One of my good friends in AA likes to call AA "Opinions Anonymous". After attending meetings on a daily basis for over a year, I can certainly see why he says that. Nearly everyone in the rooms has an opinion on how exactly to work the program, and it's generally based on their own experience, or lack thereof.
For instance, today, a man who is not self-identified as an alcoholic spoke up to ask a question in meeting. This man has been attending AA meetings on what my sponsor calls "the scholarship program". In other words, he's been nudged by the judge. He had, through observation in his alcohol education classes, formed the opinion that alcoholics drink because they are bored and if they'd just all get hobbies, everything would be lollipops and puppy dogs. He then went on to describe his hobbies. I will take a moment to note that, in spite of this man's hobbies, he still managed to get a DUI and a jail sentence for drinking and driving.
Now, because I'm all enlightened and shit, I do understand that it's very likely that this man is in denial about his own alcoholism. Very few people cross the threshold of an AA room by accident, even the ones sent there by the court. But it does highlight for me the very real fact that alcoholism is a disease which is very poorly understood by the general public, alcoholic or not.
As anyone who has been to an AA meeting can imagine, this man was quickly disabused of the laughable notion that alcoholics drink out of boredom and lack of hobbies. Fortunately, this meeting has a large contingent of people with good sobriety in it, so they were kind and informative, but it could have gotten ugly and cruel. It is not, after all, Well Peoples Anonymous.
I did not drink out of boredom. I have more hobbies than a toad has warts. I sewed, crocheting and needle-pointed while shit-faced. I read and wrote while hammered. Hell, I hammered and operated power tools when I shouldn't have been trusted with anything more dangerous than a pillow. I drove, climbed ladders, parented, bailed people out of jail, talked to cops, danced, streaked, screamed, cried, laughed, went to the DMV, went to work, church, weddings and funerals, you name it, all while intoxicated. In short, if it could be done while awake, I did it drunk.
A true alcoholic does not need an excuse to get drunk. I got drunk even when I didn't want to get drunk. I couldn't help myself.
This isn't the first time this man has proffered an uninformed opinion at a meeting I've attended. It's my opinion that he's looking for explanations for his own behavior which don't include the idea that he's an alcoholic. It's my hope that he'll keep coming back until he gets the answer that he needs, whatever that may be.
But for those of us who already know we're alcoholics, there's only one place to go to get answers, and that's the Big Book. The 12 Steps are the answer to all our dilemmas and questions about our disease, no matter what our experiences. It's also the place to go to resolve our opinions. It doesn't always give us the answer we want, but it does give us the answer we need.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Hocus-Pocus Step
There's nothing quite like working with others to clarify and reinforce the 12 Steps. I've been working with my new sponsee, and we've just started the third step. It reads as follows: "We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God, as we understood him."
For those who know me, I'm sure it is at least mildly shocking to learn that I have taken this step. My dear husband asked, "You're not going all religious on me, are you?" I answered, "Not likely." And it's not. There's not one whit of religion in this step. There is only faith that the universe will provide me with exactly what I need, even (or especially) if I don't know what that is.
When I first encountered this step, all my attention was focused on the "turn our will and our lives over to the care of God". I had over fifty years of self-will behind me and the idea of giving away my will, especially to some nebulous god-creature, was impossible. Sure, I'd made some bad decisions and some of my thinking was messed up, but hadn't I made some very good decisions? Hadn't I had some very good thinking, too? What about all that?
I struggled with this mightily, but the context of this struggle was telling. You see, I was working my third step in jail. My self-will run riot had landed me there and my life was a mess. So, no matter how much I liked to think I was doing a good job running my life, there was strong evidence to the contrary.
Still, as a thinking being, I am all about the proof. If this step was going to do something for me, I would have to try it on for size. I could always take my will and my life back later if it didn't work out. I began saying the Third Step Prayer* over and over again. Sometimes I shortened it to, "Please help me get out of my own way."
I call this step the Hocus-Pocus Step, because when I was starting to work it, that's exactly what it seemed like, hocus-pocus. I'd just turn all this stuff over, and *poof*, like magic, life would take care of itself without me. No more projecting, expecting, scheming and manipulating to make life turn out the way I thought it best would. Hrumph. Unlikely, right? Nevertheless, I "made a decision" and stepped back to see what would happen.
What happened was nothing short of miraculous. As soon as I got out of the way and took the role of observer, I started seeing all the crap that I'd been carrying around, all the responsibility I shouldered for things outside of my control, all the guilt I'd manufactured over my transgressions, real and imagined, all the shame over behavior that was the unavoidable symptomology of my disease, and all the crap that wasn't even mine that I'd been lugging around. The sheer magnitude of it all was staggering. Who knew?
And that's when the real magic happened. As the observer, I could see how completely unnecessary all this pain I was causing myself was. I could see how mercilessly I'd battered myself over even the smallest imagined slight or disappointment. But, because I was now the actor, and not the director, I could also see that I didn't need this burden anymore, and I began to let go of it. I literally felt the weight of the world slip away from me. Before, I'd tried to drink it away, and only succeeded in covering it up for as long as I could remain hammered. Now I was truly free of it. I'd made the decision and gotten immediate results. What more could a self-involved, instant gratification junkie, egotistical narcissist with delusions of grandeur ask for?
One of the most important payoffs of this change was the promise in the Big Book that the desire for alcohol would lift. It did. Bear in mind, the drinking thoughts still come now and then. That's just my disease knocking, hoping I won't see it for what it is and let it in. But the desire is gone. Just like they promised, when I think about drinking now, I cringe and shudder. I "recoil as if from a hot flame". It's great. I don't have to fight anymore.
No, I don't have any statistical, scientific proof that will satisfy peer review. Except for me, and millions and millions of other recovered alcoholics who did just what I did and got just what I got. And that's enough.
*God, I offer myself to thee--to build with me and do with me as thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of thy power, thy love, and thy way of life. May I do thy will always!
For those who know me, I'm sure it is at least mildly shocking to learn that I have taken this step. My dear husband asked, "You're not going all religious on me, are you?" I answered, "Not likely." And it's not. There's not one whit of religion in this step. There is only faith that the universe will provide me with exactly what I need, even (or especially) if I don't know what that is.
When I first encountered this step, all my attention was focused on the "turn our will and our lives over to the care of God". I had over fifty years of self-will behind me and the idea of giving away my will, especially to some nebulous god-creature, was impossible. Sure, I'd made some bad decisions and some of my thinking was messed up, but hadn't I made some very good decisions? Hadn't I had some very good thinking, too? What about all that?
I struggled with this mightily, but the context of this struggle was telling. You see, I was working my third step in jail. My self-will run riot had landed me there and my life was a mess. So, no matter how much I liked to think I was doing a good job running my life, there was strong evidence to the contrary.
Still, as a thinking being, I am all about the proof. If this step was going to do something for me, I would have to try it on for size. I could always take my will and my life back later if it didn't work out. I began saying the Third Step Prayer* over and over again. Sometimes I shortened it to, "Please help me get out of my own way."
I call this step the Hocus-Pocus Step, because when I was starting to work it, that's exactly what it seemed like, hocus-pocus. I'd just turn all this stuff over, and *poof*, like magic, life would take care of itself without me. No more projecting, expecting, scheming and manipulating to make life turn out the way I thought it best would. Hrumph. Unlikely, right? Nevertheless, I "made a decision" and stepped back to see what would happen.
What happened was nothing short of miraculous. As soon as I got out of the way and took the role of observer, I started seeing all the crap that I'd been carrying around, all the responsibility I shouldered for things outside of my control, all the guilt I'd manufactured over my transgressions, real and imagined, all the shame over behavior that was the unavoidable symptomology of my disease, and all the crap that wasn't even mine that I'd been lugging around. The sheer magnitude of it all was staggering. Who knew?
And that's when the real magic happened. As the observer, I could see how completely unnecessary all this pain I was causing myself was. I could see how mercilessly I'd battered myself over even the smallest imagined slight or disappointment. But, because I was now the actor, and not the director, I could also see that I didn't need this burden anymore, and I began to let go of it. I literally felt the weight of the world slip away from me. Before, I'd tried to drink it away, and only succeeded in covering it up for as long as I could remain hammered. Now I was truly free of it. I'd made the decision and gotten immediate results. What more could a self-involved, instant gratification junkie, egotistical narcissist with delusions of grandeur ask for?
One of the most important payoffs of this change was the promise in the Big Book that the desire for alcohol would lift. It did. Bear in mind, the drinking thoughts still come now and then. That's just my disease knocking, hoping I won't see it for what it is and let it in. But the desire is gone. Just like they promised, when I think about drinking now, I cringe and shudder. I "recoil as if from a hot flame". It's great. I don't have to fight anymore.
No, I don't have any statistical, scientific proof that will satisfy peer review. Except for me, and millions and millions of other recovered alcoholics who did just what I did and got just what I got. And that's enough.
*God, I offer myself to thee--to build with me and do with me as thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of thy power, thy love, and thy way of life. May I do thy will always!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)