u/Oatleyli

Hi, my name is Jeff, and I’m an alcoholic.

I came in this world December 11, 1985, a bouncing happy baby. By the age of 2, my parents realized they had their hands full. By the age of 6, the school system realized that I had special needs, as I would frequently interrupt class, making it a challenge to learn. Between this time and the age of 13, I had been on several different mood-altering drugs, and had consulted with dozens of counselors to try to figure out how to deal with this new thing they were calling ADHD.

At 13, my parents gave me the option to stop taking the drugs, and with their help, I tried to control the problem. I was able to manage my hyperactivity for a few years with varying degrees of success.

As a teenager, I began working at a convenience store, where I started stealing booze. It helped me to cope with pain. I wasn’t very smart about hiding the empties, and it didn’t take long for my parents to stumble across them. Man, were they pissed. When all was said and done, I had stolen eighteen fifths. My parents made me pay back the store owner for what I stole, and I was fired.

After that incident, things started going pretty well. I enrolled in the Welding & Fabrication class at the tech center. I guess that I wanted to be like my dad. During this time I made some new friends, and they introduced me to weed. Finally, I had a way to calm myself down! I would just put a towel at the bottom of my bedroom door and open an window, and finally have some sense of control over my life. That was until I got caught buying right in front of a teacher at the tech center.

My parents were on vacation at the time, and they were not impressed. Twenty hours later, they were home. My mom had been crying; and my dad, who was as mad as could be, said, “This time there will be no help. You’re on your own.” This might have scared most kids, but remember, I was ADHD.

At this point, I was a rising star in the Welding & Fabrication program. The state Secondary Welding Competition was coming up, and my instructor thought that we had a shot at the title. Now, with a drug charge, I was sidelined. However, I was able to complete my time at the tech center with my welding certificate.

After high school, I picked up an entry-level job doing light mechanical work. For the first time, I had a steady paycheck. I worked hard and met the right people, and before I knew it, I had a better job welding and working on demolition equipment. It was a lot of fun running all of that heavy equipment. With all of the new-found money came a new-found pleasure: heroin. Anywhere there was a Martin Luther King Boulevard, I could score.

God, was I becoming a mess. I had stepped all over my family. They tried, but I would not listen. Finally, I was a wreck. Everything that I made in wages went into my arm, finally breaking my spirit to the point of asking for help. My mother, God I love her, convinced my dad to step in. Some family friends were able to help get me set up at Dakoske Hall for treatment.

It was a long climb, with lots of sleepless nights for my dad, who took me to meetings at all hours. At one meeting I actually met Robin Williams! My dad always waited patiently in the truck, no matter how long it took.

I went to work for a neighbor who had a tree service. It was fun, and I was able to pick up odd welding jobs on the side. I still had feelers out there looking for a full time welding job, and bingo! An out of state demolition company needed someone with my skillset. And it wasn’t that far from home: only eight hours away from my family’s protection.

The guys on the job smoked weed and drank; and after a while, I found myself fitting right in. This eventually led to a couple of drunk driving arrests: one in Michigan, and one out of state. And again, my parents worried, but this was my life.

After a while, I screwed up that job. I bounced around for a while from welding job to welding job until my brother offered me a job. Finally, family once more. I was offered an opportunity that most only dream of. Even with my past of drunk driving and jail time, my brother convinced the owner that I could do the job. And I did for a short time. And then the wheels started falling off the bus once more. I was fired; and the hardest thing that my brother ever had to do was to buy a Greyhound ticket and send me packing.

This is where the love of my life, Lisa, comes in. We knew each other in school. She was a year older, but she liked me for who I was, not what I was. And the courtship began. She gave me a reason to live. Some friends were moving to Minnesota, and in a short time, we followed them there with Lisa at my side. I got a job welding in a large manufacturing plant and worked my way up the ladder to become one of the top fabricators...all the time drinking and boozing. Did I tell you about how much I love Lisa? We were good, but again, alcohol raised its head.

With persistence, Lisa convinced me it was time for help. My company enrolled me in the Betty Ford clinic for six weeks with a support group after. I stayed in contact with my parents and our relationship was stronger than ever. Lisa and I went home on vacation. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes! My brother Ted was to be my best man, and my brother Bob would officiate. Life was good, like it had never been in my life.

The 4th of July was a hoot! I shot off hundreds of dollars of fireworks for my family. My niece and nephew, Adelaide and Colton, loved every one, along with everyone else. We went home, and I thought that everything was going to be fine. But there was an old urge growing inside. I needed a beer: just one.

Lisa came home and asked what my dumb ass was doing. I told her I just needed one beer. Wow, here it goes again. I would go fishing and drink, and no one would know. Lisa was starting to worry, but I assured her that it was just beer; no hard stuff. This was a lie; I was doing both when I was fishing.

Minnesota’s winter arrived with new ice, and new friends to drink with. I would call my parents while I was fishing, telling them the catch of the day. God, I caught some big fish, and the pictures I sent to my dad seemed to please him.

And then, on Saturday, January 28, I drank too much and decided to drive to my friend’s house to sleep it off. If I hadn’t been drinking I might have noticed that I turned one road too soon. I crested a hill and saw the the road ended at a T directly ahead. I turned the wheel hard to the right, sliding sideways on the dirty pavement. The momentum carried me into the ditch where I struck a small tree. The tree snapped, but it was enough to carry my trajectory toward a bigger, immovable tree: the tree that took my life.

Hi, my name is Jeff, and I’m an alcoholic.

A passer-by drove past the accident and called 911. Rescue units had to cut Jeff out of his damaged SUV. He was medevaced to the best trauma center in the state. He had a team of doctors and nurses working 24/7 to contain his injuries. He arrived at the center with a broken ankle, legs broken above and below the knees, a shattered pelvis, a punctured bladder, a lacerated kidney. Teeth were knocked out, and there was uncontrollable swelling of the brain. At the time of admittance, his blood/alcohol level was .186.

The trauma team worked to keep him alive until family members from across the country could gather to say goodbye to their broken loved one.

Jeff passed, leaving family member wondering what could have been done to prevent this tragic ending from happening. There is none!

This is a look at a loved one’s life through the eyes of a grieving father. Please be aware of your family member, so you can prevent the tragedy that has befallen my family. Jeff will be missed forever.