I recall when I hit my first year of sobriety. I had discussed it with a good personal friend and she said ‘well, why don’t you put it on Facebook?’ and I was like no, no, NO. You feel like you’re walking on a tightrope, like you’re totally exposed and its embarrassing, man! But I did it anyway and you know what? The response was overwhelming it was from so many people and it such a positive way that…you know, I couldn’t even have imagined. After that, I started thinking that I just need to tell my story more. It can happen to anyone and more people to know that it is possible to heal.

I was born and raised in Española. I’m an alcoholic. Drug of choice was always alcohol. I was drinking since I was a teenager. It’s part of our culture here. In northern New Mexico, you can’t tell the difference between a wedding and a funeral. We celebrate both equally and we all do it in excess. Mom drank, dad drank, cousins drank, aunts and uncles drank. So, it was around me my whole life and it didn’t seem like it was a big deal – until it was a big deal.

In my late 20s, my first daughter was born and I quit drinking cold turkey for about six years. I went through a divorce years later and started hanging out with my old friends and pretty fast I was what I’d describe as a functional alcoholic. I had a job, took care of my kids as a single parent. I managed, you know. You just make it work. I never drank around them, I didn’t have alcohol in the house, I was real strict about friends coming over to visit. I was basically drinking three days on, four days off but when I drank, I drank a lot.

It started creeping in. I just wasn’t operating at my best, you know. Eventually the job suffered, I wasn’t all there for my daughters because I was hungover. You’re running at half empty all the time and what’s left in the tank isn’t enough.

In 2018, my best friend of 42 years died right in front of me. He was living with me at the time and he had a medical condition that had gone untreated. He came home from a birthday party, he was still in his work clothes and we were going to watch Thursday night football, I can remember it clearly. Eagles and the Giants. Anyway, he said, I’m going to call my wife, she was in Colorado at the time and about fifteen minutes later I hear this loud THUD and I find him on the floor and he was unresponsive. I call 911. It took forever. I tried CPR. His breathing just stopped. I called 911 again and they couldn’t find my house. Eventually they get there and start working on him. The State Police are on me with questions but I’m worried about my friend, the EMTs bring in the paddles and …. About one in the morning one of the EMTs looks and me and just shakes his head. That was it.

Insane. Just insane.

That was October 11, 2018. His wife arrives the next day and we had to figure out the funeral and everything and at that point….I started drinking HEAVILY. I was just trying to process, all I could do was self-medicate to kill my pain. That continued for a hard two weeks. I totally lost control. After the funeral, people came to my house and we drank some more.

You know, I was just in so much pain, I couldn’t stop. She said, I can’t be around you if you keep doing this. I was lashing out, being verbally abusive, I was so angry.

On October 23, I woke up and I was physically not in a good place. I’d lost track of days and nights. I was having nightmares. He was there. He was on the floor. He was calling for me. The worst one? He was standing there in my doorway and I was looking at him and he just turned pale. I couldn’t process. His wife was still staying at the house and she offered to go get me a bottle of some liquor to calm the nerves and I thought…no, I’m not going to drink today. And I didn’t. And I didn’t the next day and those next 48 hours were hell. Total hell. Later, I found out that going cold turkey is the most dangerous way to stop drinking. You are supposed to go into a medical detox so they can watch you so you don’t have a heart attack. I thought I could sweat it out like a cold but…no way. Dry heaves, shakes, chills, hallucinations. I went crazy. After two days I ate a cracker and drank some water. By the end of the week I was starting to stabilize and pretty soon a few weeks were gone and I was still sober.

A friend of mine suggested I get grief counseling. I was like…no way…that’s not what men in our culture do, you know? We’re supposed to be tough. Suck it up. Men don’t get therapy. Men hit the sauce.

But I thought, man, I really need to talk with someone. I need help. I found a woman here who was also an addictions counselor. I started going to some AA meetings and man, that was hard. You talk about stigma? I even lied about my name at first but eventually I could say “Hey. My name is Rob Vigil and I’m an alcoholic” and I could share my story. I got a huge amount of non-judgmental support. At some point, I realized it just wasn’t for me. There was nothing wrong with it, just wasn’t for me.

But I continued with the therapy and I can’t put into words how much that changed my life. After six or nine months, I woke up one day and thought, you know, I got what I needed. I don’t need therapy anymore. So, I went in really to tell her that I was good and she says first “Mr. Vigil, you’ve met all your goals in here and I’m feeling like you’re good….”

And I have been good. I just past four years sober and I just feel strong. I’m good, man.

Do I do anymore therapy? Yes. I found a new therapy. Fishing. If you pour a cup of water, I’ll drop a line in it. Any chance I get, I’m on the water. That is my thing.

Now I run this recovery housing place, help people get jobs, get stable and I worry about my people relapsing. It hasn’t happened but if I have anything that gives me anxiety it is these folks relapsing. We’re a family here and you worry about your family.

Sunrises. Sunsets. Those moments on the river. You get to hit pause on your life and just say, holy crap, man. I’m here.

-          November 2022