Derek Neary
Northern News Services

Jean Marie River (Apr 19/02) - Stan Sanguez vividly remembers the pain he endured from living with alcoholic parents, but he couldn't stop himself from inflicting that same pain on his own four children.

Stan Sanguez is a recovering alcoholic. The chief of the Jean Marie River First Nation completed a 28-day rehabilitation program in Bonnyville, Alta., earlier this month. - Derek Neary/NNSL photo

At age eight, after completing his school year at Lapointe Hall residential school in Fort Simpson, Stan recalls the float plane taking him back to his home community.

The excitement pulsed through him as he ran up the embankment to his Jean Marie River home, the whole summer ahead of him.

Then the stench of alcohol of tobacco smoke struck him as he found his parents inside, heavily intoxicated.

"Son of a bitch, I just ran behind the door and I was just crying. I loved my dad and my mom so much," he said.

Thirty-four years later it was his youngest daughter's tears that finally helped Stan Sanguez realize that he had become exactly what he swore he would never be, an alcoholic.

"All of a sudden my baby says, 'Daddy you're drinking again.' And then my baby cries," he said.

And so goes the cycle of alcoholism.

Stan started drinking at age 12.

"When I was a kid I would look at (alcoholics) and I'd say, 'Well, I'm not going to end up like them.' And I ended up like them," he said. "To us, drinking is normal, drugging is normal ... for f**k's sake, it's not normal. Over the years you learn how to deny, how to lie ... You end up having this chip on your shoulder for a long time ... When you're drinking, you're blind. You don't listen. You don't hear what people are saying.

"Damn it, what I've gone through, I don't want the kids in the school to go through that."

His addiction gradually transformed into weekend binging, which included smoking marijuana.

The overindulgence hampered him for days afterwards.

"Monday morning you're sick. You try to go back to work, try to function. It takes a whole day and a half or two days to get yourself back. On Wednesday you feel better. It's just like a routine," he said. "Now I really look at it and it was a problem."

There were people in the community who urged him to straighten out his life, including an elder. Following a period of overindulgence during the Christmas holidays, Stan, chief of Jean Marie River, said this particular elder wept over his sorry condition during a New Year's fire-feeding ceremony.

"But when you are using you don't give a shit about anybody," he said.

Reaching out for help

The physical effects of chronic alcohol abuse -- vomiting, an ulcer and an irritable stomach -- caught up with him. He knew he had to do something.

Last month, before leaving for the Dene/Metis Rehabilitation Centre in Bonnyville, Alta., he and his family gathered and cried.

Upon his arrival at the treatment centre, it took him nearly two weeks to openly admit he had a problem. "I just wanted to stay quiet, but eventually I had to (tell the truth) because I was there for a purpose, to try to heal myself ... I said, 'My name is Stan. I'm an alcoholic. I smoked pot so that means I'm a dual addict.'"

He had watched a brother and a sister die from their addictions. "I thank God that I didn't go that far. I'm not a statistic."

Over the 28-day treatment program, he attended Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, Narcotics Anonymous meetings and sharing circles.

"You've got to look deep inside you at what's bothering you. Once you learn how to deal with what's bothering you then you feel better.

"The treatment has really helped me understand myself more. I feel really good.

"I went to the treatment centre because of me ... you've got to go there for yourself."

Fending off the bottle

Although he has completed the rehabilitation program, he admits he still has an inclination to reach for a bottle.

"This thirst of having a cold one is there all the time and I hate that," he said. "But every time I have that I just talk to somebody here."

There are others in the community, population 56, who are recovering. Stan said he feels comfortable being open with them.

He knows the possibility of a relapse is always there, but he said he's trying to think positively and he wants to avoid the overwhelmingly sick state associated with binging.

He has received moral support from his community members.

During the spring carnival local residents held a feast and presented Stan with a hunting knife as acknowledgement of his willingness to turn his life around.

"I'm happy they recognized me for that," he said.

He wanted to give something back, but realized he couldn't do anything more meaningful than what he had already done.

"The greatest gift that I ever gave anybody was to open up myself with my problem. The greatest gift was that I had the courage to go in (the rehabilitation centre) and deal with this situation, this addiction," he said. "I need to live my good life now."

He plans to mend his children's wounds and show them he can be a better father.

"I need them to love their dad again, not to fear their dad because he is coming home drunk or getting mad at them ... I'm here to love you and I'm hoping that you love me the way I love you. It takes time for healing."

Somewhere to turn

He is also turning his attention back to Jean Marie River's community visioning plan.

One of the identified achievable goals is to increase sobriety.

Stan has taken the first steps. He's hoping his friends and neighbours will do the same.

"I'm not here to preach ... I'm not here to judge. I'm just saying ... if you want this pain to go away then there's this centre here, there's stuff out there that can help you."