My name is DJ. I'm a recovered alcoholic. And that is very possibly the most important thing words that are going to come out of my mouth here today. The book says to burn the idea into the consciousness of every man that he can get well regardless of anyone. And I heard these ladies talking earlier this afternoon and one of them said one of the most important things that the book follows it up with—the only conditions were to trust God and clean house. And as a result of God's grace, the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, the program, I'm pretty well today. I think that's a pretty important message because I'm one of those guys. I don't understand people who want to stay sick, you know. I hear people sitting around talking about, "I'll always be a sick alcoholic. I'm just a poor alcoholic." And I don't get that.

I'm sure that there's a lot of folks out there who would like to keep us sick—doctors and therapists and treatment centers because they make a bunch of money off of us. But I know that that's not the message that was in this book that was carried to me by men who went before me. It's like this tie that I'm wearing. This was not my idea. This is the idea of men who went before me in Alcoholics Anonymous. And it's like most of the good things that came to me in my life. It was passed on to me by men who went before me who were working the spiritual program of action that's outlined in this book. I am as grateful as I know how to be to be here today. It's an honor to get to speak and get to know you guys. You know, the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous is a wonderful thing. The people that I've got to meet and I've been around the country. I've gone to different AA in different places. I was thrilled with riding over with Cliff this morning going by y'all's AA Club and I was like, "You guys got to be doing something right because this is like the Buckingham Palace of Alcoholics Anonymous." I mean, this place looked great, you know? I was thrilled. I was like, "Man, these guys got to be doing something." People having jobs, living, celebrating life. I mean, those are the things they showed me what Alcoholics Anonymous was about.

My story is not that much different than anybody else's. You know, I could probably sum it up real quick. I was pretty unhappy. I started drinking. I got real happy. I kept on drinking. I got pretty miserable. And I came to Alcoholics Anonymous and I'm happy today. You know, that leaves us with about 45 minutes to kill. So I'll probably fill in a couple of the blank spots in there.

There was a time that when I had 12 years of sobriety and then I turned 13 years old. You know, I had white knuckled it for just about as long as I could. You know, the truth is I could have used a shot of whiskey on my first date to kindergarten. You know, I was an irritable, restless, discontent little kid. You know, I'm having trouble in my personal relationships. They want me to play with the blocks. I'm over here in the finger paint. You know, and that's the story of my life. I have to say, I'm grateful for the anonymity in this program because I'm fixing to have another admission. You know, I was also born a Yankee and I'm hoping you guys are going to keep it here with us today. You know, I got down here as quick as I could.

When I was growing up at home, you know, I really appreciated some of the things that were said today. There was no weird stuff going on in the home I grew up in. My mom and dad love me. They're still married today. You know, my dad's a drinker. The fact is he's an alcoholic. Not because I say he's an alcoholic, not because my mom said he's an alcoholic, not because anybody says he's an alcoholic except that he says he's an alcoholic. But they loved me. You know, they provided for me. They gave me good things. You know, there was nothing weird going on. I truly believe I was born this way with that spiritual malady that the book talks about.

My mom, she thought that geographic change that so many of us do would solve the problem. And so when I was about 13 years old, they packed all our belongings in a truck and they had a neighbor that built houses in Harlingen, Texas. And I grew up in upstate New York, which is kind of like out here. I mean, I grew up in the boonies. Everybody thinks New York State's one big city. Well, I got to tell you, they got some hillbillies up there, you know. My last name is Shay and I come from Irish stock and they like to drink whiskey.

When I moved to Texas, we moved to Rio Hondo, Texas. I don't know if any of y'all know where that's at. It's down in the valley about as far south as you can get. I was quite confident that they had passed the United States border somewhere around San Antonio, but they kept on going. And when I got down to Rio Hondo, I was 13 years old. I'm thinking, you know, I just don't fit in down here. I wasn't fitting in real well where I was at. When they moved me down there, I'm thinking, I really don't fit in now. And I'm pretty uncomfortable.

It took me about two weeks to seek out some guys who looked like they were having fun. They were smoking cigarettes over behind the schoolhouse. And I kind of gravitated toward these kind of guys, you know. And it wasn't too long after that that I took my first drink. I was out in a little reservoir out there outside of Rio Hondo, Texas. I'm feeling pretty uncomfortable. I'm trying to fit in. My life to me seems like it's a wreck. My parents are moving down here. They've moved me away from the things. I'm scared is what it boils down to. And the book sums it up so well on page 52. It says, "We were unhappy." You know, and that was where I was at.

And we're sitting out there in this reservoir and the first time I ever took a drink and we were smoking a little bit of weed. I don't know if it was the weed or the alcohol or what exactly was going on, but it happened for me. And I know that a lot of people in this room probably know exactly what I mean when it happened. You know, everything just kind of went. I had a spiritual experience. That's what it felt like to me. You know, I started to experience the 12 promises. You know, I wasn't having trouble in my personal relationships. I'm bonding with close personal friends, you know, in a matter of moments because that's what alcohol does for me. Changes my perception of reality, you know, makes—I drink alcohol because I like the effect produced by it. That's what the Big Book says. And that was my experience.

I don't believe that I caught this thing off a toilet seat, that I got it from the kids I hung out with. I don't think I got it from any of those rock and roll records, not even the Black Sabbath. You know, I was born this way. The book says our alcoholic lives seem the only normal one. It doesn't say drinking seemed the only normal thing. It's talking about being alcoholic. I truly believe the message in this book is very clear that alcohol is not the problem.

You know, I heard these terms about drugs of choice. My sponsor says something and I can relate to that. My drug of choice is Advil. You know, I can take two of them and put the bottle away. You know, that's what drug of choice means to me. The reason that I came to Alcoholics Anonymous, how I got here, was because I had lost the power to choose whether I would drink or not. It's really that simple. Because if I was one of those guys who could put the plug in the jug and just stop drinking, I would put the plug in the jug and just stop drinking. I'd be with Nancy Reagan's Merry Band of Men. Just say no. You know, but the truth is my experience is I'm the guy who drinks no matter what. Whatever consequences were coming down my way, those consequences were never able to stop me.

As a result of Alcoholics Anonymous and working these 12 steps, see, because what the 12 steps did for me was they created a circumstance in my life and put me in a position where God could touch me because that was what I was missing in my whole life. You know, I heard that lady say that and I've been around Alcoholics Anonymous long enough to know that some people do have a problem with God. And I've heard the old-timers say, you know, that that's okay. You know, if God chases you out, alcohol brings you back. That's just the truth. It says on the first page of "We Agnostics" that you may be suffering from an illness that only a spiritual experience will conquer. In other words, that's all we got to offer here in Alcoholics Anonymous—a way of life that's going to create a spiritual experience.

I started getting in trouble around alcohol pretty quickly. You know, I didn't know what blackout drinking was. I thought starting drinking in one place and ending drinking puking in somebody's toilet somewhere else was Friday night. You know, I never thought about that as being blackout drinking.

My parents—my mom, like I said, she'd make a great Alan. And I'm as grateful for Ellen as I know how to be today. This lady, I love you, Jan. She's got me over here in the shade. I'm appreciating that, you know. And not only that, but the most beautiful thing she said was she called me a kid. I love this lady. I love this lady.

Like I said, my mom was a pretty big fan. I had no idea what alcoholism was, you know. And if you'd asked me a long time before I got sober if I was an alcoholic, I'd have told you, "Yeah, you know, absolutely. My last name, like I said, I'm Irish. Of course, I'm alcoholic." But the truth is, I didn't understand what that meant. And until I did, consequently, I never got sober.

At the age of within six months to a year of when I started drinking and drugging. That day when I was coming home from the reservoir, I remember that very clearly. I'm riding home on a Honda 50 motorcycle and I tip that thing over in the gravel and I'm skinned up from my knees, skinned up on my elbows, and I get up and I'm just laughing. And the guys that were with me, they're laughing too. And I heard Diane say it earlier, I believe it was said that because it was the first time they weren't laughing at me. They were laughing with me and I made a conscious decision right then that I was going to do this stuff a lot. In fact, I never wanted to be without this stuff again because it works for me.

You know, I've had people over the years of my drinking and drugging tell me that they were always talking about what the consequences of what alcohol was going to do to me. And the truth was I was trying to explain to them what alcohol did for me. You know, and that is the truth. Alcohol was my solution to my problem. And I, like I said, the people who have gone before me and have taught me what the messages in this book—it's pretty clear what the root of my trouble is. You know, the book talks about selfishness and self-centeredness is the root of my trouble. I did not know that till I got to Alcoholics Anonymous.

I was convinced that if you had my wife, you'd drink, too. You know, if I work in construction—if you worked in construction, you're going to drink, too. And not only do I work in construction during the day, but I play the guitar at night. I'm in a rock and roll band. If you're in a rock and roll band, you're going to drink, too. You know, these are the—I was so convinced that my external circumstances were the things that made me drink. I know that about 14 years old, my mom sent me on my first geographic cure. She decided that I was going to go live with my sister. And I'm thinking this is not too cool at the time because I'm just now starting to fit in with these guys. I got a new way of life started, but I decided that I'd go along with it. The only problem was my sister lived in Hawaii. So I learned to smoke better pot quick, you know.

And I know this is Alcoholics Anonymous and I truly believe in singleness of purpose. I will try to keep my talking around other things is how they related to my alcoholism because I started changing the way I felt with alcohol and alcohol was the last thing I used to change the way I feel before I got in the program. And I learned that the only thing that was going to change the way I felt and make my life better was God, you know, and that's what they taught me.

I go over to Hawaii and I'm over there and my brother-in-law, he lives on a military base and he's an MP. He's been married for a year. I've known my brother-in-law since I was 10 years old. Him and my sister are high school sweethearts. They were kind enough to bring me into their home. I get over there, like I said, he's a military policeman on the base. And I start getting in trouble almost instantly. You know, you guys ever see those oldfashioned coke machines where you could open the little door and pull the Cokes out of them? Well, down there in the bowling alley on the base, they had one where you could pull beers out of there. You know, I developed a strong affinity for bowling quick, you know. I got a place where I could get my supply and I just started doing things.

The book talks about—we're a tornado roaring through the lives of other people and that is the truth. That was the root of my trouble. When I got to make amends to my brother and sister, I'm sitting down over dinner and I'm making amends to those people about what I had done when I was 15 years old. You know, one of the most surprising things about it was they felt bad because they thought they had let me down, you know. And that's the way we affect the other people in our lives, you know. They're feeling like they had let their little brother down. They didn't know what they had done wrong. And that's my story is full of that. That's how I affect, how I inflict myself on other people in my natural state, you know.

About the time I'd been there for about a year and a half, they were done. They sent me back home to Harlingen, Texas, which was a little bit closer to the United States, about six miles. And when I got there, I was to fall in love with one of the most wonderful women I've known in my life. One of them. She was a nice girl. We were high school sweethearts. I captured her as my hostage right then. You know, I spent the next 20 years of my life inflicting myself on this woman.

If you'd asked me before I got sober how much I loved her, I'd have told you, you know, because I really believed that in my heart that I did. What I learned in Alcoholics Anonymous is I didn't know what that word meant. You know, in Alcoholics Anonymous, I learned that love is an action, you know, that there's things that I must do, that gratitude is an action. You know, I thought my feelings were incredibly important before I got to Alcoholics Anonymous. I thought that what I felt and what I believed and what I thought was who I am. And what I've learned by working this program with a sponsor—I've had a sponsor since the first day I came to Alcoholics Anonymous—is that the world perceives me as what I do. And they see what I do is who I am.

And when I had to get honest with myself and look back over that, that hurt. You know, I was able to see the things, the truth about my life and what I had done to other people. I truly wanted to change. I could sit here and tell you a bunch of good stories about crazy stuff that happened to me and there was a lot of it. I believe that God was with me the entire time. If I got what I deserved, I'd be in prison today, you know, or I'd be dead. One of the two. That's the lot of alcoholism. But God saw fit to bring me to Alcoholics Anonymous further down the road.

I think probably two of the most important events of my particular story that ties into what Alcoholics Anonymous is about is in the home life I grew up in. My mom and dad never talked about God. God wasn't good. God wasn't bad. It just was never talked about. And as a result, I grew up thinking when I found out Santa Claus wasn't true and they were fibbing to me about that one, I just kind of put God right over there in that category with Santa Claus, you know. And that was—I don't think it was really even a conscious thought of that. It just almost happened automatically at that same period of time.

I think I asked for something. God, if you're real, prove it. You know, that kind of attitude. I'm probably about five or six years old and it didn't happen. So I'm like, okay. And it's done. I didn't believe in God at all.

Got married at about—I got married at 19 years old and at 20 years old, a friend of mine that I went to high school with, she was killed by a drunk driver. And my wife wanted me to go with her to the funeral. The only funeral I had ever been to in my life was my grandfather's. I was about six or seven years old. It was a bad experience. I did not want to go. But because she's my wife and I'm thinking she's my new wife, I'm supposed to be responsible. I'm going to go with her.

And I'm sitting in this church where they're having an open casket funeral. And another girl that I went to high school with stepped up to that casket and she sang Amazing Grace. And everything I remember very clearly was everybody in that room was crying except me. You know, I'm sitting there just being uncomfortable thinking I don't want to be here. I don't get this. They're talking about God and all this thing because my thoughts are that God is an idea for people who are afraid of death. You know, if I have any concept of God, that's basically where my thoughts are going with this.

And when that girl stood up to that casket and sang Amazing Grace, I had a revelation. I mean, I have had spiritual experiences previous to Alcoholics Anonymous. Not vital enough to bring about recovery, but from that moment forward, I knew that there was a power greater than myself. I knew it. And I've known it all my life. Ever since that day, I've never doubted the power of that moment.

Now, it didn't have anything to do with getting me sober. The thought of getting sober never even occurred to me. I don't believe that this illness has anything to do with belief in God. You know, you can believe all you want to and you can pray all you want to. I prayed before I got to Alcoholics Anonymous and I believed.

Seven years later, I was sitting in a church again at another girl that my wife went to high school with. And I was sitting in that church and for the first time, I picked up the New Testament and I read it and I saw something in Jesus that I've held dear to me to this day. That's who I wanted to be like. That's what I wanted to be, you know, and I accepted Christ into my life that day. It didn't change my alcoholism. Didn't stop me from drinking. Well, that's not true. It did stop me for about two weeks, you know. And then the thought comes to my mind, well, Jesus drank wine. I'm going to drink wine. And I'm back off to the races, buddy.

And that's when the guilt really started to come down on my life because then I'm thinking, I'm a bad person. I'm knowing there's something wrong with me because I don't want to be hurting the people in my life. I can't tell you how many times I promised this woman I would stop doing that. And I meant it. I heard that today. I meant it. I wanted to stop.

For a couple of days and I'd be coming home and it was the book says the great obsession of every abnormal drinker is the idea that someday he will control and enjoy his drinking. And I don't know about any of you guys, but if I'm controlling it, I am not enjoying it. And if I'm enjoying it, I am not controlling it. Those things do not make sense to me.

So those were those two experiences around God were a huge relief to me when I got to this program. You know, I believe that what I'm going to try and do to serve you guys today to the best of my ability is keep the commitment that I made to bear witness to what God has done for me in my life. That's all I have. That is what I have to share with another alcoholic.

You know, they taught me about things. Well, I'm going to tell you a little bit about right before I got to Alcoholics Anonymous. I've been over in my studio playing the guitar for about three days because when I moved to Austin, Texas when I was 20 years old and I discovered the solution to blackout drinking. It was called methamphetamine. And methamphetamine gave me the illusion of control over alcohol. That's exactly what it did. It gave me the illusion of control. It probably kept me from reaching a bottom for a few more years than I would have.

I was been over in my studio playing the guitar for about three days and I decide I'm gonna go home and grace my wife with my presence. And I get home and she ain't there. And I'm thinking this is pretty rude. You know, I'm just not approving of that behavior whatsoever. And a couple hours go by and I start getting a little angrier and a little more upset. And I'm just thinking she—this ain't right.

The truth is the reason I went home to begin with is because I'm out of dope. I'm out of alcohol. I'm thinking I might get something from her that I'm not going to mention from the podium. And those are my ideas of why I go home. And the longer I sat there that night and she didn't come home, the madder I got.

So I go back out. I mean, because the idea of just laying down and going to sleep and forgetting about this till tomorrow—like you were lovely talking about earlier today, how a healthy relationship would be—I got to stay up and chastise her on her bad behavior, you know. So I go out and I get me a little bit more of that methamphetamine so I can stay awake and tell her how the cow ate the cabbage. And about six o'clock in the morning, I have an epiphany because, see, she works at an HEB and this epiphany occurs to me that she had taken her clothes to work with her when she left. So my thought is, aha, not only is she behaving badly, but this is premeditated. You know, I've got her now.

9:00 comes around. I go rushing down to where she worked at HEB and I asked her to step outside and talk to me. She comes outside in front of HEB and I started to chastise her on her bad behavior. And the next thing I know, the APD, Austin Police Department—there's a gentleman tapping me on the shoulder and he wants to see my driver's license. He didn't want to talk to her. He wants to talk to me.

And I end up pulling out a driver's license out of my back pocket that's about seven years expired because I don't pay my tickets, you know. I don't upkeep my car because I get pulled over for having my stickers out and stuff like that. And then I don't pay my tickets and it's just this vicious circle of outstanding warrants for you because cops are funny like that, you know. They give you that piece of paper and they like expect you to show up in a minimal amount of time, like two weeks or something. And I haven't been doing that too well.

And this guy being the sleuth that he was immediately deduces that there could be a problem here. And he asks me, he says, "Mr. Shay, do you have any warrants out for your arrest?" And I said, "I don't think so," knowing full well that I do.

Make a long story short, by the time that little engagement was over with me and Mr. Police Officer, I'd been arrested for possession of methamphetamine, possession of cocaine, possession of marijuana, and outstanding traffic tickets. And you know, the first thing that hit my mind is, look what she's done to me now. Yeah, that's where I'm coming. I'm like, now I'm really upset.

I ended up going to—I'm sitting down in jail. I get out after about 30 hours and I've gone and hired me a criminal defense attorney. First time I've ever had to do that before, but now I'm having that lovely experience. And I told him the same story I'm telling you guys. And he looked at me and he said, "Mr. Shay. He goes, "Do you have a problem?"

"A drug problem. Right. And I said, "Yeah, I got a problem. I consider two felonies, constant controlled substance, a problem." And he was kind enough and wise enough and had seen enough. He said, "No, what I'm asking you is, do you think you have a substance problem?" And for some reason, I don't know why the words came out of my mouth. "Yeah, I think I do."

See, because I thought there was one thing I wouldn't have wanted to be in the world is an alcoholic. Because like I said, my dad—my dad was a drinker. He went to AA. If I had any ideas about AA, it was that it didn't work because my dad went and he still drank. And I did not—being a drug addict didn't seem as scary to me, you know? I mean, I grew up in the 70s and Nancy Reagan hadn't come along yet and that's just what people were doing back then. So it didn't seem like there was a stigma attached to it like there was an alcoholic, you know.

And so I'm going over there. I got signed to Travis County Short Program. And I don't know what any of you guys know what that is. It's a drug diversionary program. And one of the things I like to talk about at this point is in the original 100, if you go back in the archives and stuff—I mean, we're not talking, we're talking the original 10. Alcoholic number five was court-ordered. You guys might want to keep that in your hearts when you see guys come in with those little cards to be signed, you know. Ebby was taken out of a courtroom and went and carried the message to Bill. I mean, this stuff's been going on as long as Alcoholics Anonymous has been going on. That is the truth.

I got brought to this program. Originally, God used a power greater than myself—the state of Texas. Texas has decided, DJ, it's time to sober up. And this short program deal, see, they got a pretty fair deal there. They say, if you can stay sober for one year, we will expunge the crimes against you. And I'm thinking, this sounds like a pretty fair deal. Sign me up, right? Because drugs are bad.

And the next thing I know, they got this little fine print down there, and this is where the story ties into alcoholism. It says, "And no alcohol." And I thought that was pretty drastic because, you see, I need to drink. And I'm thinking, I mean, I'm 35 years old. You've arrested me for these charges over here and all this stuff, but what is this about not drinking, guys? You know, I'm just not digging it at all.

The thing is this drug diversionary program is run entirely by recovered alcoholics and addicts right all the way up through from the intake to the judge. And what does that mean you might ask? Well, what that means is you ain't going to BS these people, you know? I mean, they had a—they knew me before I knew me. And they said, "Well, DJ, this is the way it is. If you want in here, you want the crime expunged, you got to sign on the dotted line and no alcohol. That's what it means."

And I'm like, "Okay, I can outsmart these folks, you know. I'll stop doing the other stuff, but I'll just drink." And I mean, they're not going to follow me around, right? But they got some requirements. They want me to go to three of those AA meetings a week, and they want me to go to two groups a week, and they want me to go to intensive outpatient, and they want me to random urinalysis twice a week—stuff like that, you know. I'm thinking, this is a lot of stuff.

And by the way, they got a little line down there in the bottom. It says, "If I cannot stay sober for one year, please lock me up." And I end up and I sign this piece of paper. I don't go to any of those AA meetings. I don't go to those two groups. I ended up in intensive outpatient about three days late. And it was the first time I'd ever heard that term.

This lady—I experience walking into the rooms of recovery. I walked in there and this lady walks up to me and she goes, "Hi, my name's Pam. What's your drug of choice?" And I said, looked at her in the eye and I said, "What do you got?" You know, I thought she was talking about getting loaded. I'm like, "This outpatient might not be bad. They're getting us all together in one spot." You know, she got a little bit frustrated and she's like trying to explain to me what this thing's about. And she's like, she goes, "No." She goes, "What do you like to do?"

You know, I'm like, "I ain't a choosy guy." Because that's the truth. I'll do whatever it takes to change the way I feel inside. Alcohol does something for me more effectively than anything else. But if I don't have it, I'll do whatever it takes to change the way I feel. That's just me.

Finally, she gets—she's getting a little bit upset at this point. And she asked me, "If you could do anything at all, what is it that you want to do?" And I was like, "I'd like to go out in my truck and finish off that half a beer I was drinking on the way here."

And she turned out to be my case manager, you know, and she said, "Buddy, you need to come sit right next to me." And I was talking to some people earlier today and the Big Book says we think treatment would be wise. You know, Bill Wilson got sober in a treatment center. I think a treatment center is a really kind word for a nuthouse personally. You know, it's—you know, cut down to the chase. You know, they sent me to the booby hatch. I couldn't get a sobriety date on the outside because, like I said, I'm now facing the consequences of going to prison.

And the book says, "Given a sufficiently strong reason—ill health, falling in love, perhaps a relationship with Bubba in the future would be a good enough reason for me to stop drinking." You know, and this does not even slow me down, you know. That's why I don't get to put the plug in the jug thing. I wish if I could do that, I never would have showed up at the doors of Alcoholics Anonymous because I'm not a child. I got an idea that this ain't going to look good when I go talk to the judge. You know, I know that bad things are happening in my life. My wife is leaving me. My job is trash. I'm looking at going to prison, guys, you know. And I just don't think I'd do well in there. I don't know. I got a sneaking suspicion that my life is not on an upswing here, but I'm unable to stop drinking. I'm unable to manage the decision to stay stopped.

So because of this particular program and God's grace, God saw fit to send me to the booby hatch before they sent me to prison. And I ended up there on November 3rd, the year 2000. That's my sobriety date. I have not had a drink or any mind-altering substance since that day I walked into that place.

You know, I got to tell you, coming from a playing music background, I mean, I just figured that's where all rock and rollers end up. You know, eventually we all end up going to rehab. And I got this idea that they're just going to lock me up in a little room for 30 days and let me go and everything's going to be okay. If I can just get away from the drugs and the alcohol, I'll be okay because that's what the problem is.

So I go there, you know, I got my Star Wars books packed up and my guitar, and I'm thinking I got a 30-day vacation coming. You know, when they dropped me down off there at SCU, I took my last drink going up the driveway. I will never forget the feeling of sitting there and it's out—it's kind of out in the country like this—just it's beautiful being out here today. I mean, if anybody's wondering if there's a God, I mean I can just look behind me and I can see it, you know.

And I'm sitting there on this little bench and I'm staring through the trees and I know that there's a store about a mile and a half away and I'm thinking I can make it. You know, I can crawl through those bushes like Rambo and get to the store, slam a couple briskies, and make it back to the bench and nobody will know. Because that's the way my thinking is, guys, you know.

The book talks about insanity for 22 pages. You know, my grandmother will do some crazy stuff after she drinks a bottle of Jack, but she is not an alcoholic. The insanity the book talks about is the thoughts that go through my head before I ever take the first drink, you know. And these are the kind of thoughts that are going on.

And by God's grace, for some reason, I just kept going back and sitting down. One thing I probably couldn't have made it—pretty sick by that by that time. I'm feeling pretty bad. I'm detoxing. I detoxed for three days. And these people tripped me out. They wanted me to do stuff like get up early in the morning and they expected me to participate. And they took me up to this place where I met