 Sun
God Festival, UCSD, 1992. My drinks of choice on that occasion
were Everclear Kool-Aid punch mix, beer, and an inconspicuous water
bottle filled with tequila and a splash of margarita mix. Most
of the day was spent in a blackout, but I came to a couple of times:
once, in the afternoon, to witness a “friend” dropping
a live goldfish down my throat in front of the Sun God sculpture.
And then a second time, late that night, in my Marshall Lower apartment
bedroom, unable to remember how I got there.
Shrugging it off, I nursed myself back to a semi-stable condition
so that I could begin partying again as soon as possible.
One year later, I woke up on a gorgeous La Jolla day and had my
Sun God drinking agenda all lined up, but little did I know, the
Sun God had other things in store for me.
I’d been feeling chronically depressed and didn’t
know why, so my mom made the suggestion during a teary phone conversation
that I talk to a “professional.”
Offended, but willing to try anything, I trudged off to my meeting
with Paul, a man with a serene, steady air, a ready smile, and
the patience of Buddha. He began our session with a series of questions
about my drug and alcohol habits and by the end informed me that
he couldn’t help me with depression if I continued to drink.
Alcohol is a depressant, he told me, and then strongly encouraged
me to go to a drug and alcohol abuse group on campus—“Dan’s
Group”—that afternoon.
Being a curious girl, I wanted to see what drug addicts and alcoholics
looked like, so I went. It could be like a sociology assignment.
To my surprise, everyone in the room appeared happy, energetic,
friendly, bright, and no one even seemed buzzed. Was I in the right
group? And there was Dan, the facilitator, calmly leading the group;
he had a warm presence I immediately liked.
The session was nearly over when the group unexpectedly put me
in the hot seat. They asked all kinds of questions about my drinking,
and I thought I was deflecting them quite well, because I didn’t
have a problem, after all! Finally, they asked me about my drinking
friends, to which I answered, “They are the biggest alcoholics
I’ve ever met in my life!”
Stunned by this comment, and enveloped in the silence of the group,
I heard myself clearly for the first time. I drew myself up, breathed
a huge sigh, and said, “Oh—they is me . . . ”
“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” they
inquired.Well, naturally, my plans were spoiled. Instead of going
to parties, I packed up some books and went to the library to study
(for once). Later, as evening fell, I made a detour past the Sun
God to reflect. With its vivid colors, its wings embracing the
sky, the silly bird seemed to say, “Isn’t life surprising
and wonderful, even comical?” Smiling, I concluded that maybe
I wasn’t doomed to a joyless life if I stopped drinking.
And it was amazing, suddenly the night felt so clear, beautiful
and full of promise.
That was 14 years ago, May 21, 1993, and I haven’t had a
drink, nor any mood- or mind-altering substances since then. My
life has been such an incredible journey, one that I’ve been
able to be awake for.
Huge thanks to Dan Munoz, his group, and
Paul. Oh, and of course, the Sun God!
Cheryl Rowe, Marshall ’94, is a middle school
teacher in the San Ramon Valley, California, where she lives
with her two darling cats. |
