The Sicker Truth of Recovery From Substance Abuse

The one occurrence that changed forever the way I approached the social institution of religion, or the manner in which I judged the perpetrators of Christianity, or the promoters of it, was the one time I quit on the therapist Tom Bumpas. The pudgy waxed-man had at one time been a minister of some Christian denomination or other and had come recommended to me as a person who could help me in my recovery from substance abuse, which in my case was alcohol but could have been any number of drugs if given the right circumstances to abuse them all properly. I was not prejudiced at any time in my need to emotionally remove myself from my surroundings. But when I finally quit drinking and drugging I knew I needed help to remain sober for the long haul, and at the time, Tom Bumpas seemed my best alternative other than going to a million AA meetings and smoking myself to death while being amped up on enormous amounts of caffeine. So weekly I met with Tom Bumpas and weekly I left his office cold and feeling less of who I thought I was. The last straw in having Tom Bumpas treat me for my disease was in my, I thought, courageous attempt at being honest with the man with his legs crossed sitting across from me by relating to him how I had been kicked out of the Lutheran church. His response to me was an indictment of me as a liar, adding that the one characteristic among all us alcoholics is that we all lie. Without saying a word I stood up and immediately left his office and never went back.

The fact is, I really was excommunicated from the Lutheran church sometime back in the early seventies. I had left my little town in northern Michigan as fast as my white-colored Opel Kadett would carry me as soon as our graduation ceremonies were completed over at the local high school. I think we had to stay an extra day in order to retrieve our diplomas from the Principal, but my only pal and I scadaddled as soon as seemingly possible. For the next couple of years I made no headway in my several attempts to permanently escape my hometown by changing routes I made out west and even the roads that returned me, tail between my legs, back home. In that making of awful hay there was no time for any church attendance, little need to throw into the collection plate or yearly pledge what funds I had scavenged to finance my next escape, and because I also failed to eat the body of Christ or drink his blood I was removed from the rolls of the East Tawas Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church, forever. Just a couple years prior to my removal I could be witnessed in virginal white robe on stage professing my faith in front of the entire congregation after weeks of study and tests in the awful rite of Confirmation.

Yes, I was bitter. And for years I have held a grudge against an institution I would have quit on anyway. The church took my right to quit on them away from me. They quit on me first. But to think that little pudgy pompous bastard believed I was lying about something so true was beyond the pale. Still is. Thomas J. Bumpas of Louisville is not only absurd in his approach to substance abuse therapy, but I think, after all my years being sober, which is over twenty-six years now and counting, that he is dangerous. Today I was actually, I confess, wishing he were dead, but I see he is still practicing. Let this be a warning to you. Unless you go for that sort of thing. Then by all means continue on and have kids and add more to the disease and detriment of our society. Be my guest. You'll get what you deserve. And of course, this all could be a lie.