigma associated with alcoholics and addicts--that's my goal. To share my experience, strength and hope with those still suffering from the disease of alcoholism/addiction--that's my goal. 

Thank you to each and every one of you who has followed along with me through this journey. I am so excited to see what will happen in the years to come! 

I thank you all from the very bottom of my sober heart! 

A Long Overdue Thank You

BEST brother-in-law EVER

Towards the end of active addiction, I didn't want to listen to what anyone had to say about my drinking. 

"I'm fine." "Leave me alone."

These were probably the two most common statements my family heard from me for months anytime anyone tried to approach my drinking and their concern for me. 

I was spending a lot of time at my parents house after my brother died and I would wake up morning after morning not remembering going  to bed (aka...passing out) the night before. Not remembering if I said anything to offend anyone in my family. I had a tendency to say whatever was on my mind and didn't care who it hurt when I was drinking. 

Mind you, my entire family was trying to grieve the death of a son and a brother. The fact I was swimming head first down a bottle of booze to escape reality was the last thing anyone in my family needed to put up with or deal with. But they did. They were scared and they didn't know what to do. I could see it in all of them. 

I've always been early to rise...even when I was drinking. I would make my way (probably still drunk) out of bed and down to my parent's house to get some coffee. I would sit on the front porch on a rocking chair and just look out over the field. My Dad, who is also an early bird, would be out riding on the golf cart around the farm and would make his way up to the front porch when he'd see me sitting there. 

He'd drive up, stop the cart and say, "your mother is worried about you," and I would reply, 'I'm fine." Sometimes he would drive off and other times when he didn't I would get up and walk inside to avoid any further confrontation. In 49 days, it must have happened 29 times. It was like Groundhog Day.  

I knew that they knew and that sucked. I had gotten away with hiding a lot from them until my brother died...and then I just didn't care to hide it anymore. I was okay with letting it destroy me. I didn't want to give up alcohol. I couldn't give up alcohol. 

So, on June 10, 2012, a celebration was being held at my parent's farm to honor my brother's memory of what would have been his 30th birthday. I apparently thought it would be a good day to hit rock bottom. Happy Birthday, Will. 

In retrospect, it was probably the best Birthday present he could have gotten because it made me change my life. 

The details are foggy and I still don't like to hear about it from my family members who were witness to it. 

But what I do remember is lying in the bed at the guest house...the same bed my brother took his last breath. I had probably had a minimum of 20 something BlueMoon beers and maybe some wine. I don't really recall. I had been drinking since about 10am that morning. I had passed out and woken up but still highly intoxicated. I don't think it was very late. I had passed out around 6pm...so it must have been around 9:00 or 10:00.

I remember my brother-in-law, Justin, coming in to talk to me. Justin was not only my brother-in-law, but one of my brother's best friends. I don't know if my family sent him up. I don't remember much of anything he said. I do remember asking him if it was bad and he nodded and said, 'yeah, Al...we're just worried." 

He didn't shame me. He didn't belittle me. He didn't ask why I was doing it. He didn't ask all those questions that made it seem like I was doing this because I wanted to...or even that I had a choice in the matter. He didn't say anything that my mom, dad, friends and other family members hadn't said to me time and time again, but for whatever reason something clicked. 

I passed back out and woke up the next morning and knew that I couldn't continue on. We were celebrating the life of my brother and I was in a complete black out state for pretty much the entire event. That wasn't living. That wasn't honoring my brother's memory. I was so ashamed of myself. I hated myself. 

That morning, June 11, 2012, I decided to go to treatment for alcohol addiction. I have never officially thanked my brother-in-law for what he said. I don't know what it was. Maybe just a perfect trifecta of person, place and time, but I am forever grateful that he came to me and was honest with me. I know that couldn't have been easy or comfortable, but it was just what I needed to hear on that night. 

Maybe you know someone who needs to hear the same thing.

        “And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”

The following Christmas...my first year sober, Justin drew my name for gifts and gave me this ring.

Infinity symbol with my birthstone, my sobriety birthstone (which is also Will's birthstone) with my sobriety date engraved. 

Why I Do What I Do

As part of an amends to my brother, Will, I wrote him a letter. I sat up pretty late one night to write the letter. It is something I had put off for a while. I don't know why I put so much pressure on myself about this letter and what to say, but I did. I mean, he was never going to actually read the letter...or was  he?

After I wrote the letter, I prayed to God asking Him to use and guide me...and for me to have the willingness to go where I could be of maximum service to those still suffering from alcoholism/addiction. I had no intention of ever posting this letter, but it speaks volumes about the power of prayer and that the things that are happening in my life is all God…I have nothing to do with it.

Dear Dirty,

Man. I don't even know where to start. I hope you can see down on everything going on because there have been some pretty amazing things happen as a direct result of your death. I hope you see how much I miss you. And not to make you sad...I'm pretty sure you don't get sad in heaven, but for you to see just how much I love you. Because that's what I cry about the most-- hoping you knew how much I loved you. I didn’t show you or tell you and even realize it until it was too late…and that really sucks. I wasn't a very good sister to you the last couple of years before you died and I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. It haunts me daily, but I am trying to live in a way that you would be proud of. I feel guilty that it was you and not me. You know I would take your place in a heartbeat, right?

On a brighter note…I'm sober. I know, right?! I got sober on June 11, 2012. Just six weeks shy of your sobriety date. I mean, I am assuming heaven keeps you sober ;) I had a bit of meltdown on your 30th Birthday, or as they call it in recovery--rock bottom. I hope you didn't see it. It was a mess--I was a mess. 

I buried my white chip at your grave as soon as I got back from rehab, but I am assuming you know that. I owe you my life, you know. It really sucks that it took your death to wake me up to my own addiction, but I am trying my best to honor your memory through being open and honest about my struggles. It's working out pretty well. By the way...your funeral was out of control. Everyone was there. Jay Z’ s 'Forever Young' was played...the pallbearers wore all black Yankees hats…and so did all the nephews. They were adorable. I even stole money from Dad’s wallet while he was sleeping to buy a pair of Louboutins to wear to your funeral. You would have been impressed. We represented with all black everything.

But, on a more serious note… I just want you to know that I wish I could have done things differently. I wish I would have been able to recognize and deal with my alcoholism before you died. I wish we could have gotten sober together. I wish I could have been the sister I should have been. I wish we could share recovery together. I wish you didn’t have to die to wake me up.

I'd give anything to have you back, but since we both know that isn't possible...and even if it was, I am pretty sure you would politely decline the offer...I will honor your memory by being the sister to others that I should I have been to you.

And so I promise you this--I will be as open and honest, carrying the message of recovery to alcoholics and addicts still suffering in any way I can. I'm hoping you and God can maybe get together on this and direct me and provide me with the opportunities where I can be of maximum service to those still suffering from this shitty disease.  

I look forward to seeing what you and God come up with and I hope I make you proud. Just know that I do what I do because of you. And for every person that I can help…it’s because of you.

Love you to heaven and back,

Al

I went to bed, prayed, and woke up to opportunity after opportunity. It’s been so overwhelming in the most amazing way. 

I was asked to speak as a family member who lost someone to prescription drug overdose at a Health Expo on "Prescription Drugs: Healing or Harmful" that is coming up this month. I have gladly agreed to speak at four local high schools this spring as part of an Alcohol & Drug Awareness program. I was offered the opportunity to blog on The Huffington Post, an international online news aggregator and blog with millions of followers, as a voice of addiction & recovery. And God showed himself most beautifully and boldly by sending me a person who was directly involved with my brother's death and at the top of my list of resentments for a long time. I was not only willing but grateful to have the opportunity to help this person get into a rehab treatment facility for his own addiction--the same treatment facility I went to.

And this isn't all. These are just the most obvious. I know, right?! God puts opportunity right in front of me every day. 

I've said it before and you will hear me say it a lot more...nothing breaks my heart more than people living and dying from the disease of addiction--a disease that has a solution and can be treated. 

Some people may get tired of seeing me constantly post about the people that I have the opportunity to be of service to through recovery...but the way I see it is this:

My brother died. I hit bottom. I got help. I got sober. I think I do a pretty good job at making recovery look attractive...because it is. So, people reach out to me. And in some way...helping them reminds me that my brother did not die in vain. For every person that I can provide a shred of hope or an ounce of inspiration to makes my brother's death a little less harsh and I see Will’s signature smirk of a smile every time I offer a hand to someone who is hurting. And that my friends is why I do what I do.

I thank you all from the very bottom of my heart for all your love and support.