• ARCH Recovery Programs

Corporate Alcoholism Part 2 - "The Prescription Pill Addict Next Door"

Updated: Sep 14, 2019

A Series: Part 2/4 - "Early Retirement"

"There was something about being a full grown adult, with a solid job, good friends with big business owners, playing golf with community leaders and even a member of a group to help the needy suddenly buying drugs from a dealer!" -Anonymous

Follow The Links To:

Read Part 1 "The Drunken Years"

You Are Here Part 2 "The Prescription Pill Addict Next Door"

Read Part 3 "An Almost Famous Chicken Named Woop"

Read Part 4"How I Recovered From Addiction ... A Grateful Life ..."

"I Got This!"

Somehow one of the doctors at that 28 day treatment program ended up being my primary physician. My wife to be and I went to see him. He gave her a bunch of meds, told her exactly how to give them to me and I detoxed at home, with her help. That was nearly fifteen years ago and I haven’t had a drink of alcohol since (Read Part 1 First). I didn’t go to meetings, didn’t work any steps and didn’t find any peace. I had become a money hungry workaholic.

The house on the creek I’d bought a few years earlier needed some work when I bought it. Being the genius I thought I was, I figured I'd do this work myself, trick out the yard, finish the basement, build a huge deck and various other projects - all drunk and on my own - and sell it for a profit. Which I did. In fact, I doubled my money!

Big House On The Creek

At this point my design business was going well, I wasn’t drinking so the girlfriend and I decided to buy a big place together and live happily ever after. The part she didn’t know about was a nasty back pain I developed during some of those drunken renovations to the house. After some serious discussion with the doctor, a few X-rays and a lot of whining, I ended up with a prescription of Hydrocodone. The deep desire to have a drink was finally gone. Magic! I could relax again, be at ease with the world and be ‘normal’ again.

There are two things I wanted: to relax inside, which the Xanax pretty well took care of, and to drink like a gentleman. I’d come from a well to do family where the men, in particular, had a couple of drinks every night after work. Some nights more than others. Most weekends were spent, to the best of my memory, with several cold beers throughout the day and several liquor drinks at night before dinners. I was totally convinced it was every man’s right to have a few drinks after work. My problem was, I could not seem to stop after those few. So I rationalized that if I couldn’t stop at a few drinks, these Hydros would simply take their place. I had the prescription, they relaxed my body and brain, they are totally legal and they lessoned the back pain. No more sweating liquor at night, breath smelling like a distillery or the occasional barfing from too much to drink at any given time.

The Hydros of course quit working eventually and along with a little doctor manipulating I moved up to Oxycodone. I was careful at first to take just what was prescribed. Those few a day, combined with the Benzos, will make a man feel pretty good. Our new home in the country was beautiful. Business continued steady and I worked my ass off making that house and yard picture perfect. I seemed to never get tired, feel any pain or have any self doubt that everything was wonderful. Self employed, I worked from the house, in a beautiful office / studio set-up and the wife to be had a great 8 to 5 job that payed her plenty well. She’d get up, scurry around getting ready, I’d pop a couple pills, without her noticing, and everything was great ... for a while.


I’d made really good money on the sale of my last house. This time the plan was to make it better. With a little over $300,000 invested my plan was to trick it out top to bottom and sell for a million. It was in a perfect place, had the land, barns and all the goodies ... it was a possibility. Then the major downturn of 2007 came along and the housing market went to shit. Along with this slump came a bit of a lull in my design business. Thankfully, she was on a good salary, could pay the bills if needed and I had a little money in the bank. We decided to get serious about the renovations. If housing values were going down, we wanted ours to stand out in the market if we decided to sell.

Eventually I got into some pretty serious renovations on the place which required some help. At least one good all around handyman to help out. Guess he saw me pop a perc or the subject just came up and he says, “Man, I can get all those you want”. Well, I’d gotten to where the prescribed amount wasn’t quite enough anymore. I’d eat an extra or two throughout a day or take a couple extras when we’d go out at night. That way she could have her little drinking buzz on and I could be equally as loopy, but without a drop to drink. And she never noticed. Every month I was pushing my luck to make it until the next refill so I thought I’d try him out.

I’d bought plenty of Weed, Cocaine, Quaaludes, Acid & lots of illicit drugs back in the day and on and off over the years, so it didn’t bother me that much. But there was something about being a full grown adult, with a solid job, good friends with big business owners, playing golf with community leaders and even a member of a group to help the needy suddenly buying drugs from a dealer! Granted, a hard working craftsman, but still a dealer.

Craftsman Tool Bag

This little set up began to work great! This guy really could get lots of these Percocets. I had the money to spare so I started buying them by the hundreds! I’m popping these things like breath mints and feeling better and better about everything! We were doing some beautiful renovations to the house, I was still seeing clients and getting their work done, mostly at night by now, because I was convinced we were going to make great money eventually selling the house. I told my helper about some muscle cramps I was getting at night. He said he could get some strong muscle relaxers to take care of that. Well, one of those things was like a three beer buzz to me, so I started buying those by the bag full and adding it to my all day, everyday lineup.

I’m no idiot and after a few of those times where the guy gets the money but the stuff never shows up and you don’t hear from him until he’s got plenty more - but the original money is gone - I figured I’d better find a few more sources. I mentioned it discreetly to the cleaning lady ... yeah, we had one of those ... and she said her mother got them but rarely took them and could use the money. A few other connections somehow came together, offering all sorts of new and wonderful goodies to my growing needs. As more and more connections grew the peddlers of these powers was growing sleazier and sleazier. I felt like I was living a double life. Hanging out and doing business with high-toners but then meeting up in some pretty rough places to make these dope deals. I dealt with this one lady who had one leg, looked like she’d climbed out of a grave, drove a huge blown out land yacht and lived in a trailer with holes in the floor! She’d go two counties over, get lots of different scripts for her many different ailments, and I’d turn around and buy it all from her. Somehow I figured, if I was going to buy all her pain and nerve medication, the least I could do was help her out ... So I often paid her power and water bill for her. Crazy!

I still had my Dr’s prescriptions but was taking WAY more than he had prescribed. I went to see him on an off day and we decided I was depressed. So another script of antidepressants. Business was really slowing down. Partly due to the economy and a lot to do with how I was handling things. It got to where I couldn’t even set up meetings because I didn’t know if I could get my chemical mixture right for the meeting or not. Total addiction had taken hold of me. Once again, I was stashing stuff all over the place. Small zip locks tacked to the inside of cabinet openings, decorative boxes never opened by the girlfriend stuffed full of carefully planned varieties, and 35 mm film canisters with Velcro strips attached to them stashed everywhere imaginable. This counting out how many of what might be needed in case of any unexpected venture was a daily task. One I hated. In fact, I’d gotten to hating the whole thing ... but couldn’t stop.

I was getting to a point I wish I’d just die in my sleep at night. Then I’d get up, put on a fake happy face until my partner was out the door and then go into my morning madness of trying to get the combination of all the different meds right in order to function another day. Sometimes it still happened right and I was a fireball. I’d call clients, try to drum up a little business and in my mind, for a few hours, everything would be fine. Then I’d take too much of one thing or smoke too much of another and be right back to accomplishing nothing substantial and end up farting around with something on the property or in the house so I’d at least have something to do and hopefully look busy when the girlfriend got home from work.

Busy Working At Home

My creative work had slowed to nearly nothing at this point. Partially because my clients weren’t doing as much business at the time but really more because I wasn’t working hard enough. Self doubt really started working on me. I was constantly worried if I’d have enough to get to that spot where I could put some mind-blowing creative work together ... because average work would never do. The time I should have been spending knocking on doors and pitching new customers was spent chasing down more dealers or waiting on something to come in or counting out what I had and figuring how to make it last until whenever the next came in ... which was totally unreliable, so the whole process was bogus! It was complete insanity at its best. And it was miserable ... until the next call that more dope had come in and then we’re instantly cured ... aren’t we.

I always kept pretty good composure. I was afraid of overdose, had a very high tolerance, and did need to function to a degree, in case something came up. So I would carefully take plenty of all I needed just to stay totally stoned, but to where it was hard to tell ... at least I think. I really thought I had everyone fooled. But looking back, now through sober eyes, it was probably very clear that I was fried.

Looking Back Through Sober Eyes

One night the girlfriend wanted to sit down and talk. ‘Oh hell, I’m busted’. Nope. She said, since my income was slowing down so bad I was struggling to pay my bills and she was continuing to make good money, if we got married we could both be under her family insurance plan. That would save me $600 a month right there! There were several benefits to this idea. We’d been together for nearly 10 years anyway. And she inspired me! She made me want to do better and accomplish more. I just needed to shake this bad habit I’d developed.

So we set a date and all was going to be well. Amazing how the slightest little change in our imaginary plans of the future can change our outlook on the world ... for a while. Until the reality sets in that if we don’t change everything it’s all going to still be the same ... only just a little different.

Next >>>>Part 3 - "An Almost Famous Chicken Named Woop"

Follow The Links To:

Read Part 1 "The Drunken Years"

Read Part 2 "The Prescription Pill Addict Next Door"

Read Part 3 "An Almost Famous Chicken Named Woop"

Read Part 4 "How I Recovered From Addiction ... A Grateful Life ..."

Part 3 - Coming Soon

Copyrighted© 2019 ARCH Recovery all rights reserved.

204 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All