Dane County, Wisconsin



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|Dane County Coalition to Reduce Alcohol Abuse |

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|STORIES OF ALCOHOL ABUSE |

|DANE COUNTY, WISCONSIN |

|SPRING, 2010 |

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|DANE COUNTY, WISCONSIN |

|ALCOHOL ABUSE STORIES |

|SPRING, 2010 |

AARON (not his real name)

As a kid, my parents gave me drinks at the table if I wanted it; I never liked the taste. It was available. Their idea was I wouldn’t have to hide it as I grew up.

I started drinking at the usual time – end of middle school.

My first time being really drunk was when my brother was a junior and I was a freshman. He was having a party and managed to get alcohol with a fake. Me and my two friends were off to the side, drinking. We thought we were cool but weren’t really integrating with the party. I had some trouble with pot; pretty much stopped going to school my junior year. I got sent to therapeutic boarding school for my senior year. I was sober at boarding school. When I came out, I graduated from high school and came straight here [UW-Madison].

The boarding school was a joke so I got good grades and got in the UW. I got in trouble my freshman year; failed two out of three classes. I got in the fraternity.

Today I am a first semester sophomore. Now I drink on the weekend; go to bars and try to have fun. The way I see it is the drinking age is just a way to produce revenue. Kids are as responsible at 18 as they are at 21…well, maybe not. But the drinking age is pushing the drinking underground and is making the problem worse. It is causing binge drinking. If they could drink legally, they wouldn’t need to drink in the dorms – take six shots – and then go out and get drunk.

I wouldn’t consider myself an alcoholic by any means. I like getting drunk and loosening up. It is unavoidable. My mindset – when you think about college as a 16, 17, 18 year old -- you don’t think about the work, you think about partying. How many times can I get laid, how many parties, the bars, the fake ID. It is part of the culture especially at a big school like UW-Madison. It is part of the appeal. I’d say more than half of the students come to UW because it is a party school. Everyone comes into college and they fulfill their fantasies about what they want to do whether it be drinking a lot or getting really good grades.

I’m working hard so I can play hard. It is a cliché but it gets the job done.

I’m looking for support in this treatment program; it is about social anxiety. Drinking helps with that – it relieves the anxiety.

I came to school second semester freshman year and everyone was in SOAR together. I have a hard time putting myself out there. I saw this flyer in my dorm for the fraternity. I did not even have a roommate because I came in late. I joined the fraternity; it is part of the fraternity life to drink. My best friends – the best friends I have had in a while – are in the fraternity. I have a good friend I can talk to and he is non-judgmental. It is a brotherhood. It is a band of brothers. It is nice to know you have that safety net to fall back into.

When I go home, I have two or three friends but here it is a totally different life style. At home I am constantly reminded of the negative things that occurred. I can be who I want to be here and not who I was. College is a place to reinvent yourself; to come into your mind. You have time to grow and mature. It is a great transition time. I went from being infantilized in boarding school – no responsibilities – to here where it all rests on my shoulders. I am on probation now and I’m realizing that there are consequences for my actions. In high school, I could get through easily. Here it is hard and you appreciate the down time more.

I’ve been feeling good lately; we have switched my meds up. My priorities are right now. Number one is me; making sure I am happy. Number two is school. And number three is having fun. That is different from freshman year when having fun was my first priority.

I definitely feel – I’m almost 20 – I feel change. I am enjoying it right now. That is why I am here at this group. I am not committed to being completely sober but I am committed to keeping my priorities in mind.

I am here by choice. I tried AA and NA meetings at my boarding school. I don’t want to think I am powerless. It is not old guys telling their stories; it is people my age here. It is empowering to see kids your age struggling with the same things and coming out on the other end. I have a friend who was addicted to every pill she could get her hands on. Now she is completely sober and taking a lighter load in college. She is doing really great.

I don’t think the drinking culture will ever change. You cannot control what people do in their own apartments. I feel safe. I am not afraid of the cops raiding or coming into bars. The general view is that the cops are just spoiling the good times. They are forcing binge drinking.

I had an experience where I passed out a week or two ago. The scary thing is that it happens to someone every weekend. Someone in your group is always throwing up. No one ever freaks out; no one goes to the hospital.

When I passed out, I was thinking this sucks. I wished I hadn’t. There was a lot of regret, especially when I was throwing up the next day. That is what kids aim for – you know the term, black out drunk. They will say, let’s get black out drunk -- on top of Adderall or something. It is just the norm: to have the most fun. It is a reward system; at least for me. For me, if I have work to do, I’m not going to go out drinking. For lots of kids, when it is the weekend, they just want to get loose – to go out drinking.

How to change binge drinking? The obvious answer is to change the drinking age. Making drinking taboo makes it exciting. I have been drinking since freshman year – I have been drinking for five years of my life. It is almost a third. If I keep going, then I will have been drinking for ¾ of my life. It is a vicious circle and no easy answer to lessen binge drinking. One answer is handing the responsibility back to the kids. We are at college and making our own decisions every day. Why can’t we make this decision? If we had a Hookah bar, something like that – a relaxing place – then kids might just have a beer with it and relax. There are a bunch of sober activities on campus so it is there for those who are looking. I would go to a sober activity; classes are a sober activity.

ELIZABETH (not her real name)

I started drinking in high school – maybe when I was 17 – which was also when I started smoking pot. The high school I went to was pretty heavy into pot; more so than alcohol. It was easier to get a hold of marijuana than alcohol. Before I was 16, I have no recollection of alcohol playing any part in my life. I was captain of the math team.

I went to undergrad in Boston and ended up living in a dorm. There was a really big arts culture at the college, but also a really big alcohol and drug culture. We all knew who the narc was in the dorms; they grew pot there. I started dating a pot dealer my freshman year.

Our parties had Power Hours – where you drink 100 shots in 100 minutes. The goal is to see how much you can drink before you get sick. I made it to 60. We would drink out of everything at the house – the pots and pans, cups and glasses, everything. Someone calls out the minutes so you know when to drink. It was competitive drinking.

Later that year I started experimenting with hallucinogens. Other people were doing it and I wanted to get into the college experience. I was doing really well in school that entire time. When I came to the UW-Madison for law school, I did not know anyone so I stopped doing drugs. In law school, though, everything revolves around drinking. This past September I was pulled over for a DUI. I don’t remember what happened. I blew about a .25 and spent the night at the Public Safety Building.

My father was an alcoholic. He drank until his organs died – about 3 years ago.

When I was about 16, he lost his job. After that, he sat on the couch all day. He would actually wet himself. We did an intervention. He went to Hazeldon. After my parents’ divorce, I never saw him again.

I want to stop any drinking before I get to that point. I figure it is better to stop now before my life is completely ruined. It could affect me mentally and physically as well as in my future relationships and my career, especially if I had to take time off of work to get sober.

I am an inherently logical person – an engineer and now in law school. That is why I liked drinking and drugs in the first place because it took me out of that logical place. Every so often it helps to see something in a very different way and the alcohol and drugs helped.

One of the problems I have with AA is that they are all about finding a higher power. I am not a fan of the disease model of addiction. The concept of being powerless over addiction – that it is not your fault—is not something I believe in. I would like to believe that I am stronger than that.

I think my mom is glad I am getting help. She is a doctor but she is not the most rational person. She sent me to a speech therapist rather than getting me help for depression. In the long run, she will be cool. She doesn’t know I did a lot of drugs and alcohol in high school. I am supposed to have a graduation from this treatment program next week but I don’t really want my mom to know about this. I feel I am too old to have my mom be part of my life at this time. I am 24 and in a year and a half I will be a lawyer.

ALLIE (not her real name)

|I am a sophomore at UW-Madison. I did not drink at all during high school; I was in sports and did not want to get in trouble. My friends drank in|

|high school; I was the driver. I came here and started drinking the first night in Madison. In high school, I always knew I could drink in college|

|later. To go to Madison and not drink is uncommon. Sellery is my dorm; a party dorm. I did not see alcohol affecting my life. I get good grades |

|but I am known among my friends to get more drunk then they do. This year I’ve gotten in trouble. I am not 21 and don’t have a fake or anything. |

|I went to my sister’s bachelorette and pretended to be the person on the ID cards. I got four tickets that night. That was the first incident when|

|I got in trouble. I blew it off. I thought it was just unlucky. At the last football I got really drunk and got sent to detox. |

|It was blurry when I went to detox. I did not think I should be there; they should have let me go home. I thought about it more the next day. My |

|whole family was really upset. No one in our family has ever gotten in trouble. I have not drunk for 30 days. It is hard when you go to school |

|here. I’m not alcohol dependent like the others here. It is good to be around folks who are sober. Everyone I hang around with drinks. It gets |

|old to be around when everyone else is drunk. We are working on why I get so drunk and on ways to not drink. We are working on ways to just have a|

|beer. I did not want to be here [in out-patient treatment] when I started; I am just like every other college student. But my drinking is getting |

|in the way. It is affecting my life – I am on disciplinary probation. |

|It is harder to talk to guys at parties; it shouldn’t matter because the guys are drunk. Alcohol gives you a protective barrier; I know people that|

|drink for that reason. How are you going to meet people if not at parties? It is hard with such a big school; people at smaller schools get to |

|meet people in their classes. In a lecture of 500, I sit with my friends. There are lots of things to do here but I don’t know about them. It is |

|like when you come to Madison it is known as a big party school so people either want to drink or they find other things to do. All my roommates |

|and friends lived on my floor last year. The first week I did not know anyone from school. We all got ready the first night and went out together.|

|It was really fun. I’ve had a blast here the last couple of months. |

|The Alcohol Smart class teaches about how much you weigh and your gender and how much each drink is affecting you and after this many drinks and you|

|have blood alcohol of X. One girl had her Alcohol Smart sheet -- showing how much she could drink -- with her when she went to detox. |

|Until I’m off probation in June, I won’t drink at all. I may drink again next year but will work on not getting caught at all. It would look bad; |

|just be more careful. Football games are the worst place to go; I just need to be more in control. I don’t want to stay completely sober; it is a |

|fun part of being in college. I don’t want to have to turn down everything. I was most mad about not being able to have fun in college with my |

|friends; to go out with my friends and have the stories to tell people later in my life. UW is hard and I study 24/7 during the week. The weekends |

|are my time not to study, to go out. Now I get done with a hard week and I cannot go out, really. Because I have to be sober. |

|Family is part of what keeps me from drinking; don’t want to cause them any more disappointment. |

JON (not his real name)

I went to LaFollette. I started drinking and smoking when I was 14; I started blacking out every weekend.

First semester, in college, I started binging with lots of pills and alcohol. I did not really get to know anyone on campus at Edgewood. I took the second semester off. I started binging with UW students. I started binging on alcohol, coke, Ecstasy and Adderall. I am a long time abuser of Adderall; I’ve been using it since I was a little kid for ADD.

I began to deal Adderall. Students use it at final’s time. That was how I made my beer money. I was buying it off the streets. It definitely did help with the whole drinking aspect because it is an amphetamine so Adderall let me drink a lot more. It is an upper and alcohol took me down – but with the drug, I could drink more and stay even. I have major depressive disorder and may be bipolar.

I passed all but one of my classes while binging drinking. I took my ACT while drunk and got a 22.

I love parties. I love partying with Ecstasy and drinking. It is my favorite combo. If I can’t get Ecstasy, I’ll take any other pill. I will go on very hard binges on the weekends and stay awake for 2 days. I love parties downtown and I always meet a girl or two and that is fun. The girls tend to like me. From being a long-time dealer, I have a lot of friends spread out around Madison. When I party, I get partied into a circuit, from one to the next.

I am in treatment now. No one knows where I live. I keep people at bay. I can connect with people and learn about them, but I hold them away. I don’t get that attachment because they eventually leave. I would consider myself shy. Right now I am not socializing; I don’t feel like talking to anyone. Most of the people I know party; I have cut all my friends down to four.

One friend at the UW is doing well. He drinks on the weekends but no legal problems or other drugs. Another close friend – we have used heavy together and went through outpatient together -- is a heroin addict and an alcoholic. That is a bad situation. Another friend will drink and smoke but he is one of those who can try a drug once and never do it again. He just doesn’t have an addictive personality. He tried OxyContin in high school and Ecstasy at prom and he has never has done either one since. My other friend has been with me since I first transferred to LaFollette my freshman year. He is a blue collar guy going to MATC and working, working, working.

I just haven’t reached out right now because I am manipulative. My friend who is a heroin addict and I leach off of each other. Whatever either of us gets, we share. Right now I cannot hang out with him; he just turned 21 and likes to hang out at the bars. He nearly died from an overdose. He went to the hospital and was “rebooted.” I was coming to meet him and he told me he had just gotten out of the hospital.

When his friend overdosed and died, that sent me to a tailspin. I ended up in the hospital. I locked myself up in the dorm with pills and alcohol and was put in the hospital for suicidal ideation. If I had picked up more, I might not have made it. I am very private and would just float in and out. They called me mysterious in the dorm. I would disappear. I was still dealing and did not want anyone to know. Not only is that illegal, but it would get me kicked out of the dorm. I had enough contacts at the UW so did not need to sell at Edgewood. I frankly did not trust kids at Edgewood not to tell on me.

I have changed my priorities – work, school, AA meetings, home. I work on the 12 Steps; it has worked for my family. My parents don’t drink to excess. They have never been drunk around us. It worked for my brothers but not for me. They did the readings; they wanted to show middle of the road, responsible drinking.

BRIAN (not his real name)

I began drinking at age 13. I was looking for something to do and drinking was the greatest thing I had ever discovered. I thought, if this first shot feels this good, more will feel better.

All the men on my mother’s side and some on my dad’s as well are drinkers. No one said, you have this in your blood, your genes. My uncle committed suicide when I was 12 and so I knew it was in my family. The death was alcohol related. Age 16 was when I really went downhill. I wasn’t able to control when I drank. I was constantly questioning myself if I was an alcoholic. I told myself, this is something I can control; something I can stop. It was so uncomfortable and unnatural not to drink. I wanted solid proof that I was having trouble. To this day I desperately want to avoid experiencing the consequences. But I would still drink if it was fun; even with the consequences.

There is no real effect on me other than impairing my motor skills. Now that I haven’t been drinking, I would have to drink so much to get high it would mean being incapacitated for one or two days. Drinking, you lose everything in life and it starts to whittle away at your character and who you are as a person. At the heart of it I think I am still the same person I was in my youth. My values as a 13, 16, 18, 20-year old were changing as I drank. My willingness to do things was changed. Stealing and lying were things I never did as a child. That faded over time but it isn’t gone now. I was opposed to stealing but I found myself shoplifting and I felt almost compelled to do it. I did not always steal to purchase alcohol. Actually the first thing I stole was alcohol. Then I began stealing for the rush of stealing. I felt like I was decoding their security system. Getting back at “the man.”

I kicked a cop in the head and spit on another police officer and got two batteries to police officers. I got minimal sentence and was sent to rehab. I spent from June to October in jail and four months on electronic monitoring and three years probation.

I work with dogs at a dog daycare. I have done it from age 16 on. I get a certain feeling from dogs; they speak a completely different language than people but we are willing to understand each other. The dog daycare owners gave me a break and they did not make hide or hair of my background or felonies.

I value family and hope that things are going to get better. The experience of having lost so much keeps me going. When you have a lot to lose, you can gamble. When you have little to lose, you cannot afford to gamble. I feel like I’ve known Shelly Dutch [Connections Counseling] forever; she has saved my life on numerous occasions. She is a human being. She is not trying to control the situation. People look up to her and her personal power. I think people have to be born with that. There are many different types of treatment; Shelly is in a class of her own.

The Wisconsin culture of alcohol is pretty rampant. I think people everywhere I’ve gone [in the U.S.] have drunk to excess. But it is not as accepted among the well-to-do everywhere. Wisconsin has a lack of hard drugs is one thing that is holding the state together. You don’t see meth and the quality of heroine is pretty low as compared to LA. If I were on State Street tonight I wouldn’t think it out of place to see a well-dressed young man drunk on the street; here it would just be a young man who had a rough night and he needs to go home. There is an acceptance for mass consumption of alcohol in Wisconsin but very little tolerance for its consequences.

TONY (not his real name)

I got sentenced to 1 year in jail – TAP is an alternative to incarceration. I was arrested for selling drugs and using drugs and alcohol.

My grandfathers on both sides of the family have died from alcohol abuse. My dad has been sober for 12 or 13 years now. I am 27 years old and have seen this in the family. My sister and cousin, my uncle and an aunt are dealing with addiction. It is everywhere in the family.

I’m real religious; heavy into church. I believe in repentance. There should be a window for change.

My story is one of hereditary disease. Not to give myself an excuse though because what I did was a choice.

Before I had knowledge of my disease, my first encounter was having my dad watching me when I was 2 months old and he overdosed on cocaine. My sister and mom walked in on him; he had only been unconscious for 20 minutes or so. He was rushed to the hospital. He survived.

Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve been around alcohol and drugs. My parent gave parties; we had a swimming pool. I remember the parties; people getting real drunk. I thought as a kid that my parents do this and their friends do it and it is cool to party.

When I was ten years old we moved to a new subdivision in Madison – to a bigger house. I got ripped away from all my friends.

At the time, I looked at it as, “How dare you do this?” In the new neighborhood, I needed to meet new friends and didn’t know what to expect. The kids in the old neighborhood all knew me and I couldn’t make up anything. I started at a new school too – I was going into middle school. Some of the kids I went to school with frightened me. I had to make new friends and meet new people. Most of those kids had been together in elementary school. There were older kids. I had three sisters; no older brother to look up to. My dad was gone a lot. I felt alone.

That led me into first smoking weed to escape. Weed allowed me not to have a terrified feeling. I was just laughing and giggling; I didn’t have to think about anything. I had no cares in the world other than being found out by my parents. Weed was an escape to where I did not have to feel humiliated or embarrassed. I was shy to talk to girls or I felt I wasn’t tough enough. There were macho guys who wanted to fight. I smoked about three times a day to stay who I was. If I could have smoked every day, I would have. I started weed in 7th grade and did it more in 8th grade. As a kid you don’t have a lot of money to get drugs. I did not get into alcohol early because it tasted bad. I was pretty much a young teenage pot head from ages 13 to about age 16.

It was instilled in my head that my dad’s money was his, so I started shoveling driveways when I was 10. I had a paper route when I was 12. I worked at McDonalds. Working was pretty consistent as a teen. It was clear to me that I would have to work. The seed of being a hard worker was planted.

I hated school, but sports were important to me.

Getting my mind out of the now was what I was about. I had a low self esteem. I did not hear positive things from my dad. I look up to him now. He was drinking then. He was an a**hole. I did not like him. I would get a punch in the head. I beat myself up about that. Why even try? What makes it so I don’t feel like this?

The people I smoked weed with did not nag me. We dealt with similar problems, like nagging parents. We just wanted to be left alone.

I had gotten arrested for stealing in middle school. For theft. I learned how to steal from a kid on the basketball team. I thought that was cool. I did it regularly. I was getting cocky with it and got arrested. They held me and took me downtown. When my dad got home, it wasn’t pretty.

Even uglier was the first time I got caught selling weed. I was still in middle school. The kid I sold it to got caught and told his mom where he got it. My dad beat me, badly. I was terrified at first but after getting beaten up, I was pissed. I wanted to kill the kid I sold it to. I was pissed that I couldn’t fight my dad; I wasn’t big enough at the time.

For a split second I thought I might have done wrong, but then I felt, “Screw it.” I had that mentality going into high school.

Mom always gave me unconditional love. I took that for granted. But I wanted it from other people – my dad and other people. A teacher might have been able to step in when I was in about 6th grade, but not in high school. I was too set in my ways by then.

It was the same pattern of using weed, until about sophomore or junior year in high school. Then I tried alcohol and, for the first time, understood what alcohol could do for me that weed couldn’t. That first time I got drunk, I threw up. But I remember thinking, “Wow, this is it. I like this even more than weed.”

I had found something else. From that point, as often as I could in high school, I was drinking. I drank through my junior year and even more my senior year. There were occasional fist fights. I felt I had to show the other kids how tough I was. It was part of selling. Everyone was testing each other to see who was the bigger bad-ass. At least that is what I felt.

I got kicked out of the house for over a month for drinking before my parents said I could come back. I did not go to school that month and I began experimenting with other drugs. I wanted to know what coke or ecstasy was like. I tried all kinds of drugs other than heroine. Heroine just wasn’t available; it was not something people had then like it is now. I did not do meth until I was in the Army.

I barely graduated from high school, but I did. I was one of those kids who thought they knew everything after high school. I had some money. It was party, party all the time. I moved out of my parent’s house. There was no thinking about consequences.

I had been to jail a couple of times during high school and was on probation. I was out of high school in June and joined the Army in January. I talked to a friend who was just out of boot camp who sold me on the military even more than the recruiter. I was thinking of getting some discipline, getting away from Madison and my parents.

And I could tell the judge I was going to do something – join the military. The judge said he wanted to see my orders.

I announced it to my family around New Years and it was a complete shock. Within a month I was gone.

I knew at the time I was running away from my problem. I knew I wasn’t dealing with the issues; I just wanted to be independent.

I joined in January of 2001 and I actually felt free at first. I grew up with a hard father so the drill sergeants were actually a step under.

There was no drinking – four months of sobriety in basic and advanced training. It was a dry time. But there was also a lot of pent up need. My third day after getting back, I went out drinking. I got through “home town recruiting” back in Madison. I felt I had to prove myself to old friends and show off for the girls or whomever. Macho bravado. I had more money than I had ever saved up before.

But then I decided to go to a guy who thought he was going to buy weed from me. I went there with the intention of robbing him. I beat him badly. I got sent to jail. Most of my Army signing bonus went to pay court costs. When that happened, I was thinking, “I just got out of boot camp and I was already screwing up.”

I wasn’t dealing with any emotions I had. No attention to relationships with girls or with my family.

When I got to my reporting station, someone screwed up there too on the paperwork, so I did OK and stayed in the military.

The Army is another culture shock. You are making these friendships but they aren’t based on the truth. Everyone was just trying to make themselves look better than they were. I was again trying to prove that I was somebody. It finally came to a crashing halt about 2 years in when I was smoking weed again and drinking more. I got caught on a dirty UA; I got dropped down one rank. That really hurt my pride. I knew I had done something wrong. But my attitude was, “I don’t deserve this.” I stopped caring and started drinking more and not being the good soldier I was the first two years. That persisted until I got kicked out – four days before I was to get out after four years of duty. They got fed up with me and my actions. I would get drunk and totally disregard orders from higher ranking men. The discharge was their way of sticking it to me.

That snowballed into poor me again. I had bitter feelings about the Army. I cashed in my military vacation time and had money. For the next month, it was party time. I looked for old drinking buddies. That was what I was doing. I was staying with my parents at the time. They sat me down and said, “You either go to school or get a good job or you will be kicked out.”

I took the second choice. I was working, making about $20/hour. There were periods in my life when I would take breaks from drinking but I never thought of not drinking. I knew it was a good job and I felt I had things under control. It was a second shift job from 2 to 10pm. There was a group of us who worked together and what to do at 10 other than drink? No hangovers because I did not have to work until 2pm the next day. This is when I started using cocaine again. When the alcohol was about gone, we wanted the party to keep going so drugs were the answer. It kind of got to be a norm. That was off and on the whole summer of ’05.

That carried until October of ’05. I had a good job, was partying and doing dope. I was saving a lot of money and I looked like “the man.”

That all changed one night in the end of October when I was drinking and doing Ecstasy. A lot of Ecstasy. For some reason I thought it would be fun to play with the gun I had. At first it was driving around shooting out the window of the car. We got back to my house ad I can’t remember what I was thinking exactly except that just wanted to keep shooting the gun. I did not realize it was loaded. I started messing around and pointed it at my friend. I said, “I’m not going to shoot you, I not going to shoot you. The gun isn’t loaded.”

I put the gun up to my cheek and pulled the trigger. I shot myself through my cheek. The bullet passed through my head and the 40 caliber hollow head bullet lodged just below my eye socket. My friends called 911 and freaked out. They ran away and left me there.

I woke up in the hospital. I woke up thinking, “This is a really bad dream.” I’ve had lots of bad dreams, so I went back to sleep. It was the same the next time I woke up. I thought, “I do not like this dream.”

When I put the pieces together as to what happened; I was terrified. I couldn’t talk for the first four days in there. I just wanted to talk; to ask, “How in the world did this happen?” I did not intend to commit suicide. People may have thought I was involved in a robbery or trying to hurt myself. I wasn’t.

I was in the hospital for 8 or 9 days and I was in the rehabilitation for another month or so. My job deemed the gunshot an accident and I went back to work.

For some reason I had this need to get away again. I was so embarrassed by the fact that I had shot myself. I had not resolved the problem. A lot of people knew this was a real problem. But no one could tell me anything.

I quit my job in January and went to Florida just to get away. I stayed down there for a few months. I had a lot of money but in a few months of drinking and smoking down there, I blew about $2500 or more in less than two months. I started to realize my pockets were not getting any bigger. I was down to $5000 or $7000 dollars so I went back to Wisconsin and moved in with my parents. I did not claim any responsibility. All I wanted to do was drink or do drugs – to escape any feelings I had. I was disgusted with who I had become. That was 2006.

I ended up getting kicked out of the house again.

I wasn’t trying to do anything productive with my life. I found someone I could sell drugs with. We got a house. We rented from a guy because we did not want our names on a lease.

I didn’t really want to live at the time. But I did not want to die either. So I just numbed myself. I did not know what else to do. It was big time depression.

Selling felt good. Once again, I was one of the guys that people come to. I have always had a rewarding feeling that people could come to me to borrow a gun or get drugs. That was acceptance for me. I never tried to achieve acceptance through love or friendship or caring. It was always through, “What can you offer?” Same old story. Drinking all night and sleeping all day. I eventually started selling less and using more. My money started dwindling away again.

Then I met this one girl and started spending more time with her. I realized I could live at her place without paying rent. My friend and I had an argument. I robbed someone he knew and then we split ways. I moved in with the girl and that did not change anything about drinking and drugs. I barely had to pay rent.

I slowly realized I couldn’t sit around and do nothing all day. Even smoking and drinking all day was too hard. I was wasting space; that is how I felt. Right around the same time I learned I was going to be a dad. Then it hit me that I had to get off my butt and get a job. I did not claim full responsibility for growing up with drugs and alcohol, but I knew I had to bring in money. I finally got a job in late January of 2007. It was good money and hours. I started working regularly and getting good overtime. I was scared out of my mind about having a kid. My daughter was born July 12, 2007.

My ambitions were high. I was ready to move forward. I started college at Blackhawk Tech then too. Drinking slowed but when I did drink, it was binge drinking. Binge drugs. Everything was binge. I thought I deserved to go all out when I did use, because I was using less. I was a full-time student, with a new baby girl. School was going good but I got tired of working because I start smoking weed again.

My job was what went. My reasoning was that I was a full-time student and I felt I deserved some time off. Between work and school, I was getting 6 or 7 hours of sleep in each 72 hour period. The day I did not have to work I would sleep 12 hours. We decided my girl friend should work and I would be a stay at home dad, and student. She did not want to do that, so I started selling drugs again. I got in light at first. I was now networked in Madison and Janesville. In my eyes there is nothing wrong with this because I was in school full-time. Bills had to be paid.

That continued until the summer of 2008. I got arrested in June with about 80-some ecstasy pills and bagged up weed and a 22 pistol. I spend five days in jail and was facing three different felony charges.

My immediate reaction was there is no way I am going to get out of this. Complete panic. Luckily I put up $4000 for a lawyer. Once again I stopped using, only because I was scared out of my mind. I thought I was going to prison for a while. I had spoken to people who told me you are looking at a couple of years of prison. I had hope that if I could prolong this, I could finish my Associate’s Degree. I was just trying to think of something positive. I was upset because I couldn’t spend time with my daughter. I was really hurt because I felt I had let my daughter down. I knew time was going to be taken away. I started school again in the third semester. Through all this, I felt disgust and disappointment in myself. My only escape again was drugs and alcohol. I did not know how to stop even then.

But I made it through the semester with good grades.

It was getting close to my sentencing date. My lawyer said I could serve anywhere from 3 months to 2 years. I was terrified and depressed and pissed off and all these feelings. That Christmas break, it was hurry up and medicate with alcohol and drugs because I was not going to be able to do it for a long time.

Three days before the sentencing date, I tried to get as drunk and as high as I could. I did not care if I got caught. I felt like telling the judge that I did not know what to expect or what was coming and there is nothing positive about looking forward to going to prison.

But I think I had a spiritual awakening that day. In court. January 21, 2009.

I was just listening to the DA tell about my batteries and how I was a nuisance to society. It was a five-minute speech. It was such a hopeless feeling; it was like an out-of-body experience. I knew that I was gone that day – to prison. I was scared out of my mind. I wanted to hurry up and get it over with. But I also remember knowing the judge was going to let me speak. I had one semester of school left and maybe the judge would hear me.

My lawyer was stuttering and was ruining it for me. He was nervous. I was so pissed. I was thinking I always prayed before – never sincerely. But I was that day.

I was as straight forward as I could be with the judge. I said, “Everything the DA said was true; I had all these things in the past. I can’t make any excuse for all the negative consequences I have caused for myself and people around me. I said I was trying to do the right thing. I told him about my daughter and drugs and school and one more semester. No matter what happens, I told him, I promise you will never see me in here again, no matter what you decide to do today.” I about stated to cry.

The judge began asking me questions and he was, like, alright, I’ve reviewed this. 1 year in jail -- 6 months in Huber and 6 months in TAP (Treatment Alternative Program). I was in disbelief; it was the best I could have hoped for.

I made a promise with God and myself – this is my last chance.

The judge made it very clear, saying, “I heard what you said but if I see you in my court room again it won’t be a question of going to prison, it will be for how long.”

That was it. I have been sober and clean since. I am sober six months.

Now I am learning how to deal with my problems and how to live life on life’s terms. I deal with problems as they come up and not hide behind a bottle. There have been bumps in the road but it feels great waking up every day and knowing what happened the day before. It has been a rebuilding year for me. They let me finish out my school. I graduated May 20 and went to jail on May 21.

This isn’t me getting away and still needing to pay for what I did. Now I get out there. I am an example. I take that seriously.

There were temptations, but I got into doing what I know works – church, surrounding myself with positive people. There is still some wreckage of the past but it isn’t nearly as bad as I had made it out to be. It is like they say, one day at a time. I am grateful for today. Don’t focus on the regrets of yesterday or the fears of tomorrow.

I have found that I spend lots of time on the phone talking with someone. I need to be with people. Today things that used to be important are not any longer. My life is more centered on helping other people as best I can. I spent too many years hurting others; it is time to make up.

SARAH JANE (not her real name)

I started drinking when I was 11 after my parents got divorced; it was the summer I was going into 6th grade. I drank 6th through 8th grades away. What I remember from those years is Caribbean Rum. We had it in the house; drinking was a lifestyle. My family was a beer distributing family; Brandy Slushes were part of family pattern. I did not know the drink had alcohol in it. Me and my friends all drank. I was dating a high school senior when I was in 6th grade. The people I was with were in high school and they protected me. My mom has an addictive personality; she did not try to control me. I started to get conniving and saw how to hurt and manipulate people. I never had people or the cops after me. I‘ve never had any police contact; I was one of those people who could make any one do anything. That made it that much easier and more fun to drink. I started on pot. I got pregnant at 17 and stopped drinking while I was pregnant. I am that person who won’t break the laws but drugs were different. I stopped drinking and smoking when I was pregnant. I loved drinking because it was legal; I wasn’t breaking the law.

The twins were both born. They died at 5 days and 3.5 days.

After they died, I found a guy and we drank daily. It was OK to drink and so we started early in the morning.

I got pregnant again and was clean while pregnant and for several months after my son was born. After I lost the baby weight I drank heavily again.

Bar hopping was the best thing. I gave my son to his dad and went out drinking. I did things I shouldn’t have done but I was conscious enough to do them. I was becoming broke very quickly. I started to strip and do fetish porn’s. All I had to do was get liquored up. No one ever explained drinking to me; I was very naïve. It got really bad last year in August. I moved to Stoughton and lived alone for the first time in my life. I was so proud to do that but I was too lonely. The bars became my friends. Last year in December I had my first blackouts. My boyfriend would film us and I would have no memory of the things on the film. I did not know what a black out was. More information was good.

My son wouldn’t drink water because he thought it was a mommy drink – Vodka. We did not have Easter last year; I did not know it was Good Friday and dropped my son off at school, in the dark. He sat there for three hours before someone brought him home. You are so out of it and out of control. Something bonks you on the head. That is what people need.

My drunk is done. I had no thought of I should have gone out with a bang. You will know when you are ready. I was done. I couldn’t force myself; no one could tell me not to drink. I would set the alarm for 4:30am and do a quarter of a liter of Vodka before taking my son to school.

I went to Meriter and they put me on meds and no one explained anything to me. No one explained to me what would happen and what it meant. I relapsed with mouthwash. I saw on the TV show, Intervention, that it had alcohol in it so I drank a whole bottle. I did not get high and feeling good but it made me really sick.

I am on Medical Assistance so Connections Counseling was the last place I called. I have 198 days [sober] today.

Someone told me, “You never have to feel like this again.” That was so empowering. I say that to myself every day. I am very optimistic; you can only do what you can when you are supposed to. My god will only send thing to things to me to help me grow.

I had breast cancer twice; I want to live life and be a friend and a mother and a daughter. My son is proud of me but sometimes he jokes around and says “Cheers.” I am with my 3 year old daughter all day long; I have lost some connection with my son. He says he wants more mommy-time. He is going to counseling to show him why I wasn’t there for him. He sees the difference. Once I stopped drinking, I deleted all the numbers from my cell phone. You go to AA, get a sponsor, get a group, and you surround yourself with all of them.

I have no regrets. I have cravings still. But I got frightened enough to stop because I realized I was moving toward death. This cannot be done alone. I was afraid there was no where I could get in for treatment but Connections let me in. The people here are my family.

LUCY (not her real name)

My story of alcohol abuse begins about 1990, near the end of a very abusive marriage. I was going to be a single mom with three small kids. I was self-employed as a family daycare provider and I was scared to death that I was going to lose my house and, therefore, my only source of income. Plus, I was tormented by the thought of changing jobs and putting my kids in daycare.

Drinking was the only way I knew how to cope with my situation since I had seen my father drink himself into oblivion at the end of each day due to the stress of his job. As a kid (one of five; 2nd to the youngest), I remember trying desperately to wake up my dad at 11:00 or midnight after he passed out in front of the TV and get him to bed – always to no avail. Because of my parents’ drinking and bickering, we would not eat dinner until usually 7 or 8 or even 9pm. We never knew. By the time we ate, we were all super hungry and pissed off and both parents were drunk.

As it turns out, I married a guy very similar to my father – alcoholic, addicted, emotionally unavailable, indifferent, and insensitive; and someone who was sure to abandon me. This was all very familiar to me and I was comfortable with that kind of situation. I did not like it, but it was familiar.

As a kid, the feelings I’d express would be invalidated and I was told that I shouldn’t feel the way I was feeling. I learned to ignore my feelings and let other people decide how I was supposed to feel; stuffing the ignored feelings way deep inside.

These stuffed feelings would eventually manifest themselves and get expressed in some pretty inappropriate behaviors and relationships. My threshold for emotional pain was off the charts. Self-loathing, feeling insecure and depressed were the way I spent my childhood, adolescence, and early to mid-adulthood years. It’s as if I lived in “self-destruct” mode most of my life. I used to purposely injure myself or pretend to be sick to get attention. It seemed it was the only way anyone would pay attention to me in a kind or compassionate manner.

I remember when I took my first drink. I was 13 and was at my older brother’s wedding rehearsal dinner. My older brother bought me a Slow-Gin-Fizz. It tasted really good and it made me feel good. I felt so good that I stood up on a chair and toasted everyone. It was hilarious and everybody seemed to like me. They thought I was funny. I even remember what I was wearing that night…

This was the beginning of a very long drinking career. I drank through high school and college because it was fun and it was the best entertainment my friends and I could come up with. It was a cheap high and, after all, who could turn down dime taps at Lucky’s?

Fast forward to 2001; I went to my first AA meeting at the urging of a friend. This was after drinking had become a daily obsession and I looked forward to the relief from feeling anything. By this time I had switched from beer to, first, Southern Comfort, and then Vodka. I drank alone at home because I could justify it as being cheaper and safer. Once I started hiding my bottles and how much I drank BEFORE I went out with friends… well, looking back, those are the red flags. That is when drinking wasn’t for fun anymore. I had a growing need to have it.

I didn’t know anything about AA and I thought everyone who went to the meetings and talked about how good life was for them had everything figured out and their lives didn’t include any suffering; much less, the thought of needing a drink when things got rough. They had to be smarter than me; after all, they had stopped drinking and knew how to live their lives perfectly (compared to mine). Why shouldn’t I listen to what they said and do what they told me to do? I listened when they told me I was a crazy alcoholic tornado who went roaring through people’s lives and left a path of destruction. Well, I already felt horrible about myself and didn’t need that kind of information. A lot of what was said in AA did not suit me very well. I didn’t seem to be getting the answers I so desperately needed. I would relapse often and feel so ashamed of myself. The shame would add to the pain I was already experiencing. I wanted to numb that pain on top of numbing the pain I’d carried with me most of my life. In all honestly, the AA meetings I went to in my town were fairly detrimental to my recovery process. I know that all meetings are not the same, however.

Along the way I joined a “sober” motorcycle club since AA suggested that I do the things I like with other sober people. I had a Harley and wanted to ride, so this seemed like the best way to get what I wanted and needed. I was SO wrong. The motorcycle club was a bunch of Hell’s Angels wannabes. It was a nightmare; a very, very bad experience that I would never ever tell anyone to get involved in. They’d hurt you before they would EVER help you. It was a good lesson for me, however.

Back to AA. It seemed that there was a lot of focus on how we had messed up; lots of desperation, despair, fear, confusion, self contempt, self pity, loneliness and talk about how we are all a bunch of “egomaniacs with inferiority complexes, ruling the world from a high chair.” Plus, there are 13th steppers who go to meetings looking for a boyfriend/girlfriend which is totally inappropriate.

A sponsor of mine once told me that, “I better get my act together because no one (meaning a man) would want me the way I am.” GREAT!! A crushing blow from someone who is supposed to be helping me. That’s the kind of language that is all too familiar in my sad world.

It seemed as though AA had to break a person down and then build them back the ONLY right way – which was the AA way. If I ever shared with someone from AA that the program wasn’t working for me, I would be told that I wasn’t working the program the right way. All I wanted was to feel good enough about myself to not feel the need to get comfortably numb on a daily basis.

In AA, I’ve heard many times that the person with the gun in their mouth was saved by their higher power and that’s what got them to their first AA meeting. My thought always was, “Your addiction/alcoholism was what led you to put the gun in your mouth. But what led to the addiction or alcohol abuse?”

I never found out what was going on with me from AA. Just that I was told to “take care of myself.” Well, when you are a person like me who has no idea HOW to take care of herself, hearing that kind of advice is pretty useless (except for the person saying it – they surely have to feel good that they’ve come up with a solution to my problem!).

In the Springs of ’06 and ’07, I purposely overdosed twice. I’ve had my stomach pumped and drank a lot of nasty charcoal stuff. The first time I was on suicide watch and the other landed me in the psych ward at the UW Hospital. Due to my intense self-hatred, being over-sensitive and black and white thinking, I felt worthless, inconsequential and all alone.

In December of ’08, I was arrested for DUI. My now former sponsor told me, “You’d think that the two visits to the hospital would be enough of a wakeup call to quit drinking.” Obviously, it wasn’t. At the time of my arrest, I was working two full-time jobs and one part-time job in anticipation of my mortgage rate being scheduled to adjust in January of 2009. Again, I was afraid of losing my house and was doing everything in my power to save it.

So there I was, handcuffed to a bench at the police station, extremely humiliated, disgusted with myself and feeling more worthless than ever. The police called my youngest son and told him what happened and asked him to come and pick me up. When he got there, my daughter was with him because someone had to drive my car home. So we all drove to where my car was. My son drove my car and my daughter drove me home, screaming at me all the way.

I knew that when the local newspaper got wind of what happened, it would be in the paper. I called the editor and begged him not to print anything about it. The day would come, though, when my name would be in the paper for being convicted of a DUI since the local paper uses the court news to sell papers. (It’s more like the National Enquirer – airing people’s dirty laundry, printing inaccurate and exaggerated stories. But I digress…)

Coincidentally, just recently, there was a very serious situation in my house when I should have called the police, but didn’t because I didn’t want it in the paper, so I handled it myself.

Because of the DUI, I ended up at ARC in IOP. ARC is an AODA (Alcohol and Other Drug Addiction) treatment facility in Madison, specifically for women. (IOP stands for “Intensive Out-Patient.”) We meet three evenings each week and are offered Family Therapy plus help with community services by a case manager. The facilitators and my counselor, Robin, have made a huge difference in my recovery by addressing the traumas, abuse, and neglect which are more often than not associated with alcohol abuse and drug addiction. During my first one-on-one session with Robin, I told her about my life up to that point. She looked at me and simply said, “Why would you be any different than you are? This is not your fault.”

Basically that question/statement has saved my life.

Because ARC has the best treatment philosophy I’ve ever heard of, I have hope for a normal life, without alcohol. I had been through treatment twice before ARC and this is the only place that addressed the root causes of me feeling the need to self-medicate.

Not only is ARC forward-thinking, ARC is a very supportive, safe and nurturing place to heal. No one gets kicked out due to an “episode of use,” usually referred to as a relapse. Why punish someone for having symptoms of their disease? If someone was in treatment for depression, would the therapist stop seeing that person if they talked about suicide?

ARC implements a comprehensive biopsychosocial recovery plan aimed at success. An example of this would be teaching us to take care of our health (bio), therapy dealing with past traumas (psycho), forming healthy relationships, setting boundaries and learning to love ourselves (social). We learn healthy coping skills and how to set boundaries among many other things. We learn to avoid avoidable suffering.

In my three months of IOP at ARC, we have had guest speakers from Go Red for Women, which addresses the number one cause of death in women which is heart disease; volunteers from Susan G. Komen For The Cure talking about breast cancer, and a woman from A Women’s Touch who explained about what healthy sex is. This one was particularly helpful in addressing the issues of sexual trauma -- whether it is incest, sexual abuse, rape or prostitution.

90% of the women in our group have had some sort of sexual trauma which is definitely a precursor to some sort of addiction. These and other valuable segments are aimed at teaching us how to take care of ourselves and, for me, this is right on the money since I never knew how to take care of myself. I have NEVER put me first. We also do lots of healing activities and have plenty of spirited discussions about alcohol abuse and addiction and all of them – 100% -- have been helpful and healing. I look forward to going to ARC and miss it when I can’t be there.

The disease of addiction needs to be addressed for what it is and not just serve to label and condemn people who suffer from addictions. The stigma is so overwhelmingly negative; many people are afraid to seek out the help they need. Focusing on the negatives of the past perpetuates negative behavior since addictions, when left untreated, get worse over time. It would be highly beneficial for society to accept addiction as a disease that needs to be treated and not make it an issue of willpower. Addicts and alcoholics are sick people who need to get well, not bad people who have to be punished. Addiction is the only disease you get yelled at for having. There’s way too much ignorance, out-dated, backward thinking and old-fashioned ideas about alcohol abuse and addiction.

Basically, what it comes down to is this: The question that needs to be asked is not, “What’s WRONG with you?” but, “What has HAPPENED to you?” These questions dictate behavior thought processes and responses to triggers of previous traumas. Alcohol abuse and drug addiction are only symptoms of much deeper problems. It takes time and work to get to the underlying causes of feeling a need to numb feelings “for no apparent reason.” It’s not a one-size-fits-all disease and there is not a one-size-fits-all solution. At ARC, they recognize that everyone is different and we are all treated as such.

I see light at the end of the tunnel and am not ashamed to be me anymore.

DANA

I grew up in a family where we worked very hard.

My father built the family businesses from nothing; he had an eighth grade education. It was hard for my family to understand why we kids turned to drugs and alcohol – we played as hard as we worked. We started smoking pot when we were ten and twelve years old. My brother and I did everything together. I was in 5th grade. I did not have peers doing the same things but my brother did; he was in middle school. Doing the drugs and using alcohol was a way to be accepted by my brother. I was a gateway for other kids to be cool. I was so young and I used. I had access to anything I wanted. I always got straight A’s, National Merit Scholar, homecoming queen, Badger Girls, student senate and class president. I had leads in the musicals and played a big part in the concerts.

We were raised in the late ‘70s and ‘80s and that is when cocaine came to America. Cocaine was my big drug of choice. We would party and drink and get in terrible fights. That was how I started using.

I started dealing cocaine. Drugs were part of my life even when I was working. I always had two jobs and was going to school and played nights. There was no sleep. The drinking was big in those days. I was drunk by 6 o’clock every day. No one noticed because I was the straight A student. “Miss Society.” I lived a secret double life.

I got involved in the JULES GROUP in Middleton because the girl who got killed was like me. She lived a double life. That really hit me. She ODed. That could have been me. No one had a clue what I was doing.

People did not know about the drugs. I liked secrets. It is a big part of addiction. Keeping secrets is a big part of potential for relapse. It is part of the thrill of addiction. It is the fact that nobody knows; I could live this double life and be a queen bee on top and the villain underneath. So much energy went into keeping up my secrets and addiction always took a lot of my attention. But so much more was expected of me. We had seven farms and were raised to cater to the men. When I was ten years old, I was cooking dinner for 12. I had to be top notch, or forget it. We women were raised as second class citizens. We had to do things like get the butter and change the TV stations for the men because they worked so hard. I never could do enough to please anybody. Everybody always wanted more. My addiction helped me stuff my anger and other feelings. I stuffed my feelings about the family deaths with using cocaine and drinking.

I was so sick of the life of cocaine. I had no clue what mental sobriety meant. It is getting rid of the insanity of how you act because you are an addict. I became an addict in my teens; you do not grow any further emotionally after the moment when you become an addict. I was angry. I felt resentment. I struggled with entitlements. Anger is a secondary emotion to fear. I was afraid of things like, “How am I going to pay my bills?” “What is my ex going to do next?” I had so much anxiety I couldn’t work. Cocaine took the edge off the anxiety. I could bury the anxiety. I got really angry. I felt the family should help me get out of this addiction. I resented the fact that my father died and left me alone. I had worked so hard and wasn’t getting what I deserved. I felt entitled, like, “You owe me.”

When I went for treatment at Hazeldon, I told them I needed to learn how to live without reaching out to drugs and how to think like normal people. I went to the 28-day program at Hazeldon and then to Inner Harbor in Florida. It is a twelve-step halfway house for women.

Addicts lose structure in their days. Inner Harbor helped me regain structure. You don’t know what to do with the time when you gain it back after you have spent all your time chasing the drug. I learned how to do a daily plan. I had to learn to structure my day. It is key.

I was not cut any slack in the halfway house. In the Twelve-Step Program, they forced me to realize my part in everything; that I had created the whole mess my life was in though misdirected instincts. You do not know what is best for you in your head. There is a feeling that you do not need to do this. That was my biggest liability. I was trying to do it the Dana-way. The whole world changed for me during this treatment. I was gone for four months. I stuck it out.

After my treatment break-through, the whole world changed for me. It is like everything changes—physical appearance as well as emotional responses. It is like being filled with light when that happens. They took me to the beach and did an ager thing. They let me take a baseball bat and hit the rocks again and again. I beat out everything I was angry about in my life. I broke the bat in half. That opened up all the repressed memories of my childhood. I filled notebooks with things I was angry about. I was crying. I had never cried before, even when my father and brother died. I cried for days and was exhausted. I purged myself of all the crap.

I had to learn to set boundaries, how to talk to people. I had to learn how to function and be an adult. I had to learn to deal with the real world on life’s terms. They started teaching me how to set boundaries. I had to learn to say no to my family; the whole family is sick if one person is sick. They didn’t know how they were affected by my addiction. I saw their lack of trust because, for 25 years, I had lied to them as part of my addiction. My responses are totally different now. I have learned not to lose my temper and be angry all the time. My family is amazed that I am a totally different person.

It is amazing what you see when you are not addicted. Things are beautiful. The fall leaves on the trees are so yellow and orange. The snow is so beautiful. I see things I never saw before. Things. Events. People.

In the song, “The Reason” – by Hoobstank, the lyrics say, don’t get sober for anyone else. I needed my mom to know I was sober in case she passed away. The song was so important to me. I wanted my mom to know that Dana was going to be OK. That song says you are the reason…I found a reason. I copied the words and sent them to my mom.

Even though I was an addict I had self respect. I had a respectable drug habit. I got one OWI in 2004 and I had had only one beer. If I pick up the alcohol, I go to cocaine. I am so connected to the AA community in Madison; they have a great system here.

I plan on staying here – you need to gain mental sobriety to see how your addiction is affecting you. Even if you are not sure you are addicted or an alcoholic if you go through the 12-steps you would be amazed at what you learn about yourself. If everyone went through the 12-steps, we would have a different world. The fourth step asks, “What is your part in this role?” People cannot see that they are part of the reason for what is happening to them.

Drinking in Wisconsin is socially accepted, even as kids. We were accepted among our peers. But we hid our drug use. Pot smoking was not good; you got classified as a pot head. People didn’t know what cocaine was, really. We threw beer parties all the time. The cops would bust them and our parents would come get us. Nothing happened. Drinking was a socially accepted thing. It was as if they said, “They just had a couple of beers; that is not a problem.”

I think this is changing. We are making people aware of the danger; of what happens when you start drinking or using at a young age. I watch my daughter and her friends on Facebook. We need to have hard talks with our kids. We need to be honest about our own experiences with alcohol and drugs. We cannot sweep it under the rug. Our kids need to know everything we know about it. We need to help them through open conversations. We, as parents, need to know where our kids are every second of the day.

We had almost 100 kids at the Saturday Sober Night event. That is awesome!

MARY ANN

I have eleven siblings, Irish Catholic, can you tell? My mother was a tiny woman and my father was an Irish farmer. Their first child was a nun. The nun did not deal with the family alcoholism; she was gone. The second oldest one should have been a priest but he bolted.

The first six children were gone before I was born. I was the third youngest. I was around alcoholics all my life. My parents used alcohol to deal with the stress of all these children, I think. My dad worked every day so I didn’t think his alcoholism was a problem. In fact, growing up, I didn’t even look alcohol consumption as a problem. It was simply a way of life. As I grew up and started dealing with my own situations/problems that I began to realize the affect my parents’ alcoholism had on me. It actually has taken me most of my life to understand what alcoholism does to an individual, and to the lives of people around it.

For a long time, I didn’t recognize that the alcohol was the foundation of many problems. I see it much clearer now and wouldn’t want anyone to live needing a drink to exist.

I feel blessed being born between two brothers. My two brothers and I took care of each other. We did not know there was any other way. You didn’t expect anything or ask for anything. You made what you wanted possible. It is what it is. We nurtured each other (still do to this day) and depended on each other for support and love. My parents did not have the capacity to provide those things…they were busy with each other and their disease.

What if I had had the pleasure of being an only child or the child of non-alcoholics? Would I be different? Probably. But as a highly successful, grounded individual who has a desire to do the best I can, I really don’t have any complaints. My life is what it is and what is was. I learned so many lessons at an early age. I have few expectations from others and that has served me well. Now that I have children, I recognize that I give them way too much. Was it a result of the way I was brought up? I don’t know. I cannot imagine not having any struggles? How do you learn? How do you appreciate food on the table? In fairness to my situation, I had so many siblings and I could look to them for my needs. They are, for the most part, successful but I clearly see the results of having alcoholic parents and the impact it had on each of us in the family.

I started drinking when I was 12 or 13 years old because it was what was available particularly because I lived in Madison.

It was the social scene. I didn’t know any differently. In Madison, alcohol is available everywhere. There are drink specials and so many bars. So much of what goes on here is centered around alcohol. In some respects I am lucky because my parents were alcoholics and so I knew the other side. I knew the embarrassment, the fear. That is why I never got in trouble. When we were drinking; I did not go home. I would go to someone else’s house. My parents wouldn’t have rescued me and I knew I would pay dearly if I got in trouble. I had to stay in control. My siblings and I have talked about the drinking. We never knew what state of mind we would find when we came home. You learn not to depend on your parents because of their alcoholism. Everyone I knew was drinking. Having fun meant getting drunk, acting happy and carefree. We drank for every football game and at the beer tents at local festivals. It was what you did. I graduated from high school when I was 17. My entire senior year – from age 16 to 17 – all of my friends did the same thing. We went to bars every time we could. We talked and partied and danced. I was out on my own at 17. In my family, you took care of yourself as soon as you could.

Everywhere I go there is alcohol and truly it scares me.

It is so prevalent here. People see no other way. It is uncomfortable if you don’t drink. People use wine as a social thing; it is good for your blood pressure, they say. If you have to have a glass of wine at the end of the day, there is a problem.

Initially my parents only drank beer. At some point, I remember my mother drinking Brandy.

My dad worked hard and would get home from work at 3:30 or 4pm. My mother would assess his mood and the first thing she would do is hand him a beer. By 8pm -- 12 beers later -- you didn’t want the phone to ring. They would get angry. They were very enabling of each other. They expected the older kids to take care of the younger kids. We were always expected to contribute to the household. This interaction resulted in lots of issues for me. One of my older sisters took on the role of “mother” to me, and as we have aged, the burden of the decision has been very difficult for me. We have kids the same age today, but she can still treat me like a child. I sense her disapproval in me, for lots of reasons, but also jealousy. I have paid a price for her role and I didn’t ask her to take on the responsibility. It was always be a part of our relationship. My parents are now deceased and it appears that their problems have gone away. But I see their behavior in other family members. I don’t wish that on anyone but I also do not have the energy to deal with it in others. It is a tough road.

You didn’t talk about your feelings; now it is almost cool to have a problem with alcohol or drugs. This whole rehab thing – there isn’t the stigma.

We grew up next to The Bush in Madison.

There were a lot of large families in that Italian neighborhood. Our family was put up on a pedestal. Because of the whole Catholic culture and my sister being a nun, we were revered. “Look at those wonderful children,” people would say to my parents. My parents had the appearance of fine people and they were. They just had problems. We lived across the street from the priest and nun’s homes. We cleaned the nun’s home. When I’d leave the house, I would have to assess if the nuns needed errands run – whether to let them see me or not. My father was an usher in church, regardless of what had happened Saturday night. Our house was immaculate because we children cleaned. My friends did not know there was an alcohol problem in the house. I just lived in this bubble and constantly worked around my parents’ addiction.

One of my older sisters was a highly functioning alcoholic; she had three beautiful children who now have children. She and her husband were both alcoholics; she died before he did –she at 60 and he at 62. I have had lots of conversations with one of her daughters about that; she was a positive parent despite the fact that she was an alcoholic. She was a career woman before her time and the pressures got to her. Alcohol was so easily accessible as a remedy. One day, she had to have that drink. She looked terrible at 60 and the disease really took its toll. I think alcohol is harder on a woman.

I’ve never thought about the genetic connection. I am 55 and I drink but never get out of control. Even at a young age, there was always control. I never got stupid. My own kids tell me what goes on today. These kids drink – holy buckets. There are so many fru fru drinks. These kids go out – my son just got married – my daughter-in-law had a bachelorette party and the drinks were the size of basketballs. It was hard for me to judge; I basically look the other way. They are adults. My sons both know I am very sensitive about it. They don’t want to hear about my upbringing. They put up with me but they don’t really care. It is a different time. It isn’t bad. It is just, “Oh, Mom.”

One of my sisters has lost connection with the whole family. She has aged because of the alcohol intake – this young woman is so uncomfortable in her own skin. She has two children who have no social skills and the little girl is growing up too fast. The husband is also an alcoholic but he is the nicest guy in the world. You can see her health problems; she is so uncomfortable. She is a sloppy drunk. You cannot follow what she is saying. She has done enough things that people don’t want to be with her when she is drinking. In spite of this, she is functional at work. It appears she is well liked. She was born when my mother was a full-fledged alcoholic, so she had to be born with fetal alcohol syndrome.

So many people have so many issues, where do you start and stop? You have to want to help yourself. Who am I to judge?

I lived in Madison until I was 20; from the age of 21 to 45 I lived in Milwaukee. There is a big difference between Madison and Milwaukee cultures. I am thankful I raised my kids in Milwaukee. Madison doesn’t have the cultural diversity Milwaukee does. In Madison everyone is just the same.

In Madison, if you don’t party, you have nothing else to do.

Why didn’t I succumb to alcohol? I feel really lucky. It would be so easy to be on the other side. It is so easy to fall prey to alcoholism. It is such a handy excuse. It takes a lot of guts to say no. It is easier to go along with the crowd. I never did drugs; I only drank beer. I never got into the drug culture. I was around it but I never did. I would be terrified to do drugs, I hear you do it once and you are addicted. I must have control issues.

I remember when I was 16 years old and the nanny to my sister’s kids – the one who died of alcoholism. Her sister-in-law was also living in the house. She was a second shift nurse. She was 18 or 19 and when she came home from work at 11pm and we would go out to the Shuffle Inn. She couldn’t go out on a date without drinking a six-pack of beer. After I met my husband-to-be, she felt lost and she started drinking heavily. One night I came home with my boy friend. She was beyond drunk. I said, “Oh, you haven’t even gone out yet and you are a mess.” She was just getting started. What do you do? I have a boyfriend and she doesn’t. Someone knocks on the door – her sister comes in the house and she is pushing the Bible. The sister talks to her about God. She will not stop. Her sister is falling-down drunk. I finally said, “Everyone stop. You leave.” The sister says, “If she could only find God, she could stop drinking.”

I had rescued her so many times. I would get calls from her. She would say, “I don’t know where I am, come and get me.” And I would go into work the next week and say, “I had a fine weekend.” I was more concerned that I was leaving her without a boyfriend. I heard from her recently – she is no longer drinking. But her children have major issues; likely from fetal alcoholism.

The answers are never simple. Even if it appears to be. There is so much more involved. As a result of my parents’ alcoholism, I am always assessing.

I can spot alcoholics a mile away because I know a pattern of behavior. I have lots of friends who are highly functioning alcoholics.

I have another sister who doesn’t drink a drop. She hates alcohol so badly. If you drink one beer, she says you are an alcoholic. The world is black and white to her. That too, is a crutch to bear.

Sometimes I think I am just out of energy to help others. You just enclose yourself and say, “Thank God I didn’t do it.”

Many times, my father did not put food on the table because he put beer and cigarettes in the refrigerator. There was always beer in the refrigerator but oftentimes there was not food.

When I moved to Milwaukee with my husband, we had trouble renting an apartment because we were from Madison and it was felt we would be partiers.

The freshmen drink beer and the upper classmen drink wine. It has become trendy. And then you move to martinis. Come to Madison to have a good time. It is such a way of life here.

DONNA TARPINIAN

Stoughton Coalition to Prevent Adolescent Alcohol Abuse

Donna is involved with the group working to prevent underage drinking in Stoughton. She has two kids, ages 14 and 16.

They are great kids and have made good choices. They don’t drink and their friends don’t drink. I have tried hard to thoughtfully raise my kids and help them make good choices.

My husband and I did not make good choices in high school; we were drinkers. As we became adults and productive citizens we realized that we were fortunate to have made it out without problems.

I remember my son made me a Mother’s Day card when he was in kindergarten. He was too little to print so asked his teacher to write, “I hope you have a nice Mother’s Day. This is a picture of you with a glass of wine watching Lifetime Television.” What? That wasn’t me! Where did that come from?

I have been on this quest to understand; mainly to make sure I get my kids out of high school and adolescence without something bad happening to them.

As I get more involved and read and hear things, I also worry about the kids in the community I live in. I think my concern has moved beyond just my kids to teens in general. It is hard for kids whose parents don’t model appropriate behavior. They may get their kids involved in sports to keep them out of trouble and then they go to a tournament out-of-town and after the game, the parents are sitting around a 12-pack of beer, laughing and socializing. Kids absorb a lot in that 8, 9, 10 year old group. They learn that this is how you socialize.

I think I am just a regular person; there are lots of people like me, especially here in Wisconsin. Alcohol has become so much a part of our culture that we don’t realize it. I lived out of Wisconsin for twenty years and learned that it is different here.

When my husband and I were first out of college we moved to the Washington D.C. area. We met new people and learned that their entertainment didn’t come from the same sources (drinking) that ours did. My joke is that when I asked for a Brandy Seven in Washington, they did not know what it was. We were around a lot of other people our age – newly out of college. We were talking about what they did in high school for fun and it was obvious they did not do the same things we did. Drinking was not the focal point of their gatherings.

Another thing I realized living in northern Virginia was that places selling alcohol had to get 50% of their revenue from food sales. Where are the bars, I wondered? They don’t have any – not in the way we have bars in Wisconsin.

I have a friend from Cuba City, Wisconsin. The small downtown has three bars and they are called something like First Bar, Middle Bar and the Other End. That is Wisconsin alcohol culture.

A beer here or there isn’t bad when you have a healthy relationship with alcohol and you don’t need to have it. Yes, it is easier to meet up with people and be relaxed when you have a drink. But you need to know when to stop. I look at friends who never left Wisconsin and see what some of them are doing now is drinking, drinking. Sadly, we have little in common and alcohol is the reason.

Like so many Wisconsinites, the stories of alcohol harm are personal. Donna talked about three people.

1. My husband’s 15 year old sister was killed by drunk driver on old Highway 51 near Halverson’s Restaurant. It was 30 years ago but the impact on the family was devastating and the scar remains as if it had happened yesterday. She was the only daughter out of five kids. She had many friends and was quite athletic. The family had just moved to Stoughton about six months prior to the accident so did not have a lot of support in the community. This made it particularly difficult. She was one of six passengers in the car who were going to a movie. The kids came up the hill and a drunk driver hit them head on. She was the only one who died. The drunk driver lived and went to prison for a short time. Years later, though, he ran into a tree and killed himself. Some in the family think he did that on purpose because he could not live with the accident.

Sometimes, when I’ve been introduced to someone in Stoughton that lived here back then, they will ask if I’m related to a teenager with the same last name that was killed in a car accident 30 years ago. They say things like, “I was supposed to go along that night and my mom wouldn’t let me go,” or “I remember that accident.” I’ve even met someone who was actually in the car with her and was seriously injured. It is unforgettable. There are photos of her around the family home. She is 15 in the pictures; her life is frozen in time. We see her friends now. How can they be 45 year olds? They are too old to be Jenny’s friends.

II. A family member is an alcoholic. He has lost his home. He has not worked for a year. He has no money. He has had three relationships, with two marriages that ended in divorce. Through drinking, I think he is trying to take care of something deep inside that hurts. He rarely comes to any family functions and when he does, he stays a short time. He is very angry. Maybe he is resentful that we have managed to be productive…I don’t know. He told us that he had an incurable cancer. But the seizures he was getting were not from cancer. They came from the DTs; from him just trying to cut his drinking cold turkey. He did not want us to take him to the hospital when he was having the seizures but you cannot just sit and watch that. It wasn’t fair to us. He was in and out of consciousness for a week. Then he told the neurologist he had no problems with alcohol. The doctor said, “From your brain scan I can see that you have been drinking for years. There is a white film over your entire brain that is from drinking and smoking – hard living.” Now, there is some permanent damage and disability as a result.

The worst part is he is drinking again. He hasn’t wrestled with the demons he has that make him drink.

I cannot help him but I can help his daughter. She is 13. I try to be supportive and involved. I take her to confirmation; we talk on the phone and send emails.  She invites me to her birthday parties. That is my way of working through this whole thing. I am afraid she may face the same problems – alcoholism is on both sides of her family. She has seen what addiction has done, first hand, and that, along with a good support system and group of friends is all I can hope for. I have decided that is what it takes as a teen – to hang out with kids who are doing well.

III. I definitely drank in high school. Every weekend the question was, “Where is the party?” I regret it now because of all I missed: all the sporting events and dances that I just showed up at briefly. I’d have had a very different experience had I not been drinking. Why did I make that choice?

I had just moved into Stoughton as a freshman and it is a small town. I was an outsider in a small town. When you go to a party and people see you and you are drinking, they think you might be fun. The next Monday, they see you and say, “You were having fun!” It makes you part of a group. That is what did it for me. I always wanted to be accepted by a certain group of people and felt I was when I was drinking. My friends were all drinkers. That goes back to the friend-thing. I heard a mother say recently, “These are the friends my son has been with since he was a little boy. What is he supposed to do, go out and get a whole new set of friends?” My answer -- to myself -- was, “Yes. Exactly.”

I believe you have to be supported by the people around you. You look at all these parents who say, “I drank in high school and I’m fine.” You are right, you did. But there is that chance that you might not have been. And, besides, who wants to say, “I am happy today that I am 90% of what I could have been?”

I didn’t set out to become an advocate against underage drinking. It is hard once you have heard all these things to let it go and not act. I read the book, Smashed: Story of a Drunken Girlhood by Koren Zailckas. I found a lot about myself in the book.

I have to say that that underage drinking scares me to death. I got all of that drinking and partying out of my system while I was in high school. I feel like one of the reasons I made it through that was because I was in a community of people who knew me. My parents were around. I would get caught and grounded.

But what happens to my kids when they go to college and are around youth who don’t know them or care about them? Suppose they are left somewhere and something bad happens. I’ve had very frank discussions with my daughter about drinking and drugs and sex.

The only way to avoid problems is to not be in that situation – now or later.

ELIZABETH & DAVID MYERS

Beth and David told the story of their son, Daniel, who was killed in a drunk driving wreck on August 27, 2008 on Midvale Boulevard in Madison, WI. Throughout the interview, they touched – hands held, a hand wresting on their partner’s knee, an arm resting on shoulders.

My story starts with my family, Beth began. Both my mom and dad were alcoholics. They divorced. I grew up knowing not to drink to excess. I never had anything bad happen to me as a result of the drinking. My brother and other family members are alcoholics; it has always been a sensitive issue to me.

As parents, we were careful to model appropriate behavior to the boys. When our boys were older, we encouraged them not to drink or do stupid things. Chris and Daniel. We were open about designated drivers.

But we might not have been quite strong enough about not riding with drunk drivers. Daniel was a passenger with a drunk driver. The car was going fast on Midvale Boulevard. 90 mph. There is a dip in that road that is not so fun when you are doing 90. The girl’s parents had given her a Saab; they had done all they could to give her a safe car. The driver lost control of the car and it slid sideways into a tree. Our son was brain dead. Everyone in the car was killed. The other boy was driving; not the owner of the car. His blood alcohol was .144. He had no record of driving drunk before that night.

Dan did not have good identification on him because he had just moved home so his address was for his former apartment. And his phone did not have our phone number in it because he knew that number.

The hospital called his brother who was on vacation in California but they would not tell him what was wrong because it was a sibling they were talking to.

Then the hospital called us and a lady told me it wasn’t good. We got to the hospital and I went from thinking that he broke a leg or arm to feeling it was more. I slowly realized he was seriously injured. They talked about doing emergency brain surgery. We gave permission. Then we went to thinking he would be very disabled. And suddenly we realized we would never see him again. Time seemed to pass in an instant and at the same time it seemed like forever. Our family came from Columbus; our other son called and came from California. His wife got them on a plane and they were here before midnight, but not in time. Daniel was dead. August 27, 2008.

He was 22 years old and had just graduated from the University of Wisconsin, Magna cum Laude. He was going to be a concert pianist. He was good; he could have been a great musician. From the time he was 6 years old he wanted to play the piano. He begged for a year before we let him take lessons.

Daniel broke his arm in middle school and he was not allowed to play the violin or piano. It was very hard on him. The bell choir allowed him to play one bell – it the helped his sanity. When the cast came off, the doctor gave him very explicit directions. He could only play 15 minutes on the piano and violin. When we got home, he played furiously for 15 minutes on the piano and when I told him, “No more,” he ran and got his violin and played that furiously for 15 minutes. He was starved for music.

He went to Memorial High School in Madison. He had goofy sense of humor that came out as people told stories at his memorial service. He never quite grew up. Sometimes his humor was that of a 12-year-old boy’s humor and sometimes it was very subtle. When he was 3 or 4 years old, we were driving through the countryside one winter night. There was a lull in the conversation and he turned to his brother and said, “Uncle Rich is in the car behind us.” His brother looked around and asked, “Where?” Daniel said, “Gottcha ya.”

He was in Wisconsin Youth Symphony for 8 years. He especially liked playing 2nd violin because he was right in the middle of the orchestra. He could hear it all.

We had a party for our 25th wedding anniversary and Daniel wrote a piece of music for us. He rarely did that because, for him, the music had to be perfect.

We did not get a recording of his senior recital; he failed to get a copy. He was going to re-record it for us. After he played his recital, there was a feeling of the air being sucked out of the room. Someone near me said, “Oh, wow.” It was like the sound was gone.

There were so many consequences of what happened. When Daniel was about 12, he started working on Rhapsody in Blue. I always wanted to hear him play that with an orchestra some time. The hard part is that we cannot dream for his future anymore.

Daniel was going to spend the summer here and then his plan was to go to Southern Cal or write a Fulbright grant to study in Argentina. There was a composer down there he really liked. That was part of the plan. He was going to have to make some money.

Parents: Tell your kids they don’t have to ride with a drunk driver. Have your family’s phone number in your phone. I told all the kids who came through the receiving line at Daniel’s funeral that they should call us if they were ever with a drunk driver and we would be there. Give your kids hugs every day because you never know.

Our neighborhood is a lesser neighborhood as a result of Daniel’s death. Our neighbors, in the summer, would open their windows and listen to him play the piano. People would come and sit on our front porch, without telling us, and just listen to him play. The neighborhood changed as well when he died.

Now I can only do music one note at a time; I play the bells in our church bell choir, one note at a time. I cannot sing any more, Beth said. I used to play the piano but I don’t anymore, David replied. And I did not play much after he was 10 because he was so much better than I was, even then. I used to play because it helped me when I was stressed. Now it doesn’t.

The accident should not have happened. We believe they just drank at one place—a bowling alley. It should have been clear to someone serving them beer or liquor that they – the driver -- should have been cut off. The police figured out that they had been going down University Avenue at about 100 miles per hour. Then they came back north on Midvale. There was a police car tailing them though the kids may not have known that. It was about 2 o’clock on Wednesday morning.

The kids all had seat belts on. The air bags deployed. But nothing would have saved them.

We were in the ER and a police officer showed up to talk to us. I asked what color the car was since the officer couldn’t tell us what the make was. I was scared to death that our son might have been responsible. But it wasn’t our car. After knowing it wasn’t our car, I could just grieve for myself and the families of the other kids. Our son knew not to drive drunk.

The laws the state is looking at will not change this; this was the first violation for the driver. Changing the culture will change this. It is the only thing that will. But it is absurd that Wisconsin is the only state where your first driving drunk is not a felony. I’m sorry, but drunk driving IS a felony.

A pause in the conversation, then David said, I remember, a few days after Daniel was killed, I said to Beth, “I don’t think I will ever have joy again.” Beth said, “I’ll have joy but I’ll never be joyful. It would be better if Daniel were here so we could tell him about what happened.”

One of the things I thought people did that was very caring was to listen to us. I knew that, as they listened to us, the thought would be in their mind that this could happen to them; to their children.

When I was first talking with people, I wanted to give voice to how awful I felt. People said, I don’t know what to say. That isn’t necessary. The necessary part is just to listen. That is what they did.

Parents: Money isn’t as important as you think it is. I’d give it all up for time with him. We both worked all through the boys’ lives; but it was very clear that the kids came first. That was always the rule. There are reasons I’m not in management – I wouldn’t sacrifice my family for that.

When Daniel was 2 and being potty trained, the way we rewarded him was that he got to play one of the old 45 records I had. It wasn’t candy or food; it was music.

He would kick along with music in utero. Really. One of the earliest photos we have of him is when he was sitting on my lap playing the piano.

He had a tape recorder at that point and he took it everywhere. He discovered that if he pushed a button an adult would come to listen to him. He carried that tape recorder with him all the time; it was his first musical instrument.

One of the things that is the hardest about him not being here is losing his passion for music. Lot of people never get a passion for anything. Music was so important to him; it made him so happy. I would not being willing to sit and play the same measure 50 times to get it just right. But he would. When we had the new action put in the piano, he said, “I want you to make it as unforgiving as possible so if I can play on this one I can play on any piano in the world.” He wouldn’t play for his professors until he had the piece perfect. They would ask, “How can I help you if you already have it perfect?” He loved accompanying people. He filled his time accompanying; he would take on fellow students – he never charged anyone for anything. He would say, “I can’t charge friends” or “I can’t charge her because she is too cute!”

David and Beth are holding hands. Together they say, We would have been hard pressed to make it through without each other. Our pastor asked me to write a poem about hope. He wanted a paragraph to be used in a service. I wrote a poem about despair and desolation and hope, in an odd way. The first weeks after Daniel was killed, other than going to the bathroom and showering, we never left each other’s sides. We were in Cub Foods one day and a song he loved came over the PA system. We just stood in the cat food aisle, holding each other and crying. It was months before I could drive down Midvale Boulevard or listen to NPR classical music. Our church, Orchard Ridge United Church, is amazing with young people, encouraging them to play music.

I have seen other couples who have lost children. It tends to bring them very close together or it blasts them apart. For us, it has brought us closer together, if that is possible.

Even though we are very close, we grieve differently. It is just different. I tended to force myself into looking at things very closely, Beth stated. I needed to be doing things. There are a couple of photos here on the desk that came out immediately. I needed them in front of me to say I could look at his picture. I made duplicates of his last quintet recital and I made copies for all of our relatives that first Christmas. I was more confrontational. I was able to focus on other things long before he was. I was able to sit down and do Sukoko. I knew I had to go back to work eventually and my job is very detailed. I had to be able to concentrate. If you cannot concentrate on a Sudoko, you cannot concentrate at work. It was a test for me. Still today, people ask me, “How are you today?” I answer, “Well.” But under my breath, I say, “As well as can be expected.”

David added. “It was weeks before I could let my mind wander without immediately thinking about Dan. That was very painful. I couldn’t understand that. You find yourself pretending you were the way you were before, but you are not. I hear parents complaining about their kids and think to myself, “But they are still alive; you still have them.”

There were events that would come up. Do we go or not? Going to public events was like getting a colonoscopy. You have to do them because you are not going to progress if you don’t. We go to a support group for people who have lost children. It is called Compassionate Friends. They have taught us that you will never get over it but you will get through it. You will carry it with you always. You have to deal with it.

People who abuse children make me physically ill; how could they do that? I was more forgiving before Daniel’s death, but now not so much.

I don’t drink alcohol at all anymore. Our son, Chris doesn’t either. It would just feel wrong to me. What bothers is that the alcohol industry has targeted children. That bothers me.

One of the things is that Daniel had been drinking that night too. If he had been sober, I don’t know if he would have gotten in that car. Was his judgment impaired? The kids were not making good decisions.

We have no contact with the other parents. I have a hard time…the young man’s mother and brother were at his funeral. They were coming through the receiving line and our son, Chris, said he knew instantly who they were because they were the only other people in the room who were as devastated as we were.

People who knew Daniel knew that he was a very special person. One of the things that happened was that a lot of people gave us money or gave money to the School of Music. We went to the UW Foundation and set up a scholarship fund in Dan’s name. We added some of the insurance money to that. When we went in the first time, we had this pile of money and checks; there must have been 70 or 80 individual checks. The UW Foundation told us that was unusual. It was an indication to us that he had touched a lot of people in his life and people understood the need to help his memory. The money was given out last year and this year. Two violinists. He was an instrumentalist and that is who we give to. We are doing what we can to keep his name going.

Before leaving, we talked about the grand piano that still fills most of the living room. We don’t open the lid over the keys often. We haven’t sold it. The piano is still in place. It will remain part of our lives.

SUE & GRANT TARPINIAN

Sue and Grant Tarpinian’s only daughter, Jenny, was killed by a drunken driver on December 21, 1975. She was 15 1/2 years old. The Tarpinians, with their five children, Jenny, her three older brothers and one younger had moved to Stoughton seven months prior to the accident. They were getting to know neighbors and friends in their new community.

Sue and Grant talked about Jenny 35 years later.

"You would think that after all these years it wouldn’t hurt any more. But it does. It was so useless, so senseless --- she had so much to give." We remember like it was yesterday ---- the phone call every parent dreads, driving past the wreckage, on the way to the hospital, the terrible hours waiting there, the telephone calls to family, first to say there had been an accident and hours later to say she didn’t make it.

The accident happened on the hill near Barber’s Restaurant on Highway 51, north of Stoughton. There were two car loads of kids going into Madison to go roller skating. The first group saw the drunk driver swerving all over the road. They looked back to make sure the second car was OK and it had already been hit. It was a bad stretch of road with blind turns and guard railings. The drunk driver crossed the center line. He hit the kids head on. With the guard rail, there was no place for the kids to escape.

The first car came back and found their friends. The driver was in the hospital from December until April; the other young man was in for about 2 weeks, and in rehabilitation for at least 6 months.  Jenny had been sitting between them in the front seat. The two girls in the back seat had more minor injuries. Jenny had just started dating the young man who was driving. We didn’t worry about him because he drove slowly and cautiously. Someone would ask how long it took to drive somewhere and if the answer was 30 minutes, we knew it would take him about 45 minutes.

It was more than an hour before we found out about the accident. The people in the nearby houses heard the squeal of the brakes and were already on the phone because they knew there was going to be a crash. We understand the drunken driver was waiting to go to court on a previous drunken driving charge but he still had a valid driver’s license.

The other young people in the car were fairly well known; the community rallied around us all. We have stayed in Stoughton. It was a good choice because it would have been too hard to go someplace where no one knew Jenny. At least this way her memory stays alive. We are still in contact with some of her friends, not only from Stoughton, but Freeport and Wisconsin Rapids. Another person was killed there two weeks later. A community group pushed to have the highway by Barber’s Hill relocated. It is safer now. Over a hundred pints of blood were donated in Jenny’s name shortly after the accident-mostly by the young people from the high school.

Jenny was a very good student and fine athlete. She played football with the boys and they would pick her first because she had the double advantage of being such a fast runner and being a girl, so no one wanted to tackle her hard. She was on the track team in eighth grade. She played basketball in Stoughton. I don’t know what got her to go out for basketball but she did and she played quite a bit. There are times when I would ask her why she didn’t take the open shot and she said she would have been embarrassed if she had missed. She was good defensively. She was well liked by all of her classmates even though we had only been in Stoughton a few months. We moved here in May and this happened the Sunday before Christmas. Many of her friends from Freeport, Illinois, and Wisconsin Rapids came to her funeral. She was well liked wherever we went; she had a genuine personality that you could love so much. She did not play favorites.

When we were picking out her casket the ones for young people were pale pink or blue. She was to be buried in the new sweater she had gotten as an early Christmas present. She wanted that sweater so much and we had gotten it for her even though it was too expensive. We told the funeral home director that Jenny wouldn’t be caught in that combination of colors. Fortunately we found a softer green casket.

Grant said, Over the years, I have looked at very little of the information from the accident. We have the documents marked so the kids won’t come on the articles unexpectedly. People recognize the Tarpinian name and want to know if Jenny was related to us. People still remember her.

Sue said, One time I was in Madison and stopped at a grocery store and was writing a check. The young checker was real hesitant and I asked if something was the matter with the check. He said, "I was just thinking, I was a real good friend of the boy who was driving the car when Jenny was killed."

My mom and I were in a store in Stoughton and the clerk looked at my name and said, "Your daughter is…is…is…" I was about to say, "Yes, Jenny was killed." But the woman went on, "…is buried out at the cemetery right next to my little girl." The other person in the store had lost a son. My mom had lost a baby at 9 months. The five of us just stood in the store crying and hugging and remembering and consoling each other.

Something that irked me to no end, Grant said. Two weeks after the funeral, a new regional supervisor at my company told me I could take some time off. I said I’d rather work and keep my mind busy. He was staying at the Sheraton and said I should come and talk about moving the business from Madison to Janesville. He asked, “Does it bother you?” I said, No, it is just going from Madison to Janesville. And he said, “No, I mean, does it bother you that you lost your daughter in that accident?” I was stunned and told him it would bother me forever. Shortly later, I quit the company.

Our sons grew up overnight. I couldn’t bring myself to get to the funeral early to talk to people. One son went to the funeral early and represented us; he talked with the people who came. The kids were so close. They often confided their problems to her and took her advice on many things — girls, clothes, haircuts etc.

We have a big box of all the sympathy cards and articles under her bed. It astounded me how many there were. We still have the same wallpaper in her room. Jenny loved the wallpaper. She added her own décor in there. We painted the trim from yellow to lime green but I am going to return it to yellow because that is how it should be.

We have a collage of photos of Jenny on the wall. There are good pictures of her with everyone, except with her parents. It is the silly little things. In one photo, she is sitting with a "handburger" – she is holding a hamburger bun with her hand in the middle, another with a friend with Easter egg chip fingernails.

She was so good with her little brother. When he got to the age she was when she died, unknown to us, he grounded himself. We did not understand but he explained that he wasn’t going to go out during the week when he was the same age Jenny was at death. He said, "At least nothing will happen to me now."

Jenny was buried on Christmas Eve day. After the service, the organist segued into soft Christmas carols. I said to myself, "Now you have to start thinking about the day-to-day; this part is over."

I worked with the sister of the man who was driving drunk. She and I had to sit down and figure out how we could work together every day. He went to jail for two years and, when he got out, he, himself, was killed riding his motorcycle.

Before she was born, her name was going to be Leslie Joan. But after she was born, we said, "She isn’t Leslie, she is Jennifer Jean -- Jenny." Jenny’s memory lives on. One day, our granddaughter asked her dad, "How come you don’t love me as much as my uncles love their girls?" When he did not understand, she explained, "Two of them have named their daughters ‘Jenny.’ How come you didn’t name me Jenny?"

While summing up the years at our 50th anniversary party, there was not a dry eye in the hall when it came to remembering the loss of our dear Jenny.

From monies received for her memorial, we purchased a beautiful mural by UW art professor and Stoughton artist, Dick Lazzaro, which we donated to Stoughton High School. The plaque with her photo adjacent to the memorial, reads:

The endlessness of light and energy, brightness and motion reflects the inner qualities of Jenny. The love she focused on her family and friends generated a cheerfulness and influence that will long be remembered.

SAM’S PARENTS (no real names)

We adopted our youngest son in April, 2000. He was almost 3 years old.

Sam was a ward of the state and came to us with physical issues and a birth-to-three years Support Plan.  We didn't see these problems as serious but, along with these issues, Sam came from a foster home with signs of malnourishment. He was very small and puny. 

It took a few years to get Sam physically looking and feeling OK.  Sam's birth mom drank and took drugs while pregnant. There wasn't a lot of talk about this with his social worker but more about transitioning him from the foster home to our home.

In the beginning, Sam was in a few preschools.  He had temper tantrums, wetting accidents and some aggression.  After the third school he was kicked out of, we decided to change our work hours and, eventually, our jobs – mom worked more day hours and dad worked third-shift.

Sam did attend kindergarten and did OK, though signs of hyperactivity were observed.  When Sam started first grade, his teacher disciplined him strictly. She thought he had ADHD. We stopped public school and decided to home school.  We home schooled until Sam was starting grade 5. 

The only reason we began to home school was because Sam wouldn't sit down or even go out into the community unless he had one-to-one attention and a hands-on activity.  He also began "just leaving" when he wanted.  As parents, we felt we were getting nowhere with his education and decided to have him begin school again in fifth grade. 

At this time Sam's mental health diagnoses were:  ADHD, Oppositional Defiance Disorder, and possible anxiety.  We didn't agree.  We knew there was something missing, although Sam had been assessed for psychological services and was then seeing a psychiatrist and a psychologist. 

Sam started taking medications around home schooling time in grade 3.  He was on a series of antidepressants which didn't seem to really help.  He was also having trouble sleeping which then would affect his daily routines.  Finally, he did stay with the medication Adderall, but Risperdol was added for sleep.  

Around age 10 Sam began leaving the house.  We didn't know where he was.  It varied from 2 to 24 hours in a row.  We tried different behavioral management techniques and consequences but nothing worked. It was as if he wasn't thinking.  We then decided to consult a therapist who specialized in adopted children who may have RAD (Reactive Detachment Disorder) and it was she who pointed us to getting an evaluation in the area of Fetal Alcohol and Drug Disorder.  This would help explain to others who work with Sam that brain damage had probably occurred with the alcohol and drugs his birth mother took during pregnancy. Sam now has the documentation on this disorder but, physically, he looks well.  He was diagnosed with Associated Neurological and Other Effects from Fetal Drug and Alcohol. 

This explained to us why we were not getting through to Sam and why consequences and behavioral management were not working.  There is brain damage. 

Sam was just discharged from the hospital to review his medication as well as stabilize him.  The following diagnosis have been assessed and given:  ADHD, Conduct Disorder, Reactive Detachment Disorder and Associated Neurological and Other Effects from Fetal Drug and Alcohol. 

He still continues to leave unexpectedly and has also been shoplifting.  He continues to struggle with concentration, impulsivity, anger issues and other behaviors. We have had two court dates and another one coming up along with attendance issues at school. 

Sam is only 12 and we see he will be on a difficult path.

We need to educate our community to know what happens when taking drugs and alcohol while pregnant.  The persistent message Sam provides is making others understand the brain damage caused to those who are innocent.  It is not right.

This has affected Sam. But it has also changed our lives as well as our relationships with others. We have had financial issues. We don't think society can see all these factors around Sam's behaviors.   

Now, what are Sam's strengths?  Sam does well in sports. He likes to do things with others. He is fun one-on-one. He reads pretty well. He has empathy for most other children.

Please think about the child you are carrying when you are pregnant.  It's not just the child but many other lives as well.  

LATINOS & ALCOHOL

Alcohol is part of life where we, who are Latinos, come from. There is no carding, no age restrictions. We just go to the small store and purchase what we want. Alcohol is a refreshing drink in the summer and it part of family gatherings. There are no restrictions about underage drinking and drinking is OK as long as the person doesn’t get out of control. Alcohol is not viewed as a drug.

We say, “There is no problem with drinking alcohol unless drinking alcohol becomes a problem.”

Many in the adult population do not know what moderation means. Drink in moderation? Define moderation. We have to change the perception of what level of drinking is normal. Most people do not see their drinking behavior as unhealthy or abnormal; they are just having fun, they say.

We have to adjust to the culture here. We need to learn to respect the local laws. People do not seem to understand the consequences of drinking and driving in the U.S. We have many people (about 100 a year…with 50% of these being first offenses) coming to us with DUI tickets. Probably 95% of the people we see with drinking and driving violations are men between the ages of 30 and 40. But lately, we are seeing more and more men who are in their 50s and 60s. We try to teach them about local laws and restrictions. Drinking and driving is a significant problem because it is the intersection of a cultural habit (drinking) and violation of the law – which can lead to fines or prison or deportation. People do not know the connections among these things. And it is the family that suffers the consequences.

Isolation is a real problem in the Latino community, especially for women. Isolation can come as a result of domestic abuse or cultural expectations to stay home with the children. It can come from having a husband who is out working – or who has been deported. If a woman is isolated and depressed, drinking is an easy answer. The women are not getting in trouble with the law because they are drinking at home, alone. Women are not allowed to drink in many of their home countries, but it is OK in the U.S., so why not drink? It is easier than reaching out for help. In many Latino cultures, it is taboo to ask for help. Asking for help is a sign of weakness, not strength. There are so many pressures on Latino families and fear of an Immigration-hold is a significant one. Lack of jobs is another major pressure. People are truly isolated and do not know how to reach out for help. The problems are hidden.

Our youth say it is easy to get alcohol. Often parents purchase alcohol for their kids. One of the challenges is that the kids cannot get into college because they have no Social Security number. They are frustrated, so they turn to gangs and drinking. To avoid having that happen, parents will purchase alcohol to keep the kids home and out of trouble; out of the gangs. It keeps the family together and it is not illegal to drink at home with your family. If the youth get into trouble with the law, it is a disaster because their parents may have no rights so cannot help them.

When you start depriving people of one thing after another – no driver’s license, no identification, no insurance, no work – one of the few things left that the adults can legally do is purchase and drink alcohol. No one gets arrested for that alone.

Fetal alcohol syndrome is something many Latinas talk about. They are aware of the dangers of alcohol to their unborn children and often stop drinking. Where the problem comes up is with drug addiction. Sometimes the moms cannot stop using.

Machismo is another issue. A man uses beer or alcohol because it makes him a man. Alcohol is viewed as an aphrodisiac.

There are no alcohol abuse services for Latinos in this county unless the person is bilingual or has money. There is no residential treatment. There is no out-patient treatment.

What can we do? Radio programs that educate parents. Don’t assume that people know how to read brochures or flyers, even if they are in Spanish. Talk with the younger women with families. They are the entry point into their extended families. Have articles in the Latino newspapers and on Latino radio programs that explain the specific consequences of drinking and driving – the dangers of driving without a license and going to jail or being deported. Work on culture changes. Work together.

JULES GROUP & KICK IT AT KEVA

ALI STONE

Wondering what modern day teenagers do on the weekends when they’re out with friends? Whatever the venue, chances are at some point those teens will be presented with tough choices in regard to drug or alcohol use. Ali Stone, a senior at Middleton High School and president of JULES Group, a sober awareness club, has experienced tough decision-making firsthand, but has always been steadfast in her commitment to saying no to drugs and alcohol.

Unfortunately, most often the message out there in the high schools is, “drinking and doing drugs is cool.” My mission for the past several years has been to change the culture of cool for teens. Being sober is cool. The JULES group meets weekly at Middleton High School and monthly for fun and sober events out of school like bowling or lazer tag. The group is named after Julie Zdeblick a former Middleton High School student who died of a drug overdose in 2004. The group also talks to middle schoolers to instill in them the confidence to be sober in high school.

In response to overwhelming support and encouragement from friends, parents and community members, Stone has organized a Madison area-wide event series called Kick It At Keva on Sober Saturday Nights. The series, taking place on several Saturdays is being held at KEVA Sports Center, located at 8312 Forsythia Street, Middleton Wisconsin. Dane County Executive Kathleen Falk commented" What a great idea and sounds like terrific fun!  Teens are the best leaders we have, aren't they?

 

With generous underwriting from both KEVA and the Ballweg Family of Dealerships, Sober Saturday Nights offers all area 8th-12thgraders (including Dane County and surrounding counties) an opportunity to “Kick it at KEVA” and partake in sports activities and games, as well as just lounge about making new friends. Most importantly, it offers teenagers a sober alternative to prevalent party culture.

At KEVA, we think about our customers as extended family and want to keep our family safe, says Eric Fritz, KEVA Sports Center president. For us, this has always meant providing a safe and fun place for kids and teens to play. We're sure that the new Sober Saturday Nights will be a great time. If even one kid refrains from drinking and driving as a result, we'll consider it a huge success. 

Cost to attend each event in the series is a modest $5, with pizza and soda being donated by the Ballweg Family of Dealerships. The Ballwegs view the donation as not only an investment in the community, but also as a personal statement having dealt with struggles of teen drug abuse within the family.

Dana Ballweg shares publicly her former addiction to drugs that began in 5th grade. Now mother to a daughter in the same grade, Ballweg says, My hope is that providing sober activities will keep teens from falling to peer pressure or being resilient when they feel pushed. Awareness and open communication are key with our children today to try and keep them on course

Stone agrees and says, So many parents of teens don't think they can influence their kids, but they have a lot more influence than they think. Encourage your kids to be sober. Encourage them to Kick it at KEVA. For those kids who don't drive, offer them a ride so they can participate. Being sober is fun and very cool!”

Front cover: Photo of campus graffiti -- Winter, 2009

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