Success Stories
Put a half a dozen people together who have found success using Total Recovery, and you have at least 100 years' worth of experience and knowledge in one room.
Success stories that offer hope to the hopeless.
What I have written here is meant to bring hope and encouragement. If reading about someone else's recovery will be an aid in your recovery, then by all means that is what I'll do.
Dr. John Alan Princton
My first story is about a young man who was stressed out because he was unable to pass his final exams and meet all the requirements for his chosen profession. He had spent eight years of his life in college and his grades were satisfactory even exceptional at times. Like most young men in college he wanted to be accepted by his peers and enjoy the fun and excitement found in the college environment. The booze, the girls and the parties became a regular routine in his social life and at times took precedence over everything else. He found that alcohol was a great way to relieve his anxieties and get rid of his inhibitions. As academic pressures grew so did his use of alcohol. By the middle of his eighth year in college alcohol and other drugs became a controlling factor in his life.
After failing his finals for the third time John threw the towel in and quit trying. Gradually his friends who had encouraged him to drink and drug in the first place started to abandon him. John kept slipping into a nightmare, the place I call the Gray World. When he finally reached bottom he decided it was time for help. He tried one rehabilitation program after another. Nothing worked! Since nothing was working and since he was always miserable and depressed he made up his mind to take the easy way out. Suicide!
I found John in the emergency room at the VA hospital. His suicide attempt had failed and he was angry at the whole world for not allowing him to die. His hopes and dreams were dead, so why not his body!
I sat with John for several hours as the doctors and nurses fought to save his life. My only thought was, "This poor soul needed my help desperately." When John recovered enough so that he could carry on an intelligent conversation we started to talk. By the way, I seen a small spark of hope in his eyes that told me he still wanted to achieve his goals and live the life of his dreams. As we talked, I started to introduce positive subliminal thoughts into his subconscious mind. I wanted to encourage him to ask for my help.
After a long period of communication, covering John's life from the beginning until the present time, I started to break through the defenses he had set up. Finally he asked for my help. In no uncertain terms he wanted to get well. This was the beginning. John was ready to be reborn.
John read my book, not just once, several times. He followed my easy formula for success and he uses the simple steps that I outline for recovery on a daily basis. John has recovered simply by changing his way of thinking. He did it by himself with just a little bit of my help. Dr. John Alan Princeton is my first real success story.
Bill Phillips
My next success story is about a close friend of mine but before I tell you his story I'd like you to read the tribute he send me. His tribute and others like it give my life meaning.
A Tribute To My Best Friend Cash Neve,
When I was locked in the world of anxiety and fear. It was a roughest and most hopeless time of my life. . Relationships failed and I was slowly losing the respect and trust which were the foundation of my existence. Nothing was working and over indulgence was killing me. . The meticulous grind of day to day living was dragging me down, almost as far as I could go. It was like my insides were on the outside ready to explode. The slightest addition of stress often tipped the balance, and I'd explode. I never really let my emotion show on the outside it was always hidden deep inside me. The world hasn't seemed to change much, but with the help of God and a true desire to get back on track, I have. In fact, I'm more functional, resilient, and successful then I ever was. I owe this all to Big Daddy Cash and his book Total Recovery. Bill Phillips
Bill was a struggling author of rhymes and poems. He was critic to many of my poems and short stories. His influence and encouragement gave me the insight to write what I write. He once told me that I needed to draw on my relationships with family and friends to create my poems. He said this is where you will get the right feelings to touch another heart with insight and your reader will discover a glimmer of themselves in your poems and short stories. Bill gave me something that I'll never forget and I am thankful that when he needed my help I was there.
Bill came from a family of heavy drinkers and drug users. His father was a dedicated alcoholic and his mother sold drugs to provide for the families needs. He had six brothers and sisters who were all users and abusers. So unfortunately Bill fell right into tha alcohol trap. Since he was a deep thinker he used drinking to relieve anxiety and feelings of depression. His subconscious mind was a dumpster for all kinds of bad feelings so naturally most of his decisions were bad.
I've notice that most people with God given talents are eccentric and often have emotion explosions. Bill was no exception. He had a temper that would detonate on the drop of a pin. Bill was one of my lucky students because he didn't sink to rock bottom before he sought help. He realized he had a problem and asked me if I could help. He has learned to control his temper, he has quit his drinking, and he has found success and fame in his writing activities.
My Story "Lost and Found"
This is my story and I'll do my best not to make it sound like an AA testimony. If you have read my book Lost and Found (The Story of My Life) you will find that what I'm writing here is a completely different version. When I wrote Lost and Found it was my first attempt to write a short story and besides that my mind was still foggy from alcohol and drug abuse. The book was poorly written and some what misleading and too much detail was spent on each issue or life events. This time around I'll stick to the facts and get right to the point. I'll try to make the story flow smoothly but I'm going to tell it in the form of a profile.
I was born and raised in Salt lake City, Utah. Spent six years in the Navy. When discharged I returned to Salt Lake. I lived with my parents for a few months then moved to Price, Utah to work in the mines and start a painting business. I met a beautiful young lady in Price, got married, bought a small ranch and settled down to raise a family. We had six lovely daughters and we raised them to be fine young adults. Everything was going great and I was proud of the life I provided for my family. Sometimes appearances are deceiving and at this particular time and place they were. I caught my wife with another man, left her in a violent rage, and returned to Salt Lake City. I said I'd stick to the facts and get right to the point. Well, I have just covered six chapters of Lost and Found in one paragraph.
Before I continue, I want it to be known, I skipped several life events that happened before, in between and after what I have just described. I have a good reason for doing this; I don't want to spend time on events that had nothing to do with my slip into the Gray World (The world of drugs, alcohol and crime).
It is easy to be verbose using a thousand words where just a few well picked words will do. As I continue I somehow want to create the passion, self expression, feeling and purpose behind the direction my life took, but there is none. The intensity to turn to alcohol and drugs had no purpose. The decision was mine (The fruit of bad thinking) and my destiny was hopelessness, despair, rejection, depression and most likely a painful death.
My story continues and for the next ten years I floundered through the filth, rubbish and wretchedness that clutter the streets in the Gray World. Steeped with alcohol and turned to crime for survival my life had lost all care and meaning. I wanted to die but I didn't have the guts to kill myself.
Suddenly one night, very close to death, stench with the smell of urine, vomit and alcohol, an angel appeared. She held out her hand and said take my hand and I'll save you. The angel was my youngest daughter. Her intuition told her dad needed her so she searched and found me. The doctors say that if she hadn't found me when she did I would have died.
It was an act of God, that day, which turned my life around and gave me the courage to cure myself. Through loads of research I found the steps to total recovery. From that day forward I've dedicated my live to those in need.
MY SUCCESS
I have two brothers, one who lives a relatively normal life and one who followed in my footsteps and became a hopeless alcoholic and drug abuser. I mention my brothers because they both were the inspiration, in one way and another, that gave me the determination to write Total Recovery and dedicate my life to helping those in need. I'm going to use their names because I don't know of any other way to express my appreciation to both of them for what they did for me. Jimmy, my youngest brother was the one who followed in my foot steps by giving in to the temptation of drugs and alcohol. Clinton, my other brother, was always there to pick me up out of the gutter and try to set my life straight. The power of addiction is so over whelming that no matter how hard Clinton tried to save his brothers all his attempts failed. The point I want to make is that Clinton was always there at beckon call. Jimmy lost his life to addiction but I'm sure God has other plans for his eternal life. Both brothers in, a subliminal way, influenced me to free myself of the abusive nature and return to life in the real world. It was through the power of love (unconditionally) that I found my success.
I wrote an article many years ago right after my recovery and I think it is only apropos that I use it here;
Feb. 25, 1995
"Success, whether measured in business, family or love, is often determined by the right attitude. Unfortunately, maintaining that proper frame of mind, a positive attitude, isn't always easy. Sometimes, in spite of our best efforts, Life just seems intent on bringing us down. Inspiration, however, is rarely far away - if we are but willing to look for it. No one is ever born into Life alone. Everyone has shared the bond of family, at least at birth, and for many people it is a bond that will follow them throughout life. For many people it is the most important bond of all. No one person can ever experience all that life has to offer. It is only through sharing experiences, feelings and insights that we can hope to grow beyond our own meager lifetime."
Sams Story
This man asked me not to reveal his true identity. He asked for my help in the year 2001 since then he has become very successful and he is alcohol free.
This story is about a man named Sam and his exploits on the wrong side of the fence, or tracks, which ever you prefer. Sam was a very serious drunk with one mission in life. That mission was to make his life as miserable as he possibly could. He also had a death wish but lacked the courage to inflict it in one easy blow. So he was taking the slow way using alcohol as a poison, which in most cases ends up in death. This is only one of the stories about Sam's life on the gray side, he has many to tell.
I remember that day well, I woke up in the morning sicker then hell, and I had the shakes so bad that I couldn't hold a cup in my hand with out spilling its contents. This wasn't unusual; it was almost a daily occurrence, what was different was my clean attire and the clean bed that I woke up in.
As I slopped cold water on my face a vague remembrance of the evening before flashed through my mind. I had met a stranger who for some reason wanted to help me get back on my feet. I felt sure I was being conned but he was buying the drinks, so I went along with what ever pleased him. I remember that he owned a night club some where and that he was willing to give me some kind of a job, other then that, I couldn't remember anything else.
My only thought right now was that I had to get out of here and find me a drink, what the hell, most likely I'd never see this guy again, and if I did, I didn't give a shit anyway. I headed for the door and as I reached for the knob it burst open. There was the stranger and with him two of the meanest looking characters I'd ever laid eyes on. My instincts told me that if I wanted to get out of there alive I'd better strike first and make it count, and then run like hell. I was about to strike when the stranger stepped forward and said; "morning Sam, I got a job for yaw,"
Job hell, I don't want a job, I replied. "But last night you promised." Shit, you can't believe anything I say when I'm drunk. And you heard me; I don't want a job. Do I have to spell it out for you? "Come on Sam lets go down to the bar and have a drink while we talk this over." Holy shit, that did it, I needed a drink so bad that all caution just flew out the window. OK, I said, let's talk!
This all took place about six months ago, ever since I've been working for John R. (not a stranger any more). The best thing about the job was that I never run out of booze. John set me up in a small suite, on the top floor of the Miles Hotel. His bar was on the main floor of the Hotel and his after hour's club was in the basement. My job consisted of doing what ever John asked me to do, which at times became a little flaky. Every morning I was to open the bar in the hotel at 10 o'clock and stay until the day bartender got there, usually about noon. At night I just had to stick around in the club in case there was trouble and that's when I'd go into action. John knew that I had been in Special Forces and was highly trained in martial arts; I must have been pretty mouthy the night that we met. Anyway, it was clear to me now that John wanted to have command over this deadly art of mine.
I really wasn't surprised when I found out that John R. Was a big shot in the mafia? I knew that he had to be involved in the underworld because of his life style and also because he always had those two mean looking bodyguards with him. Up until now I had done a few illegal things to get my badly needed alcohol, but now I had fallen into the clutches of organized crime. You think my career, as a professional alcoholic was bad, the next year and a half as a participant in this organization was totally a nightmare. Why I'm alive, to tell about it is some kind of miracle. Guns, knifes, and prison have brought to a climax the lives of everyone that was involved in this family of crime, believe it or not I'm the only one left. And I was the one that was on the suicide mission. These experiences started a positive change in my attitude but it would still be a while before I'd stop wallowing in the filth of the gray world.
While Sam Simple was on the shady side of society his escapades seem to attract the victims of circumstance both the unintentional and the intentional. Sam was completely saturated with sin so it's not surprising that sin would envelop his very existence. No matter where Sam turned his present life style invited trouble and turbulence. It was almost like he was constantly being tested by some invisible source. Maybe this was all prewritten and had to be lived to fulfill a prophecy. I wonder if leading this kind of life provided the tools that were needed to change what appeared to be unchangeable. What ever the answer is, Sam was sure getting an education. His life in the gray world took him from one bad place to another sometimes even a worse place.
Sam was on a journey experiencing life from all aspects, good and bad. That would eventually give him the wisdom and the courage to return to a rewarding and socially acceptable life. Sam wasn't ready yet to make that return. Sam was trapped in a position with the mafia that would take him two years to break The truth is; John R. really did take a liking to Sam and if it hadn't been for this bond Sam would have been stuck in the mafia forever. Once a member, always a member, and if you tried to leave a contract was put out on you. That's all there was to it. Like I said, it took two years, Sam finally made a deal with John R. that got him out with no fear of retaliation. I think at this point Sam really wanted to make a turn about, but alcohol had such a hold on him he was unable to make the change. However, he did try.
Sam had an uncle who had made his claim to fame as an artist. Everybody called him Willy. Sam was Willies' favorite nephew and he cared a great deal for Sam and his well being. Willy wanted his art studio completely refurbished and he wanted Sam for the job. His offer to Sam was room and board, a meager salary and a painting that Sam loved.
The studio was an old three story house, registered as a historical site, it had some very interesting stories of it's own that dated back to the civil war. At any rate Sam accepted the offer with enthusiasm and the desire to make a new beginning. Let's continue now, with Sam's rendition of his life on the west side.
They say grown men don't cry, don't you believe it, it's a lie. I can't get drunk enough or hard enough to squelch the tears for what I've lost and long for. Sometime I sit in the dark clutching my bottle, hugging my dog and cry for hours and if you think that makes me less of a man I'll kick the shit right out of ya.
There's a song called Lonesome Love Songs, that I play over and over and each time I almost drown in the tears. It goes something like this; I've heard some lonesome love songs and they always make me cry but the saddest words I ever heard were when you said goodbye. A bell that is broken cannot ring, a bird with no song cannot sing. I said it didn't matter but I told you a lie, cause the saddest words I ever heard was when you said goodbye.
How could I go on without my Lily and my little sweethearts? Oh God, I miss them so terribly much, what am I to do? I don't want to go on alone, OH GOD help me, please.
The weather out side is really bad. They say on the news that this is probably the worst snowstorm Utah has ever seen and I believe it. Cars are completely covered under a blanket of snow and the snow along the sides of the sidewalks is well over the heads of the people using them, and it just keeps coming down. How am I going to get to the liquor store? I know! I'll call Dana. Who's Dana? Dana is a gal I met awhile back that will do anything I ask, unfortunately she loves me. Hello Dana, I need your help, the liquor store closes in less then an hour and I've got the shakes and need a drink bad. Please can you help? "Sure Hon, I can leave work for a bit, see you in a few." Oh boy, am I ever lucky, Dana never lets me down. To bad I can't see her in the same light that she sees me.
Now that I've got my bottle coming, I can calm down a little and get on with my story. I moved out of the Miles Hotel a few weeks back and moved into this big old house that I plan to remodel. The place belonged to my uncle, who by the way had been looking for me for a long time. He used the place to show his paintings, he wanted it remodeled from the ground up and he wanted me to do it. Hell, it was an opportunity for me to make a brand new start, so I jumped at the chance.
I could see right off the bat that this remodel job was going to take a long time so I decided to turn a small area on the third floor into my living quarters. I turned a large walk-in closet into a small kitchenette, bought a TV, an easy chair, and a slightly used bed and I was set. What I figured would be a six-month job took over a year and a half. What a wild year and a half it was. My drinking associates (you notice I don't use the word friends, there's a reason) from the streets found out where I lived and the place turned into a party house for out casts.
I look back at the guy I was during my days in the gray world and what I see is what a screwed up mess I was. My way of thinking and rationalizing was, to say the least, weird and my values weren't worth flushing down the toilet. If I needed a drink, and didn't have the money, I didn't think twice about rolling a drunk to get it, on the other hand if I had the money everybody drank. My strange way of thinking justified my behavior. It's said that alcohol numbs the brain; well I sure had a numb skull. My new home became the nest for all kinds of sinful goings on. Even at my worst I was always what you would call a functional drunk. All this means is that no matter how staggering drunk I got I was able to produce.
I refuse to call anybody that I associated with, during my ten years of elicit living, a friend (I hope you detect the sign of bitterness when I use the word elicit). If you have noticed I always refer to them as associates or acquaintances. I had no friends. Well, with the exception maybe Dana. All others would just as soon cut my throat then look at me. To tell you the truth I didn't give a bitching dam. Most of the time I didn't give a bitching dam about anything.
There are numerous stories that I could tell about the year and a half I spent at Willies but if I did this would no longer be a short story, it would become an encyclopedia.
One good thing came out of the time that I spent at the Willies Art Studio. I always had a special talent for building, remodeling, painting and decorating. In spite of the fact that I was totally inebriated the whole time that I worked on Willies place, the place turned out to be a work of art. A master piece that I can honestly say was recognized and praised by some of the best architects of that time period.
The place became well known as Williams House of Art. Not only did it house Willies art, but the works of contemporary artists from all over the world adorned the walls of the entire three levels. This was a feat that no matter what the circumstances of the time I will always be proud of my contribution. And amazingly as it seems it led to my next domain and the next rendition of my story.
A local contractor visited the grand opening of the gallery and was so impressed by the job that I had done that he sought me out and offered me, what was another opportunity for me to change my life for the better. Part of his offer was a two bedroom cottage on a lot adjacent to one of his rental properties. This would become my home for the next year or so.
Well you can't say that I wasn't getting more then my share of opportunities. As I've said before and I'll say again, somebody up there was sure trying to help me, even though their attempts were in vain. As it turned out, what could have been a nice career with a top firm was short lived and I was terminated because my bout with alcohol was getting worse. I was told that my work was the best but they couldn't put up with the rest. So after a year I was back in the streets again. Not really the streets, I was living in the back seat of my car with my dog. I'd graduated from rolling drunks and had picked up a new skill. The art of panhandling. My car, which by the way never had any gas in it, was parked in the back of a large trucking company right next to a hobo camp. I got to know the transients of the valley quite well. Factly, that's where I learned my new art. Each morning, flat broke, an hour before the liquor store opened, my dog and I would walk, about eight blocks, to the store. We always managed to panhandle enough to buy a couple bottles of cheap hooch and a couple cans of dog food. I want you to know I never bought cheap dog food, I always bought the best. Well, that's all for now! Maybe someday I'll return and finish the story.
New Lifestyle
CONGRATULATIONS You Are Sober And Clean. "NOW WHAT!"
You can return to where you were in the real world if that's at all possible. Or you can start with a clean sheet and put a new career with an attentive solution to a new and exciting lifestyle into your life. If you want to wake up and appreciate each moment for what it is, then I suggest we start with a clean sheet. Now that we have replaced all your bad habits with good habits and all your negative thoughts with positive thoughts it's time to put them to work. You have just returned from a bad journey so you deserve all the good things that life has to offer. I'm here to help you make the right choices if you'll let me
I found out late in life that if you want to be truly successful at what you do for a living it's much better if you are in business for yourself. When I recovered from alcoholism I went to work for a large corporation as an engineer. I worked for them for over 10 years then was forced to retire because my health wasn't quite up to par. They laid me off without any benefits and it didn't take long to go through my life savings. Prior to my drinking career I had my own business and I made enough money to raise my family with all the comforts life has to offer. I'm relaying this information to you because I don't want what happened to me to happen to you. I constantly hear that money isn't everything, but let me be blunt, money buys everything but love. And do you want to know something, even love is lost if it isn't fed and nourished, housed and sheltered. Like I said I found out late in life but it's never too late.
If you have a profession, and you love your profession then let us makes you the best at what ever you do. If your chosen occupation is beneath your abilities then lets find you a position that meets and requires your talents. If you're the kind of individual that doesn't like the responsibility of running a business and would rather work for somebody else then lets find you a company that pays a decent salary and gives you a good monetary retirement. With the knowledge that you have received from my book, and just a little bit of my help, you can do anything you set your mind to and be anything that you want to be. I know that to be a fact because I've done it. I'm 72 years old, I started my own businesses two years ago and I'm already making a comfortable living.
I have helped many alcoholics and drug users recover from their abusive nature but that's not where it ends. Rehabilitation after rebirth is quite another thing and needs close attention. Most of the people that I have helped are bewildered after their recovery. They have found one true success but "Now What". That is why I've added this section to my book.
I'm still working on this edition of Total Recovery and it won't be published for another month or two. So I'm asking you (the reader) for help. If you are a non-abuser or a recovered substance abuser and you are living a productive lifestyle in body, mind and spirit please help me finish this section. Unfortunately I haven't been able to find anything on the internet or in the libraries that supports my hypothesis that the helped need help after recovery. If what you send is helpful it will be added to this section and you'll be given full credit for its content.
