Golf star Tiger Woods had Vicodin, Dilaudid, Xanax, Ambien and THC (tetrahydrocannabinol) in his system when he was arrested on suspicion of driving under the influence in May, according to a toxicology report released Monday. -ESPN
In 2011, I lived in a sober house with a guy I’ll call ‘Bill.’ Bill is an alcoholic, in his late 40s, and is also an arrogant, fat, asshole.
I remember sitting around in what amounts to “group” with about 10 guys living in the house. The guest speaker leading the group–2 years sober at the time–was talking about another kid we all knew in the program. He used his name and told a story relating to what we were talking bout. Arrogant Bill raised his hand, and said, “What’s the A-word? I have trouble pronouncing it…”
The speaker paused for a while, and realized what he was getting at.
“Yeah, that one. I’m pretty sure we don’t use names,” Bill said in the most condescending way humanly possible.
Now, you may be thinking hmmm, I think Bill has a point there. Isn’t AA a program that demands anonymity?
Our guest speaker, far more polite than I am, acknowledged his point and found a way to move on. But I know Bill. I know Bill because there’s probably a fat Bill in me somewhere. Bill was an arrogant wine drinker who had his family send him to the sober house because he was out of his tits drunk all the time. But he was financially successful and looked down on all of us even though he refused to find a job because none compared to the one he used to have. I knew after 10 minutes Bill suffered from an acute lack of humility. Bill left the house two weeks later and nobody has heard from him again.
I bring this up because there’s definitely a little Bill in Tiger Woods. I sympathize to some degree with what looks like an obvious drug dependency/addiction going on in someone who should have been, without question, the greatest golfer ever to live. But when he made that statement after the DUI, fat fuck Bill flags went up all over the place:
“Recently, I had been trying on my own to treat my back pain and a sleep disorder, including insomnia, but I realize now it was a mistake to do this without medical assistance
Could be the single greatest sentence of denial in celebrity history. Dude, you had a pharmacy of drugs in your system. You got addicted to pain meds. Fucking own it and get yourself better.
I can only imagine what my mea culpa would have been to my parents had I known this was possible.
Dear Mom and Dad,
After many nights of waking up with my sheets covered in red wine, I’ve realized I have a real problem. I cannot seem to find a way to keep my sheets clean. I think it may be an executive functioning issue that wasn’t properly addressed by teachers.
Upon further reflection, I’ve also come to terms with the fact that when I take pills–Tylenol, sleep meds, Vicodin, whatever–I seem to suffer from calculation errors. See, from my calculation, if two Ambien work really well, then by the transitive property, 6 would work extraordinarily well. This has turned out to be false, because I keep seeing spiders in my sleep and lose track of days. Also, because I broke into a house I used to live in and the cops say that’s breaking and entering.
There are plenty of people who swear by the tenants of AA and anonymity. I’m not one of them.
Even though I don’t run to my co-workers telling them I had to move to Maine to get my life straight, I don’t and won’t hide from it. I used to jump from meeting to meeting in Massachusetts afraid someone would spot me. My biggest fear was seeing a parent of some kid I taught.
But I strongly believe if you’re like arrogant Bill or Tiger, and refuse to call a spade a spade–you’re fucked. Because if you don’t commit to the diagnosis, you sure as hell will not commit to the solution.
You know why more people don’t broadcast the diet they are on?
Because nobody wants to get caught making out with the dollar menu at McDonalds.