The Story of “Ravaged” — The Junkies Lesson in Life!!!
“If God had told me that my new existence was going to be so traumatic and difficult, I might have contested his decision — Really God ??????” I can wait till your choice is better It’s cool., I have all the time you need!!! This is the The Story of “Ravaged”.
It’s was like God really didn’t put much thought of effort in selecting this life for me.
As it turned out, this life I have had to deal, with and not been such a good one. Up until just a few years ago.
Now, I am grateful I don’t live in the dirt, or in poverty like some, but I do know the life of spiritual poverty and squalor.
Leave It To Beaver
I was raised in a family that from the outside looking in, seemed to be wonderful and very “Father Knows Best-ish” of “Leave it to Beaver-ish”.
For the majority of the last 62 years, from 1958 when I was born through 2009 when I took my last drink.
My life had been filled with one thing after another, on and on and on, and on!!!
Remorse, regret, shame and guilt.
Never ending strife and misery. Most of which I take responsibility and for some I just don’t.
As this journal of my life is laid out, my hope is to bring awareness and understanding to those who lives have been “Ravaged”.
Ravaged like mine had been, from the demise of addiction.
Also I offer a great hope that recovery is very possible no matter what your past, present or future circumstances may be.
I wish to help just “ONE” and maybe that “ONE” is you or someone you love.
Read my story and know that even the very worst of addicts and alcoholics can and do recover, as I have.
CHAPTER 1 – SCRAMBLED EGGS
First, I must quality myself, so I am not to be misinterpreted and labeled as a realistic or sane individual. I’m quite assuredly and certifiably not all here, or not all there.
I have no degree’s of any importance nor hold any specific certifications.
I can not attest to achieving anything that you would say was great or estimable, up until a couple years back. That is when things changed.
My name is Christopher Lyall France and I am man which formerly was enslaved to drugs addiction and alcoholism.
In the language of the new standards, I would be describes as a person recovered from substance abuse disorder and alcohol use disorder.
No Labels
OK. I try not to place labels and separate myself into one particular class or another. I define my self as someone who “drank like a junkie and shot dope like a drunk” — into oblivion. But not any longer!
What got me started on this specific rant, was that one night I had been working at my desk late into the night.
I was staring at a photograph of my old Navy Boot Camp picture from years ago.
The image was from the official ceremonial pictures that are a tradition at the Naval boot-camp.
The picture is the type that has the entire company of recruits standing for the “standard” send home to Mum portrait.
What it was that caught my eye ,was not how old it was, or how corny we all looked, but what struck me was my position in the photo.
No Wonder
I was standing in the very center of the troop, in the very middle of nearly 80 “boots”.
No wonder self-centeredness was such a big problem for me in my life.
It just seemed to just happen……..
But it is evident to me as I look at the picture today that my being in the center was not by chance!
The date on the portrait was: May 7th, 1979., around 42 years ago. I was 20 yrs. old.
“Ravaged” $400 a day
How I ended up in “boot camp” will be covered in a later chapter, but I can tell you now,that six weeks earlier when I had arrived at the Naval Training Facility in San Diego I had a $400 a day cocaine habit, (just to give you fair warning!)
My Dad, Carl, who is actually my step-father had come to visit me a back a few year ago when I lived in Texas.
A few tears ago. He had with him some remnants of my past that I thought were lost long ago.
The same as my memories of my past, long lost.
Long lost to alcohol-induced blackout! Carl uncovered these relics from my past while he was going through his collection of books that he was planning to sell.
Contained in the find, were old yearbook from schools that I had attended, report-cards and letters from my girlfriends and most importantly — news paper articles from the Colorado Springs “Gazette” — sports section which features my favorite subject -ME!!!!
“Ravaged”, Scarred and Broken
“Once, I was a very good ice hockey player. I was the star player in my high school and had promise to go up in the ranks of professional play”.
I have the scarred and broken face that old hockey players are famous for before all the new safety equipment became the norm.
Back then, if you did not bleed at least once during a game, you were not playing hard enough. However, my dreams of a professional career latest only a few years.
Not much could stand again my addiction, especially my dreams! I made it through Junior A and a year in semi-pro, but drugging and drinking took precedent.
Eventually, I broke down physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Memories “Ravaged”
It had been at times, and still is extremely uncomfortable for me to stir up certain memories of my past.
When my defects would be brought to my attention, or when my malevolent behavior was scrutinized, mentioned, or focused on, it would cause me to be confronted with the truth, and the truth was demoralizing.
The truth of it was like — I was made of oil and water. Dirty oil and filthy water.
When I was cornered and fingered as being wrong it would feel as if I was being shaken.
Mixed Up & “Ravaged”
My reality would mix together, blending the true and the false, then right and the wrong, the up and the down.
I lost all direction in all department. I became unable to see the reality of my life, no matter how much pain and suffering it caused. My mind was all mixed up and “Ravaged”.
The only memories that would make any sense to me were the one’s I could embellish with half-truths and out-right lies, so as to lesson the pain and anguish which existed right below my skin!
Nuts and Bolts
Getting down the the nuts and bolts of my honesty required a very big tool-box. In a book that I read it states:
“We went back through our lives. Nothing counted but thoroughness and honesty. When we done we considered it carefully. The first thing apparent was that the world and its people were often quite wrong. To conclude that other s were wrong was as far as most of us ever got”. {page 66 Alcoholics Anonymous}
In another section it says: “We must be entirely honest with somebody if we expect to live long or happily in this world”. {pages 73–74 Alcoholics Anonymous}
I must, before I get to much further into this, that I take a moment to confess to you –
I feel I do not belong here in this position. I’ve have not done anything worthy to deserve such mercy and grace.
My past experience and failures, along with my crimes and immoral behaviors only qualify me for places like the Dept. of Corrections, or the –
State Mental Hospital for the Criminally Insane!
I am absolutely positive and certain that my past drug dealing actions have caused the death and destruction to fellow addicts. My criminal indiscretions have brought misery, loss and harm to innocent sons, daughters, mothers and fathers, wives, husbands, brothers and sisters along with countless others.
I affected people in my wake without any thought or concern about the damage done, and without conscience of right or wrong — a true psychopath.
The Storm Was Me
It was the “STORM OF RAVAGE”, and that storm was me!!!!!
Today and every day I am amazed each day that I awake in a world that has no wall or fences.
There are no guards to protect you from me. No fences to look out from. No steel curtains or cement carpets. I can walk outside and feel the wind on my face whenever I want to.
I get to drink water from glass made from real glass. Also, I enjoy my meals using a metal knife and fork. Not a plastic spork.
I really don’t like those!
I was given the gift of grace and mercy! With it I am to use it to help others. I survived to rel others how I managed it.
Service to Others
Today, I am in a position to be of service to fellow alcoholics and addict who are seeking recovery from addiction and alcoholism. I help to guide them out from their living nightmare.
Every day I have the privilege of sitting down with another man and relate my stories to theirs.
One of the greatest attributes that the men and I have in common is our brokenness, our fractured spirit. It is that part of us, deep inside, that has been covered by shame , fear, guilt,, anger, abuse, and neglect.
A Safe Shelter
Today I help to provide a safe shelter from their storm.
There are many more ingredients and maladjustment’s that ultimately prime us for our disease, our addiction, our sickness.
It doesn’t matter which came first — the chicken or the egg.
“The fact is the our eggs got scrambled, somehow, somewhere because of some circumstance or situation. “What got us to be here — is not as important as what it is that will keep us here”.
My question is this. When did this take place? I believe I was born complete, whole!
What happened to warp me like this???????
Coming soon — CHAPTER 2 — “BORN as a STONE” & CHAPTER 3 — “GOODBYE DADDY”
Thank you for all you time today, I appreciate it.