Category: Recovery From Addictions

My name is Andrew Arthur Dawson and I’m a brother from the New York Theta Chapter of Phi Kappa Psi. I’m also a recovering alcoholic and drug addict who is living in a world today where too many people are suffering and even dying from addictions such as these. And many of them often begin for people during their college years and will go unnoticed especially for those active in fraternities; such as it did for me. I hope in sharing a portion of my own descent into addiction and ascent outward might somehow help provide a level of education to all fraternity brothers out there on just how deadly this disease can be.

My story begins at the end of August 1990, as I headed off to college to begin my freshman year at Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT). I had arrived a few days early for freshman orientation and while I was excited to finally be out a little more on my own, there was also some unsettling fear bouncing around within me due to my previous levels of alcohol consumption.

Seven months earlier on the night that Mike Tyson lost his first boxing match of his career, I had discovered alcohol for the first time in my life and felt its wonderful effects. In the months that followed up until my arrival at RIT, I chased those feelings it gave me and partied quite a bit. Everyone, including myself, just chalked this up to my celebrating the end of my high school days, and no one, not even me, knew that alcohol had already become my master. Having already versed more than once what it felt like to pass out, black out, and throw up profusely when I drank, I found myself in fear about my drinking getting out of control as I unpacked my stuff in my dorm room.

Whether it was fate or not, those first few months at college began with me living in temporary housing, which exposed me to more drinking and partying then anything I had ever experienced before. My initial dorm room was within the home of one of RIT’s biggest social fraternities. Everyone in my family was a member of one of them and all had talked about the partying, which took place in most of them. What I did next was what most alcoholics do all too often throughout most of their active addiction days. I promised myself I wouldn’t let my drinking get out of control, that I wouldn’t ever consume any type of recreational drugs, and that I would steer clear of ever attempting to join any one of the fraternities on campus, including that one I was living in the interim.

Within six months at RIT, I had already broken two of those promises. My drinking had progressed with more nights of partying and I had moved into sampling drugs such as marijuana and magic mushrooms. Because of this, my grades suffered by sliding away from the straight A’s my parents were accustomed to me getting. Since they were paying my tuition, they weren’t too happy and warned me to get my act together. For whatever crazy reason I gave myself back then, I thought the answer to getting myself back on track was to find a fraternity that I could join which might help keep my drinking and drug use in check. I’m sure you might be chuckling at the absurdity of that notion, but alcoholics aren’t generally known for their ability to make rational decisions.

As I began attending events that each of the fraternities on campus were holding for students interested in joining Greek organizations, none were alluring me due to their high amount of drunken debauchery I saw from its members at each of them. I was about to give up the search when someone I knew invited me to come check out a group that was in the process of trying to establish themselves as a recognized fraternity on campus. At it’s current “colony state” that it was referred to by its brothers, the Phi Kappa Psi fraternity seemed very different from the others. Alcohol wasn’t present at their social events for interested candidates. They spoke of striving for leadership and excellence. And they stressed the importance of getting good grades and maintaining responsibility. That was all I needed to see and hear to give them my desire to join. A week later I was given a bid to pledge and accepted it.

Over the next three months as I pledged, my life was under the scrutiny of each of these brothers. At times, I would endure from them what is commonly referred to today as hazing, which thankfully has long since been eradicated from my fraternity. The simple definition for it is when one is forced to perform a strenuous, humiliating, or dangerous task in order to obtain the rite of passage into an organization. Most people think of the movie Animal House with John Belushi when the word hazing comes up. In the case of those days when I pledged, being hazed really just meant the copious use of alcohol, which only further complicated my disease. At some point, I began to get in trouble with RIT police due to my drinking and the brothers of Phi Kappa Psi were forced to give me an ultimatum; remain sober for the rest of pledging or be black-balled. I chose sobriety because I looked up to and wanted what the brothers had, as many were straight A students and strong leaders on campus. I also continued to maintain the belief that my alcoholism could be kept in check if I became an established member of a well-respected fraternity such as them.

In May of 1990, I finished their pledging process and was inducted into the membership of the colony. Within another year, I became a founding father as my colony was inducted into the national organization of the fraternity where we then became known as the New York Theta chapter of Phi Kappa Psi. Sadly, within that same year and the ones to follow until my graduation, while the fraternity would grow healthier and stronger, I would grow more sick and weak from my disease of alcohol and drug addiction.

I tell people today when I speak about recovery from addiction, that there are signs others can see when someone is becoming or has already become an alcoholic or drug addict. In my case, the first was the fact that I had to get drunk every time I picked up alcohol. There was never a time I could have just one drink. As other fellow alcoholics might say, it was “two drinks and then oblivion”. The second sign in my case was the increase in frequency of drunken binges. When I first started drinking in college, I was what one might refer to as a “weekend warrior”, partying only on a Friday or Saturday night. As time went on, that changed and I began to go out on just about every night of the week where I proudly would sport my Greek letters at other fraternity parties on campus. Because I saw so many other members of these fraternities doing what I was doing, I maintained the belief it was ok. Eventually the only night I wasn’t consuming alcohol was on a Sunday, because on some level I had told myself I was leaving that day sober for God. Sadly, that didn’t remain true for very long either. Another sign of the progression of my alcoholism and drug addiction that came after this were the mood swings I began going through. Many of the drugs I was taking on top of the alcohol were contributing to this. Often I became angry and violent and would put my foot or fist through a door or a wall or I’d just resort to breaking things such as empty beer bottles when I partied with my brothers. And then there were the times I’d be on the exact opposite side of the spectrum where I was completely sad and dejected and my brothers would find me crying profusely about something trivial. Rarely was I ever able to stay in a happy mood when I consumed any alcohol or drug.

Unfortunately there were signs too that people weren’t seeing when my disease of alcoholism and drug addiction was beginning to take over completely. By my senior year, I was consuming any liquid left behind in discarded cups and bottles that were lying around parties that had ended for the evening. I was having longer and longer lapses of memory from my many binges. I had started stealing merchandise in local stores to enhance my “highs”. And all of this accumulated to the point where I got into serious trouble on campus in my senior year from some of my drunken behaviors and was placed on double academic probation as a result. I spent my remaining months before graduating from RIT as a “closet drinker” for the fear that if I got caught I knew I’d be kicked out of school. And yet, even with all that destruction which came from my alcohol and drugs consumption, it would take me another six months of descending into further addiction hell before I finally would face the truth that I was an alcoholic and drug addict and begin a life of sobriety from the both of them.

The sad truth was that my Phi Kappa Psi brothers probably couldn’t have saved me from this disease even if they had wanted to. I had to hit rock bottom before anyone could have helped me. The only thing that might have changed the length of my active addiction to alcohol and drugs was if there had been better education provided to my brothers and me about this disease during my active fraternity days. With the aid of Alcoholics Anonymous and God, I gained the education I needed and have now mustered 18 continuous years of sobriety from both alcohol and drugs. Much of my free time now is spent giving back to others who are still suffering from these addictions. By going to prisons, hospitals, detoxes, halfway houses, and other 12 Step based meetings; I share my experience, strength and hope about my life and recovery from addiction to try to help another who is still suffering from it.

It’s my hope to one day be able to go to other chapters in Phi Kappa Psi around the country, and maybe even other fraternities too, and speak of my own journey into the hells of addiction and the rise out of it. I believe that if I was given the chance to share my story to other fraternity brothers, that it might be the exact education that people like me needed in college to understand the severity of the disease. And it’s my belief as well, that hearing my story will create a much deeper connection since it’s coming from one of their own. Then maybe, just maybe, they may gain the knowledge needed to either help themselves sooner than later if they’re suffering from alcoholism or drug addiction, or someone else that they may know is.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson

There are millions of people in this world who are codependent. Most don’t even know that they are, and there are some who do, but are too afraid to change it. For the longest time, I was oblivious to what being codependent even meant. Once I discovered it’s meaning, I lived for years in fear and denial that I was that way, even though I really was.

A codependent person is defined as someone who has excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner, typically one who requires support due to an illness or addiction. In broader terms, it is when a person will place a lower priority on their own needs, while being excessively preoccupied with the needs of others. The simple existence for them is to solely depend on the needs of, or control of, another.

I cringe when I read any definition of codependency now. Each of them describes how I lived for way too long. And the longer I stay free from all of those former behaviors, the more I have been able to see other relationships and people suffering from it just like I did. My most recent observation of codependency in action has actually been of my partner’s sister.

A few years ago, her husband of almost 20 years left her side for someone else, which left her feeling abandoned, scared, and confused. Almost immediately, she jumped into one relationship and shortly thereafter a second one, which has been the one to really show her level of codependency. Over the past year she has been living with a childhood sweetheart who has quite a few physical, mental, and emotional disorders. In addition, he has been unemployed for many years and has no viable income. I’ve spent some time around the two of them and watched those definitions of codependency play themselves out over and over and over again with them. Sometimes it has felt as if I was watching a little boy with his mother. He often asks her permission to do or have certain things just like a boy would of his mother. She in turn scolds him just like a mother would of a child when he doesn’t listen or obey. When she begins to grow tired of him, he often plays the sick card for sympathy and guilt which keeps her from abandoning him. In turn, she continues to avoid her fear of being alone, which is something she never gave herself any of after her marriage ended. Because of this, she remains invested in taking care of this unhealthy man’s life so much, that she is completely unaware of how sick she has become too.

What’s sad about codependency is the enabling that happens when it’s present in any relationship. In my partner’s sister’s relationship, neither are growing or healing from anything. He is controlling her on many levels, while she is doing the same with him as well. Until they both spend time apart from each other alone and work on their own healing, the unfortunate truth is that they will continue to remain sick and codependent on each other to exist.

My pattern of codependency didn’t begin in an intimate relationship like theirs. It began in my childhood with my mother. She was a very mentally and emotionally sick woman who had never healed from some of her own childhood issues. She was in a codependent based relationship as well with my father who too was just as sick. My mother did her best to keep the family together while trying to support my father in so many ways. Sadly, without realizing it, I became codependent with her in my many attempts to bring her happiness. I spent most of my childhood and adulthood doing everything I could to please her and ignored much of my own needs and wants because of it. As I matured, I repeated this pattern in one romantic relationship after another where each of the people I dated were alcoholics, drug addicts, and debt-laden individuals. In some ways, they were all just mirrors of that relationship I had with my mother. What I never realized was I had been repeating my attempts to take care of her with everyone else in my life that I got close to. The sad, but simple, truth was that I sought out those who were just as sick as my mother, whom I could nurture and take care of just like I had with her. It was the easiest way I knew how to avoid seeing just how sick and broken I was like all those people I was trying to fix. Ironically, the person that needing fixing the most was me. Eventually when the pain became great enough, I turned to God for help with all of it. It finally came at the age of 40, when I began spending time alone and healing from all those childhood wounds.

Today I believe the biggest fear that I faced before asking God for help with my codependency, and the one that faces my partner’s sister and anyone else that is still suffering from it, is that of being alone and learning to enjoy one’s own company. In essence, it’s about learning to love oneself. A codependent person doesn’t love themselves because they neglect most, if not all, of their own needs and wants. I sacrificed so much of my own happiness for years trying to take care of my mother and most of the people I had dated or closely befriended. Until I was willing to let go of all of them and work on me alone, I never got any better and instead continued to live with codependent behaviors and in those type of relationships.

Through my hard work and willingness to spend vast amounts of time alone, I’ve been able to work on a better relationship with me and made great strides in healing from all of those fears I carried out of my childhood. I have a healthy partner today who is able to take care of himself. He’s not severely sick in any addiction nor does he suffer from grave mental and emotional disorders. For once, I am experiencing a relationship where I can be myself and not neglect my own needs and wants. I am so grateful to God for the pain that got me to this place of recovery. Because of it, I am truly beginning to feel I am codependent no more.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson

It happens all the time. Friends ask other friends if they can borrow some money. And suddenly there often becomes a complicated and sketchy ordeal for that person being asked.

For the longest time, I was doing quite well on financial level and was faced with those situations of being asked for a loan quite a bit. With the passings of both of my parents and their parents over a short period of time, an amount of money was handed down to me that was nothing to scoff at. Because of my lack of discipline with it, my ego got the best of me and it became pretty obvious to others that I was living with more than most. Unfortunately this led to various complications such as new friends coming into my life solely because I had money, or existing friends expecting me to pay for everything on our social outings because they felt I had more then them. The hardest complication to face though was when those same friends would ask me if they could borrow some money and pay me back later.

Over the years, I had to learn the hard way that it’s best not to offer a loan to anyone you care about. All of the times I have done it were with people I was dating or very close to. In each of those cases, they had major financial issues already going on in their lives at the time of their request. I thought that loaning them money would prevent them from drowning further in their debt that had built up throughout their lives. Upon receiving my loan, there was always initially considerable amounts of gratitude offered. But like it was with my own addictions in life, no one was able to save me from my disease if they took my alcohol or drugs away. No one was able to change the course of my sex and love addictions by any of their actions either. The same held true for all of the other addictions I suffered from. There were no amounts of anything anyone could do to alter my course of self-destruction. In most cases, I have found the same principle to hold true with those with massive money issues. Often I found spending money was an addiction in itself for these people. So for each of them who I lent money to, within a short period of time, all of it was gone and usually spent on everything but what it was supposed to help the person with. And even when it was spent paying off bills, it only gave them the appearance that everything was good again. Most would go out on further spending sprees because of this, racking up more debt with any other money that was coming to them. The result would always end with their debt only increasing. What transpired next after all of this, in each of these loans were the things that frustrated me the most.

First, there were the apologies and sincere attempts at statements from them saying they didn’t know what happened. Next came their waves of self-pity and promises that they would pay me back, but it might take a little more time. Finally, many would ask for another loan on top of the one existing and say that they knew exactly what they needed to do this time around to fix everything and pay me back. Sadly, no one ever did. What’s even worse are the guilt trips I would often get from them saying that I didn’t understand what’s it like to be in their shoes. Some would even play the friend card and and get very angry with me on how bad of a friend they felt I was because I didn’t want to loan them more money. All of this is what has led me to take a different position today with money.

Ironically I don’t have what I used to anymore to loan anyway, but even so, I have come to decide that it’s just not healthy to establish loans with friends. Not for me and not for them. It’s rare that I have ever seen a person desire a loan where they weren’t spending way out of their means already. And if they are already spending out of their means, then they are going to spend the money being loaned to them out of their means as well. On the contrary, a person with good financial management generally won’t ask for a loan from a friend in the first place. More often than not, if they need a loan, they are able to go to banks and other financial institutions because they have spent their money wisely and know how to pay their debts off. In those cases of people who reach out to friends and ask for loans, most can’t go to a bank because of the bad credit they have from their previous spending. And if a bank is unwilling to lend a person money, it’s because there’s history and good potential that the person won’t pay any new debts off. For those I tried to save financially, I dealt with this first hand and even worse, many never even intended to pay me back to start with.

As a recovering addict of so many things, sometimes it’s best to just let people fall as hard as they can to a rock bottom place. It’s at those places where I’ve found my biggest push to find recovery in my life from whatever the addiction is that got me there. In the case of those who over spend and over borrow, becoming broke and having no one willing to loan them money is the best wake up call for them. I enabled many people for a long time with their money addictions. I lost friends over it and experienced a number of terrible ordeals all because of lending money to those I cared about. The sad truth in my case is that approximately 95% of the hundreds of thousands of dollars I loaned over the years to friends, was never paid back to me.

My philosophy today surrounding this issue has changed greatly because of all of this. I consider myself a God-centered person now who definitely wants to do the next right thing for people in the hopes it might help their lives. Loaning money isn’t one of them though especially to those who already are in financial crisis. It has proven throughout the years to do nothing more than cause greater pain, hardship, and stress for all parties involved. Instead, when I’m asked for a loan today, I either decline and offer my love and support in other ways instead, or in rare cases, I’ll give them a donation with no expectations of it ever coming back. This solution seems to be working and I haven’t lost any friends because of it. Maybe that’s because I asked God to help me with this, as it looks like he has.

Peace, love, light, and joy,

Andrew Arthur Dawson