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I do this newsletter because I really like doing it, and it actually does help my sobriety to devote as much time as possible to thinking about recovery topics. And in this newsletter, I mostly talk about myself, but if I do mention other people, I often switch some details and combine characteristics into one person for the story. I did that here.
When I first got sober, I fell in love with 12-step programs right away because my life improved so much, so quickly. It was like magic. So I was head over heels.
That’s not how everybody feels, though, and I respect that. I’m not somebody who shoves my brand of sobriety down your throat. I’ve seen too many people clean up their lives using 100 different strategies. I actually spent some time thinking about that number, and I mean it—I think I’ve met people who took 100 different paths toward a solution to addiction.
Anyway, the main thing I was thinking about was an old friend from my early days of sobriety who used to come to meetings and just s**t all over the meetings. She didn’t like the religious aspect, hated the prayers, wasn’t a big hand-holder or hugger, didn’t like when people shared the same thing at every meeting, rolled her eyes at the slogans, thought business meetings were lame, didn’t have or want a sponsor, didn’t want to work the steps, and on and on.
Every time she shared, she’d dump on the program, and I would get irritated because I obviously felt like it had saved my life.
I’d always say to myself, “Why are you even here? Leave if this sucks so bad!”
And then one day she got a little emotional and she said, “You all know me. I hate everything about 12-step programs… except that when I come to meetings, I don’t drink.” Then she announced that she had one year sober, and I found myself clapping as hard as I’ve ever clapped before. I was so happy for her, and it reiterated a few very important things:
—1. I got sober the way I got sober. Maybe other people can get sober with one meeting per week, or one meeting per month. Or maybe they’ll get sober with three meetings and a day and no step work. I don’t need to form an advisory panel for anybody else’s sobriety because the truth is, I don’t actually know the answer. If I am asked for suggestions, I will provide them, with no strings attached to whether you do them or not.
—2. I used to scoff a little bit when somebody would say to me “Don’t drink, go to meetings” because I thought that was too low a standard for me. And it is—for me. But it’s also terrific guidance for me during rough patches, when I am doing a lot and not seeing big returns. I always need to just not drink and go to meetings, at the very least, and that’s been enough.
—3. I’m okay being me. I was haunted at first by the idea that “The only thing you need to change is everything.” I mostly agree with the idea that recovery requires a total overhaul of thoughts, actions, patterns of behaviors, the way I talk to people and process what they say back, etc. But I also spent some time in a rut because every single little thing that happened, I would find myself asking, “What character defect is firing up for me? Do I need to do a Fourth Step? Do I owe an amends?” It was grueling because I found that there is such a thing for me as over-analysis, where I am dwelling on imperfection so much that it guarantees more imperfection.
So now I try to remember the old phrase “Beat yourself up with a feather, not a baseball bat” and move on. That anecdote about the person who hated everything about meetings except the staying sober part… she liked who she was without the alcohol and with no extra work. I want to do the extra work on myself, but I also experienced a mini breakthrough when I accepted some things about myself that might not be spiritually fit but are a part of me.
Comedy is the best example of that. I enjoy listening to and doing R-rated stuff when I am performing, and I felt a little guilty about that for awhile. But you know what? I live a spiritually fit life most of the time and deep down, I am an R-rated person. So I eventually got to a point where I was comfortable swearing and telling inappropriate jokes that I wouldn’t say at a 12-step meeting.
I guess I will leave you with some very basic words to live by… Don’t drink and go to meetings!!!
ALCOHOLIC/ADDICT JOKE OF THE DAY
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
One night at a bar, two drunks were discussing the perils of drink: hangovers, blackouts, and so forth.
"At least," one drunk said to the other, "I've never had alcoholic hallucinations."
"No, thank heavens, I haven't either," replied the other drunk.
"But I did have the darnedest dream last night," the first drunk said. "I dreamed that hundreds of funny little men were dancing all over me. They had pink caps and green suits and furry little boots that curled up in front."
"Yeah," said the second drunk. "And there was a tinkly bell at the toe of each boot."
"That's right," said the first drunk, "but how did you know?"
"There are a couple of them still sitting on your shoulder."
(Credit: AA Grapevine, October 1996)
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