How Prison Taught Martin To Forgive Himself
On New Years Eve 2003, Martin Lockett did what countless others did that evening… he drove under the influence of alcohol. (Honestly, I probably drank and drove that evening too — it wouldn’t surprise me one bit.)
The difference, though, is that night Martin hit another car, killing two people and critically injuring a third. Ironically, the people in that car were in long-term recovery and returning from a sober new years eve party. He would spend the next 17 years in prison.
Martin was released over a year ago and he’s committed his life to honoring the lives lost from his mistake by becoming a substance abuse counsellor, as well as speaking at schools, victim impact panels, and in communities about his story and spreading awareness on the dangers of drunk driving.
When I read Martin’s story I felt deeply affected. We are the same age (43 years old). But Martin has spent almost half of his life behind bars for a crime I too have committed, as well as 43% of Americans — driving under the influence.
I wanted to talk to Martin more about his story, because guilt weighs on so many of us in recovery. And Martin spent years learning how to recognize the difference between shame and guilt, how to reflect and pray on the deepest feelings of both, and how to channel his feelings into profound purpose.
Here are some highlights from our Q&A. My paid subscribers will get the full transcript later this week. Subscribe now so you don’t miss it!
Martin: On New Year's Eve 2003, I was working at a warehouse. And I was going to school in the evenings to become a nurse. I had a GED and I was living with my girlfriend and Vancouver, Washington.
I worked in Portland and I’d gotten off work early because of the holiday. I can still hear my boss. He had joked with us right before we left “you guys go out and have a good time tonight but do not let me wake up and see you on the front page, right?”
Of course, we laugh it off. We clock out for the day, and I went straight to the liquor store, about 11:30, I bought a fifth of gin, I then went to my parents’ house to hang out with my twin brother, because that's what he was living at the time. So he and I hang out and make plans for later that night to attend a friend's house party. I drank that entire fifth of gin by myself over the course of 3-4 hours.
I then went back to the store where I bought four 24-ounce cans of Old English beer. It was the worst of the worst, but it was like 8.3%. I drank so that alcohol over the next few hours was now about eight o'clock.
My brother and I decided to go to another friend's house and hang out because we didn't want to get to the party too early. The three of us drank a pint of Hennessy together, and by then it’s about 11 o'clock.
We head out of his apartment to go to the party. And as we're walking out the door, his mother from the kitchen gives me warning number two. She says “You guys, have fun. But please, please be careful tonight.” And we're like “yes, ma'am. We're gonna be careful.”
Obviously, we had no intentions of being careful that night.
We get to the party and see a bunch of old classmates. We have fun, drink some alcohol, and everything is great. We ring in the new year and leave at about 12:15 a.m. We get into my vehicle so I can take my friend home and then take my brother home.
Now most clear-thinking people will say, “Dude, you’ve had way too much to drink; let one of us drive or you know, let's call a taxi.” (Back then they didn't have Uber.) But honestly, this is what all of us did every day, and very sad to say that we didn't think twice about this.
I dropped my friend off at his house, no problem, I get back onto the freeway. On the freeway, all I'm thinking about at this point is how exhausted I am. And I can't wait to get my brother home, because I still had another half hour or so to drive to Vancouver.
We were at the block where I'm gonna drop him off at our parents’ house, and right before I get into the left hand turning lane, he suddenly realizes he's all out of cigarettes. He said, “Hey, man, let's go up the road so I can get some cigarettes, I'm all out.”
I'm thinking in my mind, “great, one more stop that I don't want to make.” I just want to get the stupid cigarettes and go home and go to sleep. We drive for a couple blocks and there’s one more intersection to reach the mini mart. I'm looking up at the light and the mini mart that we need to go to was just beyond the intersection, but the light is yellow.
As intoxicated as I was, I still knew 1,000% there was no way I was gonna make this light. But it didn't matter because in a split second I made up my mind -- I'm not gonna wait, I'm going right through.
I immediately punch the gas and I'm tunnel visioned looking straightforward. I promise you I didn't see anything to the right or left. Within seconds – BOOM -- this earth-shattering crash. I remember the airbags envelop my face and my car comes to a slow halt. And I immediately look to my right to see my brother, and he's moving. I'm somewhat relieved. This is good. I'm alive. He's alive.
A guy comes rushing up to the driver's side door frantically saying “Are you guys okay? Are you guys okay?” I stepped out of the vehicle. “Yeah, we're okay. We're good.”
Then my brother gets my attention by pointing across the street where the other car had eventually landed. He said, “Somebody's lying down on the pavement over there, and it doesn't look like they're moving.”
Oh my God, what have I done. Within seconds, lights and sirens are everywhere and the policemen are on the scene. They started talking to me, and the officer confirmed to me that that person who was lying on the pavement had, in fact, died. He told me that they were driving another person in critical condition by ambulance to the hospital.
I'm placed under arrest and put into the back of the cruiser. I'm listening to the police radio, because there's a lot of talk about the crash, and I hear over the radio that another passenger in the vehicle had been pronounced dead. And I said, “Excuse me, sir, did I just say that correctly? Did they just say that somebody else was in that vehicle and didn't make it?”
Unfortunately, yes. So now there's two people that I responsible for no longer being here, another with life threatening injuries, who may pass away.
That was obviously the worst day of a lot of people's lives.
A few days later, I was in my cell when someone slid the Oregonian newspaper underneath the door. I pick it up and see my picture on the on the front page of one of the sections. For the first time since this crash had happened several days ago, I had come to understand these people's lives – faces and names for the victims. I learned they were active in their recovery, they had been sober for 16 years, and helping others get clean and sober.
The very night that this happened, they were returning home from a clean and sober New Year's Eve party. The columnist talked about the palpable irony that this would happen to these people. He concluded the article with the statement “perhaps the person they would have ended up helping the most is the man who's charged with killing them.”
I'm 24 years old, and I'm going to go to prison for 20 years. I'm also trying to wrap my head around the fact that two people I've never met are no longer here because of me. And I couldn't fully appreciate how those words were supposed to apply to my life. I just couldn't, but I knew it was my responsibility to figure it out.
For the next 6-7 months, I would meditate on that phrase. I would wake up in the morning and I would hear it, I would go to eat breakfast and I would hear it, I would lay down and take a nap and hear it. And I would pray about that right and ask for clarity into how this phrase was supposed to apply in my life.
It finally came to me the only way that this tragedy will not be in vain. I can carry on these people's legacies if I make it my life's sole purpose and mission to carry on what these people were doing in the recovery community. That moment, my future still uncertain and hadn't been sentenced yet. No trial, no sentencing, no nothing. But I knew that I was going to commit to this cause. That's all I had.
Question: One of the things people in recovery struggle with is overcoming shame and guilt. What tips would you give for people trying to get over that hump? How do how do we forgive ourselves for our past shame and mistakes and things that are in the past that we can't change?
Martin: I found it incredibly difficult to forgive myself because it was such a terrible thing that I had done. Especially as we would lead up to the anniversary [of the crash], every year, that was just a killer for me. I was depressed, and I would relive these events in my head over and over. I felt that in some way that was me honoring them -- by not allowing myself to forget.
But after that third or fourth year of that happening, I had a reckoning with the fact that we only get so much energy in a day, and we get to decide how we're going to allocate that energy. When I allocated my energy on this miserable state of depression and self-condemnation, I was not honoring the vows that I made, and I was not fully lending myself to this service I set out to do.
It became clear that my energy would be better spent on something that is productive, something that is going to help other people, something that is going to honor my amends-making process. Recovery is all about making amends. If that is what you what you set out to do, then I promise you by not forgiving yourself and instead being self-loathing and self-condemning, you are robbing yourself of that energy that could be better spent on that amendment and process. You’re holding yourself back from being able to fully actualize what it is you want to do. To recover, to live a fulfilling life, be of service to other people.
What is the difference between shame and guilt?
I know we use them interchangeably, but there's a difference between shame and guilt. Guilt for me is a healthy thing. Because when I do something that has harmed somebody else, or I do something that is a mistake, I should feel guilty in the sense that I don't want to repeat this behavior, right? This is a self-correcting mechanism.
Shame is guilt that has gone awry. Shame is this overarching dark cloud that follows me and says “You are a bad person.” Guilt says you did a bad thing. Shame says you are a bad person. It is this character assassination.
Accept guilt. Learn from what you've done and move on and try not to repeat it. Do not allow that same guilt to transform into shame because there is no good purpose or outcome from shame. It holds you back, it prevents you from being able to fully step into whatever you're calling and your purpose and your potential.
Find a way to channel your feelings into a purpose and a cause that is going to be of service to other people. That is how you pull yourself out of that dark hole of shame. You will start to turn it into something that is meaningful and beautiful. But be patient, because it takes time.
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Paid subscribers will get an email later this week with my whole conversation with Martin, including more about his time in prison and his recovery from alcoholism, and of course… about how he’s doing now.
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