Landon Boyd knew he would die in Alabama.
He was born to a mother who needed alcohol to live, a father who left before he had a name and a community that drank no matter the occasion.
But despite where he came from, he performed well in school and played football like it was something he was born to do. It wasn’t until an injury took him out of the game, that apathy set in and he turned his sights to the bottom of a bottle.
“I started experimenting with alcohol in high school,” Landon says. “Not everyday, but I would drink at parties and get togethers. One of my first warning signs was, whenever we did drink, I would always be the only one that never passed out. I would always be the one to drink the most and still be coherent.”
That’s how he found himself graduating high school on a tidal wave of tequila. And since he had decided college wasn’t worth the stress years before he had even held a beer, he went straight into the army to escape his tumultuous home life.
It was soon enough after leaving high school that Landon’s life began to look much like how the story goes: At 19 years old, he met a woman, settled down, and had a baby girl with a smile just like his. It was happily ever after, but there was just one caveat.
He needed to drink in order to stomach it all.
“I couldn’t stay sober for anything, because when I came home I didn’t want to feel anything,” Landon says. “It wasn’t that I enjoyed the drinking, it wasn’t fun. It was functioning. It was the only way I could face my reality. It was to the point that I tried to feel nothing, and I succeeded.”
For most, 10 years is a long time to watch life pass by, but for Landon, the speed at which time moved was slowed to a snail’s pace. Name whatever comes to mind — vodka, bourbon, tequila, beer — if it had an alcohol content, Landon had at least two in hand.
That’s how, come the year that would have marked the 10th anniversary of Landon’s marriage, two things came to pass simultaneously. One, his relationship would end in a hailstorm of long repressed emotions. Two, his drinking would send him into a life-changing spiral.
According to the Alcohol Rehab Guide, “People with high stress, anxiety, depression and other mental health conditions are more vulnerable to developing alcoholism. In these types of circumstances, alcohol is often used to suppress feelings and relieve the symptoms of psychological disorders.”
Following his stint in the military, Landon suffered from depression, which culminated in him drinking over a gallon of vodka a day. His substance abuse disorder became incredibly dire as a result, to the point he kept a bottle under his pillow at night just so he could take three or four hard chugs of the stuff in order to get out of bed. It was at this point he was diagnosed with cirrhosis, or scarring, of the liver.
“I was dying, and I didn’t want to die,” Landon says. “But I was slowly committing suicide. I was puking blood, I was shaking constantly, I couldn’t see and I couldn’t hardly remember things. My brain was always in a fog.”
The haze that Landon lived in is a common symptom of alcoholism. This loss of reality and connection to the symptoms is increasingly exacerbated the longer an individual drinks.
“As the body’s control center, the impairing effects of alcohol quickly impede the normal function of areas all over the body,” the Alcohol Rehab Guide says. “Short-term symptoms indicating reduced brain function include difficulty walking, blurred vision, slowed reaction time, and compromised memory. Heavy drinking and binge drinking can result in permanent damage to the brain and nervous system.”
Unfortunately for Landon, this blur that accompanied alcohol abuse was only thickened by his growing penchant for drugs, including methamphetamines and cocaine.
Knowing that death was an imminent threat if he stayed in Alabama, Landon made a choice. He took what he could and left town to head north where he heard the rehab programs were reliable and alcohol was therefore less compelling. Over the next couple of years, he slowly traveled — exclusively on foot — from northern Alabama to Indianapolis.
During this time, Landon took cover wherever he could find it. Salvation Army, tunnels under bridges, bus stations and VA hospitals all served as temporary shelters.
It was only upon his eventual arrival in Circle City that he was finally able to discover a kindness and safety unlike any other he had encountered.
“Recovery is painful, physically,” Landon says. “But once I got here, I came across places that blew my mind with how much they actually genuinely care. They don’t call you by your last name here, they call you nicknames. They’re friends with you on Facebook, they’ll come knock on your door and check on you.”
One of those friends that Landon met in Indiana was Kevin Shafer.
Kevin, began drinking at 10 years old, and has been sober for 13 years now. Currently, he serves as a District Committee Member (D.C.M.) and Chairman for Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.).
According to A.A., “The D.C.M. is a key link in ensuring that all the A.A. groups are aware of the importance of their total participation in local, district, area and world services.” In addition to this, D.C.M.s are elected officials that serve for two-year periods of time.
As a recovered drug and alcohol abuser himself, Kevin knew the path to sobriety was littered with meth-filled potholes and shattered bottles of vodka. Seeing that Landon needed help navigating the road, he extended a hand.
“[Landon] dated my niece. They broke up on pretty good terms, they just didn’t want to be together anymore, and he had no place to go, so my niece asked me if he could come and stay with me for a couple of weeks, ” Kevin says. “We ended up forming a pretty good friendship, and now it’s more of a father-son relationship, and he looked at me as a good mentor.”
It was during this initial period when Landon stayed with him that Kevin found out he was continuing to abuse drugs and alcohol.
“He was still drinking and doing some other substances at that time … and he was hiding them from me,” Kevin says. “One day, I told him I was going to McDonald’s and I came back early and he hadn’t heard me come in the door and I caught him putting away the methamphetamine pipe into his dresser.”
Furious, Kevin asked him to leave so that Landon’s habits would not compromise his sobriety. Landon agreed, and left for a period of nine months until his health issues once again rendered him homeless.
That’s how he and Kevin were ultimately able to reconcile their differences.
“What keeps me sober now is remembering how bad I was,” Landon says. “How sick I was, how painful it was. How many people I hurt, and how bad I hurt myself. And that keeps me from ever wanting to go back.”
Throughout the course of his time in the Indianapolis program, Landon was planning to move. He eventually settled on Muncie as his destination.
As of publication, Landon Boyd is 36 years old and has maintained his sobriety for approximately 18 months. Going forward, he eventually plans to return to school to pursue a career as a rehabilitation specialist and eventually move to the Pacific Northwest.
Though Landon is looking forward to fulfilling these lofty dreams, he says he isn’t quite ready to leave his newfound family, sobriety and community. This is why — for now at least — Landon is content to call Muncie his unexpected home.
If you or a loved one is currently struggling with alcohol/drug abuse in Delaware County, please reach out to Shaffer for literature and guidance at (765)212-8352. You can also call the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services national helpline at 1-800-662-4357.
Sources: Alcohol Rehab Guide, A.A. General Service Conference-Approved Literature
