the inevitable progression

Ring

Ring

Ring

I checked the caller ID as I grabbed the call.  It was them, and I was relieved, as it had been a bit since I'd heard from them.

Me:  Hey, how's it going?

Them:  Not... not so great.

Me:  Uh oh ... I don't like the sound of that.

Them:  Yeah well... the other weekend...

Their story of the other weekend could be likened to a truck with no brakes hurtling down a hill.  A little beer and pot became... which became... which became...

Me:  So... you shot up?

I sounded calm, but in my head it was more like "OH MY GOD YOU SHOT UP?!?"  Not that I'm any stranger to stories which include that act, but no matter how many times I've seen it, the deathward momentum of the inevitable progression of addiction can still startle and frighten me.

Them:  yeah.

Me:  I don't remember well from your story, is that very old behavior for you or very new?

Them:  Kind of both.

I let figuring that answer out go for the moment.

Me:  So... what can we do?

Them:  We?

Me:  You don't have to do any of this alone -- you know that.  There are rooms full of people -- sincere, loving, flawed, messy, often irritating people...

They laughed, which was what I was going for with that.

Me:  ... who will do everything they know how to do to help you get sober.  And I will too.

They were quiet for a couple of minutes.

Them:  Thank you.  I ... I still have some pot at home and ... and beer ... I'm ... I'm going to finish that off and then I'm going to come back.

I took a long, slow breath.

Me:  Do me a favor right now.

Them:  What?  Are you going to tell me to throw it all away?

Me:  No.  Just do me a favor.  Hold the phone far away from your ear for a moment.

Them:  What?

Me:  Just do it.

Them:  Okay.

I waited a moment for them to hold the phone away.

Me (bellowing into the phone):  CAN YOU HEAR HOW FUCKING INSANE THAT IS?

Another moment goes by.

Them:  Yeah.. but ...

Me:  Sorry, sorry I just ... It's just like I feel like I don't know how to help you right now, what to say to...

Them:  Look, talking helps, but I've got to be honest with you.  I'm just going to finish this off and then I'm really... I know how it sounds but I'm not willing to...

Me:  Okay.  Okay... I do understand ... but also... okay.  I am not judging you, but I have to be honest with you too -- that is a terrible plan and that thinking is rife with denial and alcoholism and I wish you would let me come over right now and we can dump it then you can come back with me and crash on my couch till you go to work tomorrow.

Them:  I get it ... I know... thank you ... but ... no.  I just...

I'm not proud of this next part.

Me:  Okay.  Okay.  Then let me just ask you one quick question.

Them:  Okay, shoot.

Me:  At the service, who do you want to give your eulogy?

Them:  Oh fuck you!

They hung up.

Yeah, I snapped.  And I kind of blew it.  I let my frustration with addiction become frustration with the addict.  God works through our character defects as well as our assets, that is, through my frustration as well as my patience, but I don't feel good about how I handled that.  We have enough history that I believe we'll get past that sour moment, but it was not my best, that's for sure.

 I know, I know, I KNOW ... it's not up to me anyway, it's in God's hands.  But please understand it's the frustration talking when I say that some nights it feels like God's not taking those calls -- it's my phone that rings.  And I know there's some ego involved when I think that if only I can come up with the "right" words I might find a way to get through to someone.  It's not all ego, there is a sincere desire to help, but when my frustration gets the better of me I need to look and see what's out of balance at my end.  As it says in the 7th Step in the 12&12, just because we know we can't ever achieve perfection doesn't mean we don't try like hell to move in that direction -- that is, even when I do okay I can look to see how I can do better.  And when I don't do okay, well then, I'd better look even harder.

Detach with love.  Carry the message not the mess.  Love and tolerance is our code.

Some nights I fly.

Some nights I trudge.

Each night, I pray -- and then I try to do better.

Comments

[Jessie R.]

You have a keen sense of visual with the words that paint a larger picture. Thank you because I feel sometimes as if I might be on the wrong track and yet, settled in to the heartfelt knowledge that it's the only track I have, and since I got down on my knee before taking the journey, and the life I have today is a demonstration of God being ALL powerful, well here WE are. Thank you!

[Meribeth]

Ah, frustration. This could have been my post. I am taking a break from sponsoring because it is so hard to "detach with love" when sponsees want to run the program their way. And relapse and misery is right around the corner. It's hard when suggestions are ignored and they look for something/one else to make it go away. A good, functioning detachment is nat part of my inventory, yet. Damn, I hate this disease.

[Syd]

If only they would listen...

[anon e. mouse]

Frankly I don't think you did a single thing you'll need to do a Step Ten over. This is one of the tricky things I'm discovering through stepwork in Al-Anon, anyway—is that times I think "wow I really blew it" are often times when I actually spoke my truth clearly. Manjusri's sword sometimes cuts. That's okay. This person is headed for the edge of a cliff and you can't always be gentle when you're grabbing for an arm or leg to stop them going over. Now if you called them BACK to say a few more pithy things...then you might be in trouble.

And as far as God not taking those phone calls...I like to quote singer-songwriter Ani DiFranco on this one: "God's work isn't done by God / it's done by people."

I love the picture of falling into the blue, someone very close now to hitting bottom. Please God, may it happen in time.

[Virginia]

Well sometimes harsh is best. No way you can win when someone is in the middle of the road. Not wanting to be sober and not wanting to be a mess. God guides us.

[G. RabAnon]

Oh my God THANK YOU SO MUCH for posting this Mr. Sponsorpants. It is so good to read about frustration, and about imagining that there are "magic words" that you have to find that will get it across. It is so hard to let go of that, and not just in a program context. Thank you for talking about a situation in which you see your will walking away with the conversation... it's comforting to know that it still happens, even with someone with as much recovery as you demonstrate in your writing. Sometimes we need to see our heroes trip to be reminded that we don't have to be perfect, and in that sense, your experience has benefitted me greatly.

I learn so much through you. Thank you for carrying the message.

[The Corner Hugger]

"Some nights it feels like God's not taking those calls -- it's my phone that rings."

Oh, that's good...

Mine rang last night. He wanted to argue about (of all things) why God was unfair when He created us flawed. Some drunken mumbo jumbo about Adam, Eve, and the apple-- "why did He do that? He KNEW Eve would mess the whole thing up."

I wasn't even remotely tempted to argue (thank you, God).

I was calm (for once), and in the end, he thanked me by saying I was the first person that day that hadn't hung up on him in the first 60 seconds.

I was telling him that I was glad he called when I heard him hang up.

Guess he was too mad at God to call Him. He called me instead. That's cool. I can take a message.

I let God know about it, but, He already knew.

Grin.