Over a 10-year period from 1994 to about 2004 I worked as an alcohol and other drug counsellor with people who wanted, or the courts or their families wanted, to quit using substances.  I’ll admit now to the people who said to me ‘That must be hard work’, that it was!  Very hard work!  

There’s a model used in alcohol and other drug work, Prochaska and Di Clemente’s ‘Stages of Change’ model, which helps to track people’s movement from not identifying the need for change (the pleasures are greater than the pains); to contemplating change as the pleasure being gained was waning and the pain and problems attached to deciding to change increasing; followed up by a decision to change, preparing for the change, making the change or changes  and hopefully, maintaining the change for a long period. 

The model also reminded all involved that relapse was common at any stage, that the average number of attempts to change was seven…. that quitting is indeed ‘Hard Work’.  It's very hard work for people trying to quit or even reduce substance use, it's also hard work for those working to support their efforts to change. 

Later I taught people taking the Certificate IV in Alcohol and Other Drug Work and Diploma of Community Welfare who would work with people dependent on alcohol and other drugs.  At the beginning of our classes I always asked them to give up something they loved for a week and to write a journal about the experience.   We laughed and laughed as they read out their journals the following week… quitting was so hard! 

I always participated in the activity, usually choosing to have another go at my long quest to give up coffee.   I had ‘made myself’ drink coffee (“ugh”!) as a student at Monash University in the late 1960’s… and despite trying many times I’ve barely stopped ever since.  I usually had to report that I had, in fact binged on Day 1, had reverted to substitution of decaffeinated coffee on Day 3, and hadn’t manage to quit at all by Day 7.   

I also read out to them a piece by legendary Australian writer Henry Lawson who was dependent on alcohol for much of his adult life to help them to better understand people who struggled to quit…. I’m adding it below for you to read. 

Before I go … I’ve just had a cup of coffee, and think I’ll have another one!...

Beverley

..........

Dear Bulletin

I’m awfully surprised to find myself sober.  And, being sober, I take up my pen to write a few lines, hoping they will find you as I am at present. I want to know a few things. In the first place: Why does a man get drunk? There seems to be no excuse for it.  I get drunk because I am in trouble, and I get drunk because I’ve got out of it. I get drunk because I’m sick, or have corns, or the toothache: and I get drunk because I’m feeling well and grand. I get drunk because I was rejected; and I got awfully drunk the night I was accepted. And, mind you, I don’t like to get drunk at all, because I don’t enjoy it much, and suffer hell afterwards. I’m always far better and happier when I’m sober, and tea tastes better than beer. But I get drunk. I get drunk when I feel that I want a drink, and I get drunk when I don’t. I get drunk because I had a row last night and made a fool of myself and it worries me, and when things are fixed up I get drunk to celebrate it.  And, mind you, I’ve got no craving for a drink.  I get drunk because I’m frightened about things, and because I don’t care a damn.  Because I’m hard up and because I’m flush.  And, somehow, I seem to have better luck when I’m drunk.  I don’t think the mystery of drunkenness will ever be explained – until all things are explained, and that will be never. A friend says that we don’t drink to feel happier, but to feel less miserable. But I don’t feel miserable when I’m straight. Perhaps I’m not perfectly sober right now, after all. I’ll go and get a drink, and write again later.

Henry


An edited version of 'I Quit', written for the class in 2015
Suggested Reading... Henry Lawson - Poet of the People - the Battle with the Bottle https://www.sl.nsw.gov.au/stories/henry-lawson-poet-people/hard-times

In the late 1970’s and early 1980’s I was working in a management role for a large international vehicle manufacturer. I was performing well in my role, and did in fact attract the attention of the American Managing Director, of the privately owned company. In the early 1980’s the world was going through another of the cyclic ‘financial crises’, when the division that I was managing, and another division in Canada, were the only two divisions of the company world- wide, that were making a profit.  This resulted in the MD making a trip to Australia to meet me during his round of other business meetings.

Following this visit, it was announced that we were going to have an Australian MD, instead of the traditional American one. What followed was somewhat of a shock. The company operated on the fiscal year and my salary and bonus structure were set during the first calendar months of the year. My base salary and the bonus criteria had been set and signed off.

The new Australian MD decided that mid- year (September), he would change the bonus criteria, which would result in a substantial drop in the bonus payment. It not only impacted me, but all of the senior managers within the company. I was told that my bonus structure would be amended and that I would be paid based on the new criteria. After some deep and meaningful discussions, the new MD agreed to pay my bonus payment based on the original criteria, as I had already exceeded the fiscal year targets agreed. Following this discussion I handed in my resignation, as did another six senior managers in the company.

Looking back on this action, it became apparent that what the new MD was doing, was ridding the company of anybody who might prove a threat to his position in the future.  The company did continue to function, despite the negative and regressive attitude of the new MD.  
​
Barry O’Connor.
June 2023.

There have not been many instances where I have said “ I QUIT”

One was in the middle of a 100 metre sprint. I had just discovered that I was good at running but I went into the race exhausted. I had not trained for the event. I had taken part in several other shorter sprint races and  some long distance races earlier in the day and they had had an effect. I had pulled up sore and by the final sprint which was the 100 metre I was very sore.  I had pulled several muscles in my legs. I was in pain. Some muscles in my body were screaming with pain. Real pain. I had little reserve strength. I could hardly breath. I had little inner strength to call on. I could not exert myself without experiencing great pain. I felt exhausted.

I went through the first 50 metres attempting to strive as best I could but at 50 metres when I would normally make exertions for greater  speed I made a decision. The pain was not worth it. I felt that I should withdraw from the world. The pain was too much.  Did I care about how people felt about me. I said I quit. I slackened off and took the last 50 metres slowing down. I finished in 4th place.

I have regretted it ever since.

Once was when I was 22 and my life fell apart. To be more precise it could be said it virtually came to an end. A dead end. I had no future. I had destroyed my past. My private life had become none existent. I had destroyed my private life. I did not know it but I was immature. I could not understand where I was going. I could not understand what was happening. I did not know how fortunate I had been In the life I had previously had.  I seemingly went out of my way to make things worse. I almost felt the need to go the whole way and destroy my life. I thought that I could fix my private life by being destructive. I had the urge be overly honest with my work.  I talked myself out of two jobs in quick succession. I lived by myself and actually felt lonely. I was alienated from my family. I had taken a job in local government. The job had no depth to it. I was someone's assistant. I spent most of the day sitting doing nothing.  I knew I had no future.

I said to myself,  "I quit". And I really did quit. There and then.  I instinctively burnt my bridges behind me. I quit everything.

I have never regretted it ever since.

If asked, I would deny that I am a quitter.  On reflection, though, I can readily recall four occasions - two jobs; music and lawn bowls.

Job 1: Victorian Producers Co-op (VPC), with whom I was employed for nearly 17 years.
Job 2: Producers and Citizens Co-op - I lasted 12 months.
Music: I was tutored for approximately 18 months.
Lawn Bowls:  I have been a member of the Benalla Bowling Club for 65 years, but actually quit bowling 10 years ago.

Job 1:  I commenced in February 1950 as a 17 year old school leaver in Benalla.  I spent five years in the Benalla complex where I learned the fundamentals of primary production and book-keeping procedures.  On feeling that I was not progressing in my employment, I transferred to the St Arnaud branch of the company in 1955.  This was a backward step, as I soon found out that for the majority of the time I was typing grocery invoices (the branch had an accompanying grocery store).

In 1958, in what I first thought was a positive move, I transferred to the Wodonga branch of the company.  I was soon to learn that there were a minimum of three livestock sales conducted each week.  These sales involved me in not only being a booking-clerk and delivery boy, but also invoicing and accounting clerk at the office of an evening.  I was continually working up to 60 hours per week.  As one might expect, this work-load caused me to suffer nervous debility.  A neurologist counselled me to "study accountancy and work for yourself".  As a result I transferred to the Head Office of the company and became assistant branch auditor.  On the request of my then, now Benalla Branch manager, I was, after some two years, returned to Benalla to resume my initial role as a branch accountant.  After some five years I felt that I was not achieving, and I quit!

Job 2:  Having been encouraged to do so, I transferred to an associated insurance company.  I won't spend time on detailing this job as I soon found that I was totally unsuited to this profession.  In absolute frustration, and without another job to go to, I quit after a term of 12 months.

Music:  When my children were young we encouraged them to learn to play the organ and piano.  I had personally regretted that I had not had the opportunity to do so myself.  I told of this regret to the tutor, and even though I was 50 years of age, she enticed me to commence learning to play the organ.  And so for 18 months she included me in her tutorage.  At year's end there was a concert given for parents of all the students.  I was included as a student, and yes!  I made a complete balls-up!  So much so, that I have never sat at a music stool since.  I quit!

Lawn Bowls:  I commenced bowling in 1958 at the age of 26 years.  To my surprise I found that I was quite proficient in this sport.  I played in the Ovens and Murray A-grade division from my frst year until approximately 1984, and then in the B-grade division until I broke my pelvis in 2014.  I used this mishap as an excuse, but must admit that my expertise had been slipping and I was on the verge of retirement anyhow.  I quit bowling at this opportunity.

And so, these are an acknowledgement of the occasions on which I have been guilty of QUITTING!!

Ray O'Shannessy
June 2023
​

​“Music can have a powerful effect on our emotions and create a lasting impact.”

I  have been asked to describe an experience when I got lost in a single piece of music, and what made it so unforgettable. What I am about to describe is not what you expected, but here goes.

In my young days I would have dearly loved to learn to play the piano. The opportunity never arose.

Later on, in my late life parenthood, Bernadette and I went to the Benalla Show and encountered an Organ retailer.  At this stage in our life we had four children and were soon convinced that it would be a good idea to involve them in music. It didn’t take the organ retailer long to convince us that his “easy to play” organ would be just the thing. So $1200 lighter we took delivery.

The two boys, being approximately aged 10 and 12 at this stage, showed enthusiasm so we arranged with a music teacher, Mrs.Schulz, to tutor them. I would take them down to her McIvor Street home of an evening to get their lessons. I told her of my earlier desire to learn to play the piano and she convinced me that she could teach me to play the organ. So,…at age 50 years…I commenced lessons.

The three of us would go, weekly, for lessons, and …….for a 50 year old…….I slowly learned my chords. Nowhere near as easy as the man at the show ground had told us, so I struggled on.. Our eldest son Anthony took to learning, but to Peter it was a chore.

Mrs Schulz moved house to a farm a number of kilometres out on the Yarrawonga Road. So we would travel of a Tuesday evening out to her farm.  She had a number of students and at years end she arranged for all her students , with their parents in attendance, to give a recital. This applied also to the “old stager” …me!

The children all played to the delight of their parents, showing their talent….Then it was my turn!

After two years I had learned a number of elementary tunes and Mrs.Schulz had fine tuned me  for my performance and so, apprehensively, I commenced to play… Then the worst possible thing happened! All of my fingers became thumbs! Consequently I gave the worst performance of my life. The parents, good naturedly applauded me……but I knew!.... I was no musician.

Here was my experience with a single piece of music. What made it so unforgettable?

In real life I am not a quitter. But this embarrassment was more than I could bear. I quit!

I have not sat on an organ stool since.
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy.
28/11/17.

There was a rule in our house that you couldn’t leave school until you had a job.

I had enjoyed school until we moved suburbs, and therefore school, when I was seven and a half, part way through grade three. Not good at making friends and trying to adjust to new classrooms, teachers and methods of teaching made school a painful challenge.

High school was better, a fresh start with all our year level being newbies. However, being one of the youngest, already socially immature, along with all the other teenage issues I began to struggle again by Year 10, or Form 4 as it was known then. Being good at schoolwork was a mixed blessing – I could pass tests with little effort and minimal study preparation but when the curriculum changed to assignment-based assessment I didn’t do so well. I gave my parents and the school a conundrum when I both failed Form 4 and aced the scholarship exam. They finally let me go up to Form 5 on probation; I wonder what would have happened if I’d instead repeated the year.

Another issue for me was that I had no direction, the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?” had always perplexed me. At one time I thought I might be a vet as I liked, and related well to animals, but when I found out the length of further schooling ahead to qualify, I wrote that off.

I couldn’t see myself completing Form 6’s HSC as everyone was saying how hard it was, and university didn’t seem to be in my future. At school there were few subjects I really enjoyed and although my small group of friends were wonderful, I began to focus on the negatives. I experienced failure, anxiety and confusion, unwanted attention from a few boys, unwarranted bitchiness from a couple of girls, unfair treatment from some teachers and high expectation from others!

It was all too much – I had to escape. But the escape route could only be reached by finding a job. And so, not long before I turned 16, that is what I did.

I quickly found a job working with horses and even got paid for the privilege! Unfortunately, this role didn’t last long, but after an even shorter stint in retail I began work as a printer’s assistant.  It was there that I met my husband-to-be and started another chapter of my life.

-   -   -   o   o   O   o   o   -   -   -
​
​Postscript: A decade later I changed my mind on the subject of schooling when we had a small business and I needed to learn bookkeeping. I found that tertiary qualifications at TAFE, even as a mature age student, could be fun, interesting and achievable. Over the years I have added a university degree, a second diploma, several work-based certificates, other learning credentials and now, U3A!


Phiona Rhodes
​June 2023

I grew up in a family where both parents were smokers. My father started smoking when he was 12 years old as I understand it, and my mother started smoking the day she left home to go to University in Christchurch, Canterbury NZ. This was her “growing up moment”, she could make her own decision and buy her own cigarettes.

As a child we lived in a cigarette smoke household and as younger children, my sister and I used to steal some tobacco from our father’s packet to go for a walk around the farm to smoke our contraband!!!

When I achieved my driver’s licence at 16, I was allowed to take the family car to go for a night out in Rotorua for a movie. I also took the opportunity to buy some cigarettes (Capstan 10’s).  Also, when we went to Church sometimes in a neighbouring area we walked to the local shop and purchased the clandestine cigarettes!!

The day I left home at 18, with my cousin, we drove to Christchurch 2 days away and a 10 hour drive!

The first thing I did was to purchase a packet of cigarettes and commenced full time smoking….

I then smoked up to 20 cigarettes per day - usually Rothmans, a packet of 20 cigarettes.
All through university and even when I applied for the Air Force as a pilot and struggled with the fitness required, I kept on with the smoking…

I passed my Wings course and was posted to a medium range transport squadron flying a Hawker Siddeley Andover.

Every year I had to complete a Pilots medical to allow me to be a “fit and compliant “pilot.
Having been recently married, my wife was a non-smoker, so I gave up smoking in bed!!! Also smoking at our dinner table after our dinner!!

In 1978 I underwent the normal annual pilots medical examination and the Chief Medical Officer sat me down and said “you have to give up smoking otherwise I will cancel your medical and ground you”.

This was an “Oh Shit” moment!

So the new programme to give up smoking began…..

I gave up immediately, however within three weeks I was back on the cigarettes!!

Tried again a month later and this time lasted a little longer… This was due to enjoyment of cigarettes during social occasions!

On the third time I came home from three days away on a freight shuttle flight and when sitting with my wife in front of the fire I finished the cigarette packet and threw it in the fire.

The next morning, I woke up and went out for a run. Hurt like hell, but I returned and from then on every morning I got up and ran. I also ate a lot of food that the Loadmasters gave to me with a coffee with two sugars!! I gained 4 stone in weight over the next 12 months!!!
 
Finally I had quit smoking.

I left the air force and, when overseas in the UK, I went for a run one morning and could easily run 5 miles without stress from breathing. I also lost all my excess weight through hard physical exercise/work in shearing 200 sheep per day in Wales and England.

I’ve never wanted to smoke again.  I have been off the fags for 44 years now and have felt really healthy. My wife really appreciated the quitting of cigarettes as she also was having sinus problems due to my smoking. A win all around, and I love the healthy life I have!!!!


James Davey
​June 2023

I quit!
 
I quit playing the game of Catan. 
 
I have been playing this game for about five years. It is a game, adapted to the IPad, which my family in Melbourne played as a board game through the pandemic. The game involves building, trading, seafaring …. and ‘strategizing’.
 
Harper (9) became the expert much to the frustration of Lily (13), who commented to her younger sister, ‘Harper, you are very lucky.’
 
In response, Harper replied, it is strategy Lily, not luck.
 
I became addicted to Catan
 
I have played it very frequently and compulsively. I have even identified a set of life skills from this game, ingredients for success both in the game and in life.
 
A justification for continuing to play the game?
 
On reflection, I have successfully used this game to relax both body and mind. On the other hand I have also used it to avoid confronting some of my own anxiety and pain. It has been a cheap alternative to alcohol, gambling or other avoidance strategies.
 
The last three years have been personally challenging. I have made major decisions about lifestyle, location, friendships and life direction. Yet I have been ‘invited’ to explore my own disappointments, failures, emotional wounds, loneliness and priorities. To revisit events in my life that I thought I had ‘moved on’ from but which have left a legacy, is uncomfortable to acknowledge.
 
It is now time to quit Catan!
 
But as any addict knows, withdrawal or abstinence is not easy. It is simple to delete the app from my iPad in a moment of frustration. I have done that thirty/forty, perhaps a hundred times. Invariably though, I have reinstalled when my defenses are down or I convince myself that this addiction can be ‘managed’.
 
For me, to quit requires that I become more honest about who I am. Thus this memoir!
 
When anxiety surfaces I can find other avenues to redirect through pruning or gardening, walking or sharing a coffee. But I can also seek stillness and insight. My healing paths asks of me for an honesty and uncomfortable and unsettling emotions, momentarily increasing my anxiety and stress. It also asks of me to relinquish personal control and be open to asking for and receiving personal support and caring from others.
 
Externally, I can look confident, self-assured, sometimes arrogant, boastful, a ‘know it all’ or even someone who has ‘got it all together’. Very infrequently do I reveal the ‘scared little kid’ who feels out of his depth or bewildered and daunted by the challenges of living alone.
 
To be transparent, I have used Catan to blunt the edges of this angst but now I have discovered that I cannot escape the searching light of an early morning ‘visitation’. Sometimes the ‘dark night of the soul’ can be distressing. Yet it is in this darkness that I am beginning to find a new light.
 
This memoir is a first step. It is a public acknowledgement that I have had a problem not unlike other addictions. It is an acknowledgement that within my anxieties there is a path that involves recognizing that I cannot do it myself, that I need other people’s support, love and encouragement.
 
Thank you for listening.
 


Graham Jensen
June 2023