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| DAN SPIVEY |
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| DAN SPIVEY |
I remember when I was very young, I thought surely one day I'd become a rich and famous professional baseball player. That changed as I got older and my skills improved at football. In high school I was named as an All State and All County football player; I was that good.
Of the 200 colleges that recruited me, I accepted a football scholarship from University of Georgia, imagining Georgia as my stepping stone into pro football. All was going well until my junior year when I sustained a knee injury resulting in my first surgery. I was never the same after that; my dream of being a professional football player was over.
During my senior year in college, I met some intriguing wealthy bookmakers from nearby Athens who worked only on weekends - just as I wanted. Enticed, I pursued friendships with them, deciding to join in their unscrupulous endeavors, which proved the first of many addictions. I started working for them booking football games. Things were going my way - until I got arrested, charged as a commercial gambler, sentenced to serve 6 months probation. I stopped booking but continued to obsessively gamble.
I pursued marijuana and cocaine trafficking when my gambling was not profitable. This would be my next way of becoming rich! I wasn't a very good drug dealer either, always having my nose in the bag of cocaine. I went through some scary times, deciding to make major changes. My first geographic cure lead me to California. I was able to abstain simply by not knowing where to score drugs. Working everyday helped keep my "nose" clean but after about a year I thought it safe to move home. Back in Florida I looked into a wrestling promotion because of my size. I was 32, which is considered quite old to start a career in professional wrestling, but was determined to succeed and become rich and famous. This introduced me to a new world full of drugs: hallucinogens, steroids, valium and pain killers.
I was successful in the States as well as Japan. After 12 years, I retired from wrestling, unable to continue taking drugs and needing surgeries. A week later, I had my knee replaced, then my hip a few months later, causing excruciating pain, with the hospital meds providing no relief. I found the right pain medication illegally; taking them well after the pain was gone, overmedicating for years. Once again at the hospital, a doctor who worked at a local drug and alcohol rehab came to see me. This doctor was a recovering addict and understood my situation and my addiction, even though I did not. He helped me get the correct treatment for my pain and talked to me about coming to his clinic, which for some reason I did.
At the age of 44, I was in a rehab clinic for drugs and alcohol, having no clue. I hadn't heard of AA, The Big Book or the 12 steps. I was there just to get detoxified. I was Dan Spivey, the football player, the pro wrestler. I was not a drug addict or an alcoholic. I was a bad ass - did anything I wanted. As far as I was concerned this was about willpower. I could get through this with brute force. It always worked in the past. Why not again now?
I stayed for 30 days, swearing that I would never go back to that place. I was able to abstain from pain killers for a while. I then found some replacement drugs. My next binge would last 12 years. I took every party drug I could find: ecstasy, GHB, Nubian, crystal meth, and of course alcohol and marijuana. I soon found oxycontinand roxicodone, stronger pain killers than I had previously experienced. I was off to the races. I learned how to administer intravenous injections. I took anything to get high.
A few months later, dependent on pain killers and xanax, I ran out of drugs 4 days before my doctor appointment. I figured that I could tough it out. I was wrong. On the 3rd day of withdrawal, I went to the bathroom. On my way back to bed, I lost all control of my legs. I could not walk and fell to the floor. I was able to pull my phone off of a table and call 911. In the hospital, I told them about the pain killers. For some reason I never mentioned the xanax. When they ran a toxicology test nothing showed up because it had been a few days since I had used. The doctors did not realize that I was in the middle of detoxifying from xanax. I was having convulsions, hallucinations and nightmares. I truly thought that I had died and went to hell. I escaped from ICU twice and was found in the parking lot looking for cigarettes. They finally put me in restraints. It was crazy. No one knew what was happening. Somewhere around the 3rd day, my ex-girlfriend, a nurse, came to the hospital. She knew the different drugs I was taking and told the hospital so they could start to properly detox me. I found out later that there are 2 drugs that can kill you when you are having withdrawals: alcohol and benzodiazepines (xanax).
I was sent to a second mental hospital in Houston because the doctors thought that I may have done permanent damage to my brain. I had taken so many drugs over my lifetime, nobody was sure what was happening, not even me. Many tests were taken, all of which came back negative, but I knew something was wrong. With a monkey on my back sitting in Houston, I wondered why I was at this place. It hit me - I am an alcoholic and a drug addict! I finally accepted this. With this knowledge, I knew what I needed to do; go back to the rehab I was at 14 years earlier, the one that I said I would never go back to. This time I was willing to do anything.
From Houston I flew back to Florida and checked into rehab. I did everything they asked me to do. I was serious about my recovery. I stayed there 5 months, learning the tools that I needed to use to deal with life on life's terms. They took us to 12 step meetings and I got a sponsor, the toughest S. O. B. in the rooms. There was no fooling around. I needed someone that I could not lie to. He has 37 years of sobriety-a real no bullshit kind of guy.
I continue to go to 12 step meetings daily. I am of service to the newcomer. I work the 12 steps of recovery with my sponsor. I continue to learn. I got my life back - just what I had prayed for. I spent 40 years battling addiction. I was a mean, nasty, lonely S. O. B. but have been given a second chance. I have done it all and seen it all. I know how it feels to live in hell from addiction to drugs and alcohol. I know how it feels to be so isolated from everyone and everything that they only release was the drugs and alcohol. I also know how it feels to ask for help and get it.
