I am 45 years old, single and a recovering alcoholic for over 15 years. I can remember a time when I was younger, about six or seven years old, when a drastic change happened in our family life. Something came over us like the life had been sucked out of our family. It was dark and rainy one evening, my mom and us kids were at home, the power kept going out and we were pretty scared. My dad hadn’t come home yet, and mom was worried and a little upset. We were just sitting in the living room when the front door blew open and there was my dad, soaked and acting strange. I got the weirdest feeling. They sent us to bed and the yelling and screaming started. That night my dad had come home drunk and everything changed for us.

When I was growing up we moved around quite a lot, from one state to another, one military base to the next. As kids we thought it was great to move around the country, but as we got older it started to take its toll on the family. My dad would start drinking more, my mom would go to work and us kids would have to be watched by strangers. I had never wanted to grow up so fast, just to get away.

When I graduated high school, a chance finally came for me to get out. And what do you think I did? I joined the military. Go figure. I had spent my entire life living it from day to day, place to place, and I take over where my dad left off.

My first six weeks in basic training were tough and, well, maturing, but not until after that did I really discover things about myself. I discovered I liked men. I had always thought I was just different as a kid. I was told it was a phase, but once in the military it took over. I tried to hide it from my family, and myself but to no avail. That’s when alcohol became a part of my life. The more I consumed, the more the thoughts of other men got worse. I would have to say that alcohol led me to a lot of trouble in the military, and it was easy to blame it for my troubles.

I was soon discharged from the military for conduct unbecoming a serviceman, but it was an honorable discharge. Someone called and told my commanding officer that I was living with a man and it all came out in the open. Before “don’t ask don’t tell” they didn’t know what to do, so a discharge was in the works — it took longer to get processed out than it did to get in. When I got out, no one in my family would say anything to me. I was on my own.

I soon discovered the local gay bars and was welcomed with open arms. Drinking became part of my life because it would take away the memories of how screwed up my life was. Strangers would come up to me and buy me drinks and say I was a handsome man.

It worked for about three years, and then it stopped. I was getting older and more and more obsessed with the “buy me this and I will do that for you” approach to life. One beer, one liquor drink. Then I started going to parties and doing things just to have something to drink — and sometimes that would get me something else I hadn’t planned on. The more I drank the more I was taken advantage of.

This went on for a few years. I moved around for all kinds of reasons, but the truth is, I just wore out my welcome. I became an alcoholic. I would do anything for booze. I cheated, I stole, and I used myself in every possible way, just for the booze.

It’s been 15 years now, and I have had a hard time trying to find romance. That part is the hardest I have ever been through. I used to “get some” whenever I was drunk, but I know now it wasn’t love, it was payment for the drinking. I did have a few relationships over the past few years, but today I am single. The last relationship I had was like a dream come true. My partner was everything you could possibly dream of, handsome, funny, intelligent. We seemed made for each other. He was the one that comes along once in a lifetime, but I didn’t know how to handle it. I started to relive old memories, started becoming obsessive, controlling. I became the things I hated in others. In the end I scared him off, but I blamed him.

Now I have to take care of another part of my life. I have to find out who and what I am about. And being sober has helped me. It’s given me a sort of schedule to live by and a — pardon the pun — step in the right direction. I know what qualities to look for in a person and I get to know them, without having fireworks go off every time someone smiles at me. Being sober has made me feel better about myself, and helps me be a better person. I was a mess, but all of that is changing. I like who I am. I don’t need a relationship right now. Except with myself.