By: Mike Murphy, Manager of Alumni Services
In 2015 I had the opportunity to move to Nashville to open a new business. At the time I was working for a Tattoo Co. with a famous owner who is married to an even more famous singer. It was for sure what most people (me included) would call the “Dream Job”. Not only would I be working Downtown off Broadway, but I would be living about a mile away in a new, up-and-coming neighborhood known as The Gulch. I was right in the heart of it all. Everything you see on TV and hear about in the Country songs, I was there. Plus, the unofficial title of “Bachelorette Party Capital of the World” didn’t hurt either for a young, single guy working in the tattoo industry. Unfortunately, the glimmer of it all would fade pretty quickly.
If you have read any of my articles in the past, you will know that I am a Marine Veteran with PTSD and alcoholism. For years on years, I did what a lot of people do with their trauma. They develop the idea that if you don’t talk about it, it will go away. And as we all know, that is not the case. You can ignore or deny it as long as you want, but the odds are great that one day, it will eventually find a way to come back and bite you in the ass. And that is just what happened.
I knew that opening this business was going to be tough and demand a lot from me. I understood that days off would be minimal in the beginning and that I wouldn’t get a ton of free time. And as I am sure most of us are aware, burnout can be a terrible thing to anyone. Let alone a person with alcoholism and/or addiction. But, if there is one thing that I take pride in, it’s my work ethic. Which sometimes is to my own detriment. I was overworked, overtired, and beginning to spiral.
Nashville was a city of firsts for me. And more often than not, not in a good way. I found myself working 6-7 days a week which ultimately meant I didn’t get the chance to make many friends. And I was in a new town with no friends, no family, no nothin’. It sounds like a bad Country song (suiting), but my only friends were the bartenders at the Honky Tonks on Broadway and 2nd Ave. And for the first time, I was doing A LOT of alone drinking. This led the way to a few other problems. Let’s start with the anxiety. Holy shit the anxiety. I felt like I was having a heart attack! What the hell was this??! I would lay awake at night staring at the ceiling wondering if this was it. I know some of you can relate. Isolation came next. But in my warped alcoholic mind, I didn’t think I was isolating because I was around other people. Sitting at a bar with strangers and the people who are paid to be there does not count as socializing. No matter how you spin it.
What couples well with anxiety and isolation? If you answered depression, you are right on the money! From the outside looking in, anyone would have looked at my life and thought I was living the absolute dream! But then why was I so damn sad all the time?! Obviously being alone in a new town can be a struggle for anyone. And this wasn’t new territory for me. I had done it when I moved to Orlando years back, but for whatever reason, Orlando seemed easier than Nashville. I guess I kind of expected to be met with hundreds of new friends in Nashville because I was the new kid on the block. And the new kid was opening a very high-profile tattoo shop. Who WOULDN’T want to be friends with that guy?! Turns out, it’s not that impressive. I missed my friends. My safety net. I missed my bars and other haunts I used to frequent. And at least in Orlando, I would have days off. So, I could always get myself into something. But with the opening of this new shop, there was no time for any of that. So, you’re in a new town, in a new state, and you don’t have any time to enjoy anything other than the bars they are famous for having. People will tell you it’s the music that makes the bars there. But from my experience, the booze definitely rivals the music. And still to this day, I cannot stand live music.
Outside of the usual suspects of anxiety, depression and isolation; something new reared its ugly head. Only this time it was from my past. My time in The Marine Corps. Out of seemingly nowhere, I began having dreams that would often lead to nightmares. At this point, I was 12 years removed from Iraq and 10 from The Corps. Why was this happening now, all of a sudden?! Could it possibly be that after years of denial and not wanting to address some things that they were now moving to the front of my head ready to explode? Yup. That was it. But, I continued on with my hard willed, ignorant self. “That’s just part of life. You were in the Marines in a war. You’re going to have nightmares. Deal with it and suck it up!” So, I did. Keep shoving it into the back of your head and deal with it. And while you’re at it? Keep drinking. But maybe ramp it up a bit. Doctor’s orders. Only I was the Doctor.
Like most alcoholics, I used the bottle to quell any unpleasant feelings/emotions I had. And like most alcoholics, that didn’t work. It only made things worse. I knew that being the party animal type had given me popularity in the past, but it also allowed me to do so around other people I knew. Here, I knew nobody. So I also had nobody to watch out after me or maybe give me the ol’ “Maybe slow it down a bit, bud”. Instead, I was by myself and next thing I know, I was blackout drinking almost every night. Even getting “Baby Giraffe” legs as one bartender/friend used to call it. I would get out of my stool and instantly get to stumbling. And wouldn’t you know it? Things didn’t get better. They got worse. Concluding with me losing my job at the “Dream Job”. The owners would eventually tell me that they couldn’t move forward with me behind the helm because not only professionally did it not benefit them, but because personally they didn’t want to stand by while I destroyed myself. This would happen, again. But that’s for another blog. I left Nashville and had no plans on ever returning to the scene of my own demise.
Fast forward 7 years.
Through my time at Transformations, I have had the pleasure of meeting many people. Some of which work in the Treatment/Recovery field, as well. One of these people happens to work at a treatment facility in Nashville. And when he asked if I would ever consider coming and speaking to their clients someday, I was a little apprehensive. Normally, any time someone asks me to be of service, I will jump at the opportunity. For me, being of service has been one of the most important parts of my recovery. But to return to Nashville? I wasn’t sure about this. But after short amount of time pondering this, I realized I would only be running from my past. And in the process, not taking part in a vital part of my recovery. So I agreed and we set the date.
I got off the plane and of course it was snowing. I clearly did not bring any of the Florida weather with me on this trip. But, I was actually happy with this. Instantly a rush of panic came over me as soon as I stepped off the plane. “What if I run into someone?” or” What if I see someone I used to work with at the job I got fired from?!”. I even found myself walking through the airport with my head down. Clearly I still have some stuff I need to work through. I made it to my hotel and was instantly relieved. One because I was out of sight/mind and two, because my hotel was amazing. It is an old church that has been redone into a tiny hotel. And it is away from all the calamity that is downtown Nashville. I was able to relax and get ready for my speaking commitment.
But not before facing my fears and going downtown.
When I was living in Nashville, one of my favorite things to do was to take the backstage tour at The Ryman. Aka The Mother Church Aka The Grand Ol Opry. The history of that building is sensational. Even if you’re not a Country fan. And I was gonna be damned if I would miss the opportunity to take my beloved tour again. I also was invited to attend a Nashville Predators game that night. And it just so happened to be their inaugural Recovery Night game. Same thing as the Recovery Day game we do with the Miami Dolphins, but with the NHL. And wouldn’t you know it… Both of these things went off without a hitch! I didn’t run into anyone and I didn’t see any old co-workers. What I did see was the countless intoxicated zombies stumbling out of the Honky Tonk’s onto the streets of Broadway. It was like looking in a mirror of the past. And I did not like what I saw. Every now and again I will see something that will gut punch me with a reminder of Michael past. This was one of those. Except these people were probably on vacation. Letting loose. Maybe a little too loose, but vacation loose nonetheless. I was doing this every dang night. I not only had fun doing these two activities but I also got a stark reminder sent to me of what life used to be like. And where I sure as hell don’t want it to go back to.
Speaking at other Treatment Facilities is always an interesting time. Sure, I do it at work on the regular. But there is something different when it’s somewhere else. Maybe it’s like I feel I can be a little more raw. And not have to be guarded with my words. Or it’s because I know there is a really good chance I will never interact with these people ever again. So I really try to leave a lasting mark with them. It sounds cheesy, but even if it only hits home with one person, than it is a success. And I think it went well. I was fortunate enough to stick around after and speak with some of their clients and offer some insight and advice based on my own experience(s). But most of all. And again, this will sound cheesy, it worked because it purposefully made an impact on one person. Me. Getting out there and sharing your struggles and achievements following is so rewarding and has been a huge part of my recovery. And I hope I never grow old of it. I still get the same feeling every time I share my story as the first time I did. It’s incredible. I have done some great things in life, but I would argue this is the most rewarding.
This is a program of many things. One of which is giving back. I implore you, if ever given the opportunity, please do so. Even if that one person it helps is yourself.
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