Mr. SponsorPants

"I won't quit, they have to fire me. I won't quit, they have to fire me."

It was one of my first jobs in sobriety, and I felt it was far beneath me.

I had no real skills at the time, and, prior to that, had been too drunk to show up to class, thereby throwing away my opportunity to finish college -- so I had no degree (two spotty years and then a series of lies to my parents about deferred classes and summer sessions and sick time etc., etc.) -- but still, the job was beneath me.

The job was waiting tables at a '40's style diner.

Oh, it gets better.

There was a uniform:

Paper soda jerk hat.  Short sleeved white button down shirt.  Little black bow tie.  Those weird industrial material Dickies brand pants, in beige.  (They sat across my waist like an abortive attempt at male maternity wear.)  It was a '40's diner themed restaurant, so we were supposed to look like the guys (and gals) who worked the ice cream counter in those days (never mind I think the look was a bit more 1950's -- they weren't asking my opinion).

I looked like the illegitimate offspring of a drunken coupling between Pee Wee Herman and Flo, the officially "sassy" waitress on the 1970's sitcom, "Alice."

      

"I can't do it!" I wailed to my sponsor.

"Yes, you can."  he said.

"My friends will see me."  I whined.

"Yes, they will."  he said.

"I look fat and foolish and everyone will laugh."  I cried.

"You need a job."  he said, doing nothing to assuage my fears, as he had said nothing to address my wounded vanity.

While I didn't believe the world owed me a living, I did believe that (just like in the movies) I would sort of fall into some glamorous and highly paid career -- kind of like being discovered, but by God, more than Hollywood.  (And in the very, very back of my mind, I suspect I equated my newfound sobriety with being "good" and thus the universe was bound to reward me. Which, as I have pointed out here before, is not spirituality so much as superstition.)

I explained this idea to my sponsor, though I was too smart to put it quite so baldly, and sited examples of numerous famous people who had that very thing happen to them.

"That may be, but you're not them, and you need a job.  And you're not going to be discovered sitting in your living room or sitting in a meeting, anyway."  he responded.

So there I was, in between AA meetings, slinging cheeseburgers and mixing malts.

Let me just say, in case the picture I've painted thus far has not made it clear, the uniform did not flatter the figure.  If you were a 16 year old kid, trim and suffused with the blush of youth, then in that outfit you looked like an extra from a Disney musical.  ("Newsies 2!  Sophomore Year!  Back to the Burger Joint!"  The Happy Meal tie-in alone would have been a marketing executives ... er ... dream) but sober a year or so I was only slowly coming back to life -- my previous almost ten year diet of vodka and ... well, more vodka ... had not exactly put the glow of health in my cheeks or muscle on my frame.  I had all the right numbers, but I had them in all the wrong places.  And it hadn't helped that in getting sober I had severe physical cravings for many months, and had taken the "eat something sweet to address the craving for liquor" advice to heart.  And stomach and butt.  (And given the kind of drunk I was -- at that time that was the right thing for me to do).  The restaurant was near the beach, so families would roll in to feed the kids, the lot of them fresh and glowing from sand and surf and clean living and good health.  I would approach the table looking, in comparison to them, like Uncle Fester on a work release program -- so I thought.  It didn't help.

I was scared and overwhelmed and miserable.

I faked being happy and comfortable and confident.  I am a great faker.

I think in survival situations alcoholics in general are marvelous frauds -- this is why "fake it till you make it" is such great advice for us.  "Act as if" -- act as if you're a person who is not afraid to go through the door, and you find a way to walk through the door.  "Act as if" you're the kind of person who is able to walk up to strangers and do your job, and you find a way to walk up to strangers and do your job.

To look at me on the floor of that restaurant you'd have though I was fine.

But every fifteen minute break I had, I would stand behind the restaurant, literally shaking, and chant to myself "I won't quit they have to fire me.  I won't quit they have to fire me..." over and over again.  Every moment I was there every circuit of my brain was on overload.  Before going to work sometimes I threw up from fear.  It was waiting tables in a nice-but-not-fine-dining-restaurant and at the time it was almost more than I could handle.

I had put a brave face on it to my sponsor at first, but finally broke down and told him how I felt and all my fears every time I went to work.  (Why I felt I needed to put a brave face on it for my sponsor is complicated, but has to do in part with people pleasing and confusion about what a sponsor is and a lifetime habit of covering things up by reflex -- and worth a whole other post some day, I'm sure.)

He told me something that changed my work life, and not only transformed that job, but every single work experience I've had since (and they have been many and varied, my path has never been what one would call "traditional.")

My sponsor explained to me that one facet of the 12th Step's suggestion to "... practice these principles in all our affairs" was to approach every situation as an opportunity to be of service.  So when I was at the restaurant, rather than be afraid of how I looked or what people thought of me, I should try to view every element of the job, every exchange with customers and co-workers, as a chance to be of service.  Look at the food as nourishment I was bringing to hungry people.  Look at the families, some of them stressed or grouchy, and see if I could make their time with me relaxing or even enjoyable.  See how I could make my co-workers jobs easier, grab trays, bus tables, offer to assist ... just in general take the focus off of myself and my paycheck and my tips and put it onto being of service.

I tried it, and the change in how I felt and how my day went was nothing short of amazing.  Approaching the job like that absolutely transformed the entire experience for me. 

Now, to the cynical among you, I'm not saying this meant that little animated birds flew in the window and helped me put on my soda jerk outfit every day.  I still had difficult customers and some days my feet were tired and other days the physical labor was hard indeed.  But by looking at the job as a chance to be of service, my fear fell away, my obsessive self-loathing about how I looked was muted to almost nothing, and this in turn changed my interactions, which improved the job, which made it easier to view as a way to be of service, which changed my interactions ... in a healthy ongoing cycle of positive reinforcement. 

It got to the point that on my fifteen minute breaks I would stand behind the restaurant and say the 3rd Step prayer and the Serenity Prayer and feel a real sense of purpose and usefulness when I went back to my station.

I grew to love that job, and when I left, I was sorry to go.

They didn't fire me -- and I didn't quit.  I left that job as a sober man leaves a job, not a frightened or petulant drunk.  I resigned with two weeks notice, moving on to another job that suited me better -- and challenged me in new ways.

I left the job better for having had it -- and when I started there I would never have imagined all I got from that place and those people -- and yes, even from the humility of wearing that damned outfit.  (What a gift, to move through the world and see the person, not the uniform, every time I'm the customer.)

Over and over that's been my experience from working AA's principles in every area of my life -- things that scared and overwhelmed me are transformed into wonderful opportunities I've been grateful to have and was sad to leave.

And in a box somewhere, as a bit of a reminder of both that lesson and that sponsor, I still have that stupid hat.

.

Questions via Email: Trust

Good morning Mr. SponsorPants,

I hope you can help me with a little dilemma I have.  I recently came back after a run of several years.  Before that I had several years in the rooms before I went out.  Now that I am back in the rooms I am actually in a different state than I lived in when I got sober.  My issue now is trusting people in the rooms.  The first time I was in the rooms I trusted everyone because I didn't realize that some are sicker than others.  Now I find myself on the other extreme.  I don't share at all in meetings because I don't know who is safe.  I call my sponsor but I find myself holding back.  I haven't outright lied yet but I just leave things out... and yes, I know, omission is a form of deception.

I know it takes time to open up and trust people, but I am afraid that my lack of trust will take me back out.  Right now my sponsor gave me some step work to do and I have no issue writing it all out.  I think knowing these things and having them in black and white in front of me will get me to learn a lot about myself and the patterns that lead me to drink.  However, if I am to do this properly, a lot will be revealed and I am afraid to tell it to my sponsor, or anyone for that matter.  I know I need to do this, but I don't know how willing I am to share it.  I'm stuck right now.

Any insight would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you.

Stuck Untrusting and Nervous I'll Relapse

Dear SUNIR,

The first thing I want to say to you is welcome back!

A relapse of several years has to include some real darkness, and many people seem to find coming back to Alcoholics Anonymous strangely harder than the first time they came into the rooms.  Please, please, be gentle with yourself, and rely on the fact that nothing in Alcoholics Anonymous is theory based -- it has evolved through the practical experience of many thousands of clean and sober alcoholics, and if it worked for them it WILL work for you.

Willing but unsure of those around you, afraid of relapse, wanting to trust but unable to do so ... oh, SUNIR, I am sorry, that is a dreadful place to be.  It's a terrible tangle of emotions -- let's try and sort some of this out and break it down into some actions you can try, okay?

You are right -- it takes time to open up and trust people.  To reflect back to you what you're describing, it is like some nightmarish race you find yourself in: Will you be able to develop the ability to open yourself to people in AA before your alcoholism sneaks up behind you and grabs you by the throat and drags you back down to hell?

Here's what I think:  Yes, you will be able to.

And here's how:

Start talking about this fear and trust challenge with just a few people in AA.  Yes, some are sicker than others -- so find a few of the others, and skip the some.  That may be easier than initially broaching the trust issue with your sponsor.  Sometimes we unconsciously bring a lot of baggage to the sponsor relationship (I'm not saying you have, I'm just saying it is not uncommon) and that can make it difficult to open up in that relationship at first.  So find a few people in the rooms -- maybe someone who has experience with relapse -- and just say this to them:  "Since I came back to AA I am having trouble with trust."  That's all.  You don't have to elaborate, or give any specifics, and if pressed for more information you can just say "That's all I'm comfortable saying for now, but I'm trying to reach out."  Or something like that.  You can play 'broken record' if people -- often with good intention -- encourage you to share more before you're ready. 

The point is to start to open up.  And you don't have to -- ever, if you don't want to -- share anything that makes you feel too vulnerable or unsafe -- but you can start to talk about the problem you're having opening up (and it will not only be helpful to you, but to others as well).  Part of what's keeping you silent is this perhaps unconscious assumption you're making that to open up equals getting immediately into the toughest stuff you're afraid to share -- but you don't have to start there -- and you never have to go there till you're ready -- all you have to do is start talking about the problem of talking.

My experience with my own fears -- when alcoholism has my perceptions warped and my vision twisted -- is that all my fears feel huge, and they spill over onto each other and feed each other and my alcoholism, which then feeds them -- no wonder we can't do this alone! 

When trying to untangle my fears it helps me to sort them this way:  Ego fears and Survival fears. 

Ego fears I must (eventually) smash, Survival fears I must pay attention to, but modulate.  (To illustrate the difference somewhat, it is Ego fear if I am afraid that taping money to my face and walking naked through Central Park at 3am will make me look foolish.  It is Survival fear if I am afraid doing that will get me killed.  Sometimes they overlap, which can make things even more confusing.)

This all may sound obvious, but what I've found is that when alcoholism has my head spinning my Ego fears feel like Survival fears -- thus it can seem like if I raise my hand in a group to share then I will be destroyed. 

Of course, that's not a thought I literally have -- "If I share I will be destroyed!" -- it's an intensity of feeling -- my level of anxiety over what people think of me -- or what will happen if I tell my secrets -- is like my life was at stake

So don't try to tackle that all at once.  Start with the manageable, and begin to say to some few individuals that you are having a problem with trust and with sharing.   Work up to saying to your sponsor that you are struggling with trusting everyone -- including your sponsor.

And here's another thought:  How about breaking the action of your suggested First Step writing in half, like it's the Eighth Step ("... made a list ... and became willing ...").  In other words, first do the writing and then work on becoming willing to share it.  Even though you have "no issue writing it all out" right now you're scaring yourself with the sharing part.  You frame writing as something you're "going to do" -- but haven't done yet.  You can get into some immediate action without being fully willing to take on the second part -- the reading it to your sponsor.  In fact, I might suggest that you share that with your sponsor -- "I'm writing, but I'm not ready to read it yet."  One way or another, I cannot think or feel my way into different thinking and feelings -- it is through action that I change those.  So if the problem is the feeling of fear -- a lack of trust -- the first action you can take is the writing.  Get busy and see what happens, feeling-wise.

You are very wise to extrapolate out that eventually this paralysis puts you at some risk for relapse.  So again (because I think it is very important, and also because in my experience alcoholics are great ones for saying we have no problem doing something -- but still not doing it):  Getting into action will shore up your sobriety -- a lot, I wager -- and you can do that without immediately tackling the larger fears about trust.

Finally, I suggest you bring a Higher Power -- as you understand a Higher Power -- into this equation.  You don't even have to understand your Higher Power to ask for help.  You can even believe that asking an HP for help is stupid or weak or foolish or insane or lame or it didn't work before or it won't work this time or ... or ... or... .  Just get quiet for a few minutes regularly (morning and night?  Shower and sitting in the car at lunch?) and ask for Divine Guidance, and for help in setting aside fear and mistrust.

If you get to have an HP as you understand them, then you can have one that is so delighted to hear from you that it doesn't matter if you're kneeling at the foot of your bed or jumping around in the back row of an aerobics class wearing your old leg warmers and going "Woo!" when your favorite song comes on.  That is a completely hypothetical example, of course.  (What -- why are you all looking at me like that?)  My experience has been that if I regularly ask HP to help me become willing the door starts to open a little bit.  And that's all it takes.  You don't have to become 100% willing.  You just have to get to 51%.  That's always enough to get me started.

Listen to the part of you that wants to live, SUNIR.  And remember, you've already done the hard part -- you came back from a real and tough relapse.  Keep that in perspective -- the toughest part is behind you, so the level of fear you have now (i.e. lack of trust) is your alcoholism working on you.

Fear is a part of the human experience -- it's the amount of it and where it comes from and whether or not I let it drive me or paralyze me that I think marks me as an alcoholic. 

The good news is that you and I have spiritual tools to use to deal with that fear and keep our alcoholism from using it against us.

To quote the Big Book, "It works -- it really does."

Welcome back, keep coming back, and know that everyone who read this today is rooting for you to make it -- especially me.  With all that in your corner your alcoholism doesn't stand a chance.

Love,

Mr. SP

My anger tells me something.

My anger is useful, in that it tells me something:

It tells me that I have a problem on the inside -- I had to learn that in AA though, because what the anger itself tries to tell me is that there is a problem on the outside. 

The problem is never actually whatever it is I think I'm angry about.  Thus, any solution I come up with from my anger is a false solution, since it's not addressing the real problem.

The problem is my fear, which is always (always) underneath the anger -- the fear which bonds so instantly with my alcoholism, feeding each other like malevolent co-joined twins.

But my anger is useful in that, like smoke from a wildfire, it serves to signal a dangerous condition.

Alcoholics Anonymous suggests, to summarize broadly, that I stay out of resentment (anger).  That I leave it to those better qualified to handle it.  (most of this idea is outlined on pg. 66 in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous", AA's Big Book, where the 4th Step is explained.)

But I believe that staying out of anger is not the same thing as trying not to feel it -- an understandable leap I made when I was new; that I wasn't "supposed to" have anger.  That's a bad way to look inside, that lens of "supposed to" and "not supposed to" when it comes to how I feel.

I believe staying out of anger means I work hard to let it pass through me as quickly as possible.  That I do not dwell in it.

This all reminds me of a great phrase from Narcotics Anonymous:  "What you resist persists."  For me, a foundation piece in the solution to dealing with my anger is not to try not to feel it --  it is to try not to keep it.

The way I let the anger pass through me as quickly as possible is to find the fear underneath whatever it is I'm angry about -- and when I find the fear, the solution becomes elegantly simple, because the solution to fear is Faith -- be it faith in a Higher Power (as you understand a Higher Power) or the more prosaic faith that AA's suggestions come from a wellspring of experience which has worked for hundreds of thousands of people, and will work for you, too.

Ultimately, recovery is never about trying not to feel --  that's what drinking and using is about.

Questions! Via Electronic Mail! Over the Internetwork of Computers! Writing the Fear Inventory

Hi Mr. Sponsorpants! Long time listener, first time caller. :)

I've actually been wanting a reason to email you and The Universe being as wonderful and yielding as it is at times, has provided me with an opportunity to ask for your experience on a 12 step matter.

I am currently doing a very specific inventory. I have had experience working the fourth step since 1994, so I've been around this block a few times. However, this is a very different inventory for me and I guess because I am in a very different place this year I was thinking about a different approach. Not that I would ever mess w/ or seek to improve our Big Book, I find the 4 column resentment inventory a perfect tool for self awareness, ego deflation and introspection.  I am curious however, how you do your Fear Inventory. I have never gone beyond getting them down on paper, asking myself why I had them (cause),  examining my fears (Fear of losing something I have, not gaining something I want, and/or being found out) and then looking at the exact nature of my wrongs (Where was I selfish, dishonest, self seeking and frightened) concerning each  fear.

I have done some research out there in the Googleverse and seen 4 and 5 column Fear Inventories (Joe and Charlie, Mark H and Joe H., etc.),  and I have never been instructed to do such by any sponsor I've had. Also, the headings of such columns seem to vary w/ interpretation (I suppose)  so I am a little confused. Actually, I'm not as confused as I am curious.

Would you care to share how you do your Fear Inventory?

Thanks,
SV  

SV, thank you for that excellent question!  I too have seen lots of different Guides for writing a Fear Inventory, most from sober and reliable sources.  My opinion (shaped strongly by my dead sponsor, John S., who's wise counsel I miss every single day of my life) is that if they help someone sort out what drives some of their fears, then that's great, but making many columns for the Fear Inventory is a little bit like gilding the lily.

First, a quick recap for the new kids:  Alcoholics Anonymous suggests, via Step 4, a "searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves."  I think it's worth noting that the word "moral" perhaps wasn't quite as loaded or politically charged  a term when the Steps were written -- but that's my opinion, not a quote from any historical resource.  When I first encountered the 4th Step I made a religious association with the word "moral," but today I believe that the connotation is less about some kind of Old Testament value system (which is certainly a fine one if that's your preference) but refers more broadly to the sick behavior patterns and attitudes we developed under the influence of alcohol/ism.  Yes, those things are bad, as in "it's bad to hit yourself in the head with a hammer", not bad as in "you are Bad and God is keeping score and you've got yet another black mark next to your name!"

As you know, SV, but to be clear for the new kids, the 4th Step inventory is broken up into 3 parts:  Resentments, Fear and Sex.

The resentment part of the inventory is the most structured -- the infamous "four column" inventory, discussed in great detail here and many other places, and spelled out in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book) on pages 64 thru 67.  Thus, organizing the other parts of the inventory (Fear and Sex) into columns is a somewhat natural progression from that example.  It's not exactly how I read what the Big Book says about the Fear Inventory, though. 

Here is what the Big Book says about the Fear Inventory, on pg. 68 (I'm pulling out what are, to me, the specific instructions from the text and summarizing the couple paragraphs between):

"We reviewed our fears thoroughly.  We put them on paper, even though we had no resentment in connection with them." 

And then it goes on to say:  "We asked ourselves why we had them.  Wasn't it because self-reliance failed us?  Self-reliance was good as far as it went, but it didn't go far enough.  Some of us once had great self-confidence, but it didn't fully solve the fear problem -- or any other. When it made us cocky, it was worse."  In my humble opinion (and it is not my intent in this to criticize those learned sober scholars who have parsed the Big Book down to such a fine degree that I stand in awe -- and puzzlement, sometimes -- of their process) the beginning of that, "We asked ourselves why we had them" is more a rhetorical question than an instruction, since it goes right on to answer itself with the point about self-reliance, making a logical bridge to the subsequent ideas about faith in the next paragraph.

The paragraph after the (to me) rhetorical question goes on to elaborate, as the book does in its discussion of the 3rd Step (in which, for the new kids, to paraphrase slightly, we decide to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as each of us understand God) that the best way to deal with fear is through faith.  Reliance on a Higher Power will allow us to "match calamity with serenity."  (As opposed to a reliance on God allowing me to avoid calamity altogether, a mistaken assumption that can sneak in around the corners sometimes.)

Following that is a paragraph which talks about how we don't need to apologize for having faith, and suggests that over the course of human history people of faith have been able to find courage and make powerful demonstrations of how reliance upon God can dispel fear.  At the end of this is (to me) the final instruction specific to the Fear Inventory.  It says:  "We ask Him to remove our fear and direct our attention to what he would have us be.  At once, we commence to outgrow fear."

I love that line, since I am a big fan of immediate gratification.  "At once, we commence to outgrow fear."  Outgrow is not the same as being totally, instantly free from, but it sure as hell is moving in the right direction. 

So how I do the Fear inventory today is pretty simple, since I don't view the business about asking why we have our fears as an instruction to sort things into subsequent columns -- though I've done that over the years, and it can be quite illuminating.  As you point out in your email, SV, much of the different 4th Step guides seem to vary in interpretation more than anything else.

I take what the Big Book says at face value, and just write, "Fear Inventory" across the top of the page, and then I literally list my fears down the page.  I give myself free reign to be repetitive, or very specific, or very general.  Once I get going I enjoy it, actually.  In the past it has looked something like this:

Fear Inventory

I'm afraid I sound stupid.
I'm afraid I'll be alone forever.
I'm afraid of dying so horribly that they will need to use my dental records to identify me.
I'm afraid I say the wrong thing a lot.
I'm afraid I'll never make anything of myself.
I'm afraid a parasite will eat my brain.
I'm afraid ...

You get the idea.  Then at the bottom of the page, when I get there, I write, "God, please remove my fear and turn my attention to what you would have me be."  And every time I do that, I actually do commence to outgrow my fear -- which is to say that practically, literally speaking, I begin to feel better about what I've written.

Every time I fill a page I write the request to God to remove the fears.

My dead sponsor used to suggest to me it might be helpful, once I've written however many pages come pouring out of me on this, to go back and sort my fears into survival fears and ego fears.  That's not from the Big Book, that was just his clever way of pointing out to me (again and again) how the overwhelming majority of my fears are rooted in ego.  Doing that is now my habit, and I find it very helpful. 

Breaking my fears down into specific needs and motivations (fear of not getting what I want, or losing what I've got, etc.) can really illuminate patterns I didn't know I had, and greater self examination will always bring powerful results.  But for me, though, they're all different branches on the same tree of self-reliance, and I can just chalk the "why I have them" up to a lack of trust in God, the Universe and The Great Whatever (as the Big Book explains).

I find the simplicity of making the list and asking for God's help at the bottom of each page -- or just the one page, if that's all I write -- a powerful way to do it, rather than be too cerebral in the examination of this core, corrosive, inevitable human emotion.

But I cannot stress strongly enough that any and all of those Inventory guides out there in the world are useful, as anything that assists in the process of being "searching and throrough" when writing an inventory has got to be a good thing, right?

Whew! I felt I had to include the context in my answer or I wouldn't have been clear, so while that might have been some information you already know, and is no doubt a lot more than you were looking for, that's "how I do my Fear Inventory." I thank you for writing, and I hope to hear from you again!

And good luck (good luck? sure, why not) on your Inventory-ing!

Cheers!

The calls are coming from inside the house!

I confess, in horror movies I'm an easy scare.

All you need is a low tracking shot and some creepy music and I start to get nervous.  I have no fourth wall -- I just fall right into the story.  In real life I've acquitted myself pretty well in some tough spots -- but in movies, I'm a total wuss.

"When A Stranger Calls" -- 1979.  The film is based on an urban legend in which a killer calls his intended victim(s) from inside their own house.  In this version, actress Carol Kane, who's eyes are so big that she probably looks frightened in the produce aisle of the supermarket, plays a babysitter (naturally) who's two young charges are upstairs asleep when she starts getting harassing phone calls from a strange man.  "Have you checked the children?" he keeps asking her.  She phones the police, they trace the calls, and at 22 minutes into the film the phone rings yet another torturous time and Carol, answering in near hysterics, hears the voice of the police telling her, "Jill! We've traced the calls! They're coming from inside the house!  The calls are coming from inside the house!"

Cut to: Extreme close up on Carol's gigantic eyes.  Cut to: Shadow of a man looming at the top of the stairs.  Cut to: Carol fumbling with the locks on the front door.  Cut to:  The shadow looms closer! The man is coming down the stairs!

The audience screams.  Mr.SponsorPants tries to keep his scream in a somewhat manly range (and fails miserably).

If you rent the film you can turn it off after the first 25 minutes -- the rest of the movie doesn't even come close to living up to its amazing First Act.

"The calls are coming from inside the house!"

Genius.

My favorite place to sit in any given AA meeting is usually to the side , so I can not only see the speaker, I can watch the rest of the people in the meeting listening to the speaker.  The people listening are sometimes as moving -- if not more so -- than the speaker themselves, for me.  It is a source of real joy to watch people in AA drink in (you should forgive the expression) the message of recovery as they listen.  It inspires me still.

And I confess it's my habit to keep an eye on a few people.  When I know someone is having a particularly rough patch, or are very new and not yet graceful at the stick-out-your-hand-and-say-hello part of things, I like to sort of pay attention in case I notice something going on and can maybe help -- even if it's just a few words to break the illusion that no one notices, no one cares.  I know from personal experience how powerful it can be to say "Hello, so-and-so" or "See you next week, so-and-so."  That simple act can be the difference between someone feeling welcomed or someone feeling all alone in a room full of people -- keeping track of people helps me give a little special attention when needed.  The slightest contact can save a life -- I know how dramatic that sounds, but I also know it to be absolutely true.

This habit has given me a bit of an eye for when people get lost in their own heads during the meeting.  You can see it happen if you're looking for it.  They may be facing the speaker, but they're no longer able to focus on anything in front of them -- they're focused on their own internal vision.  This is not unique to AA'ers of course -- all people can get lost in thought.  But when an alcoholic does, it's almost always as if they're watching their own personal horror movie playing on the inside of their retinas.  The longer this goes on you can practically begin to smell the burning synapses, as their thoughts race faster and faster, worry and ego and fear shouting down the message of recovery playing out right in front of them.

I always flash on "When A Stranger Calls" whenever I see this.

I want to rush up to them and grab them by the shoulders and shake them and say, "We've traced your fears!  They're coming from inside your head!  The fears are coming from inside your head!"

 

The Frightened Puppy

No, this story is not just an excuse to post this picture. (But come on -- that is pretty damn cute.  Well, if those aren't your pillows, that is.)

My neighbor was puppy sitting for a friend -- that is to say, my neighbor had a puppy staying over at his house for the afternoon, not that he was going over to the friend's house to stay with the puppy.

Before I get into the puppy part, let me rush to assure you that my neighbor is a sterling fellow, a much better person than I am, I'm sure -- seems unfailingly kind, always a cheery hello, does some sort of volunteer work -- in other words, much like an AA person except he does those things because he's wired that way, not as part of a larger spiritual program designed to save his own life -- such is the way God tweaks my nose and keeps me humble -- by having Will Rogers move in next door.

Anyway, the point is that this guy is nice, good hearted and responsible -- you could trust him to transport donor organs, let alone keep a puppy safe in his house for several hours one afternoon while he was at work.  (The friend's place was getting bug sprayed or painted or exorcised or something.)

My desk sits by an open window (the better to look out of and procrastinate with) and thus I can see the back of my neighbor's house and, if his windows are open and the neighborhood is quiet, I can sometimes hear what music he's listening to, or even snatches of conversation (Not that I would ever, ever eavesdrop.  That would be wrong.  Plus the window screen makes my ear itch when I press up against it.)  So I saw the puppy carried from car to house (cute to the tenth power, naturally -- that's it's job, after all) and saw my neighbor toodle off to whatever appointment he had in the afternoon.

And then, about half an hour after he left, it began.

I could hear the puppy start to cry.

Now, I want to be clear here, the puppy was not yelping in pain.  It was simply making that plaintive puppy-alone-and-frightened whimper which, if you play it on an animal rights fund-raiser telethon, could probably net you another hundred thousand dollars in pledges for the next hour alone.  I actually paused from procrastinating to listen carefully to the puppy, once I figured out what I was hearing, just to make sure it didn't sound like it was in pain or something -- you know, got it's paw caught in the cookie jar or it's nose in the molasses or whatever Disney-esque mishap an adorable puppy can get into in a perfectly safe indoor environment.

And that's sort of the point.  There was, in fact, nothing wrong.  I know my neighbor -- that puppy probably had wet food, dry food, three kinds of fresh water, a toy, a blanket, a basket, and some sort of puppy themed dvd playing on the TV.  The puppy was perfectly safe -- there was nothing wrong.

Well, there was nothing wrong except the puppy was frightened.  And that, of course, made everything wrong -- and rendered useless all the chew toys and blankies and puppy treats in the land.

And truly, it struck me how often that is the case for an alcoholic too (no, really, it was the next thing I thought about, which means perhaps that I've got to get out more.)  But how often is an alcoholic absolutely consumed -- tortured -- by fear, when, if they stop and look around, there's nothing wrong.  Their needs are met that day, and they lack for nothing.  Over and over again, AA suggests that the problem is in my mind, not in the bottle -- and the longer I've stayed sober the more I see that to be true.

What AA -- and many wonderful sources of direction -- suggest is that the best antidote -- and preventative -- for that kind of fear is faith.  And that has certainly been my experience.  Rather than wax further on the topic myself, however, I think I'll throw the ball to Bill W., one of AA's co-founders, and quote from an article he wrote, first published in The Grapevine (AA's Newsletter) in January of 1962:

"In my own case, the foundation stone of freedom from fear is that of faith: a faith that, despite all worldly appearances to the contrary, causes me to believe I live in a universe that makes sense.

To me this means a belief in a God who intends for me a purpose, a meaning and a destiny to grow, however little and haltingly, toward His own likeness and image.  Before the coming of faith I had lived as an alien in a cosmos that too often seemed both hostile and cruel.  In it there could be no inner security for me."

Faith gives me a different way of looking at the world, and reminds me that, rather than being an alien, alone in hostile terrain, I have a place and a purpose -- even if I cannot see it in the moment -- and the Universe "conspires on my behalf."

Not all fear is groundless, as Bill knew from personal experience -- and he wrote of a way that faith can offer a way to deal with that, as well.  More from the Bill's piece in the Grapevine:

"The problem of resolving fear has two aspects.  We shall have to try for all the freedom from fear that is possible for us to attain.  Then we shall need to find both the courage and the grace to deal constructively with whatever fears remain.

And when fear persists, we know it for what it is, and we become able, through faith, to handle it.  We begin to see each adversity as a God-given opportunity to develop the kind of courage which is born of humility, rather than of bravado." 

The puppy was fine, by the way.  No need for concerned emails on that score -- it gave itself a scare, is all, and for no real reason.

The same can be said quite often, I believe, for alcoholics.

 

 

The Hidden Fear

Under the anger, hiding in the dark, is always, always a fear.  It can hide in a moment, in less than a moment, but hidden though it is, fear is the mother to whatever anger you feel.

 

If you want to treat the anger, first find the fear.

 

Silly fantasies and ancient myths agree on this:  If you know something's true name you have power over it.

Can you tell I watched "The Lord of the Rings" tonight?

"Fear is a chance for me to grow in my faith." Don't sentences like that just make you want to vomit?

"Oh God, oh God, get me out of this, and I promise I promise I'll never do it again!" is the first and most common prayer an alcoholic learns -- hell, we don't learn it, we're born with it.  So most of us have a relationship of some sort with God when we show up, even if we think we don't.  (As the book "Alcoholics Anonymous -- AA's Big Book -- describes it in Chapter 4, "We Agnostics," we treated God like a "bush league pinch hitter."  Put Him in when things were going badly, but other than that He was on the bench.)

There is a point in sobriety, after the fog clears, that one must look squarely at the question of "God, as you understand God."  What and how is it that you understand?  I had many old ideas about how the universe worked (and beliefs about God that I didn't even know I had) and it was through the experience of my fear in sobriety that those things were dragged into the light.

I was afraid that God's "Will" would hurt.  (Never mind that I didn't even have a clear idea in my head of what the phrase "God's Will" meant to me.  I challenge the AA's reading this right now to pause for a moment and ask themselves what their definition of the phrase "God's Will" is.  It's not important what your definition is -- mine has certainly changed over time -- but it is perhaps important that you have one, eh?)  I feared that the universe was an ongoing series of difficult, confusing and punishing lessons, and if I didn't figure them out I would be forced to repeat them until I eventually did, with each successive lesson being more arcane and painful than the one before (kind of the "God as Mean School Marm" school of spirituality.)

I had fear around God that I didn't even know I had -- so when AA and sponsors along the way counseled me to turn to a "Higher Power" to deal with my fears it was like asking me to eat a pepper to deal with my acid stomach.  The suggested treatment for my problem was in some ways merely more of the problem.

And in trying to apply this solution when I had so much fear around God it didn't work very well for me -- but it was working great for other people in the meetings -- according to them, anyway (and although at the time I suspected some of them were full of shit I had a nagging feeling that not all of them were, so it was working for some people.  Why not me?)  And thus it was that the fear became a lens for me to grow in my faith -- not because it called me to rely more upon God, but because it called me to seek a deeper understanding of what my idea of God really was.

Religion offers me a blueprint for who God is and how the universe works -- and that's a wonderful thing for many, many people of faith.  AA offers me a blank page, and tells me to make of it what I will -- a wonderful and freeing thing, yes, but a daunting and overwhelming one as well.

Eventually I have come to welcome the fear -- God knows it's been a familiar companion at various times in my life -- because it keeps my "conscious contact" with God fresh.  It challenges me to consider what deep, hidden ideas I still harbor about how God and the universe work.  "Where's your God when the check's not in the mail?" was how a mean old sponsor of mine used to put it (no, I'm not kidding.  He was really mean.  Great sponsor, but mean as a snake.  Just what I needed at the time, though.)  Is my relationship with God predicated on things going the way I think they should go?  That's not relying on God, that's playing God -- and we all know how well that works for alcoholics.  Fear pushes me to keep from sliding back into that view.  Fear pushes me to consider that maybe what I think is a bad thing is (perhaps) not a bad thing, if, in fact, it comes from God, and if, in fact, God is not out to get me.  ("God didn't get you this far just to drop you on your ass now" is how I've heard it put in meetings.)  And fear pushes me to re-examine whether I truly believe in God at all.

 

 

Driven or Paralyzed

After sponsoring a good number of people over the years, hearing lots of inventories (and of course looking at my own stuff), I have come to the conclusion that some alcoholics are driven by fear, and some are paralyzed by it.

They suffer equally, but the "driven by fear" tend to own more property.

Scary! Some things scare us so badly we hurt ourselves.

I think some things scare us so badly that we hurt ourselves -- and maybe we do that because we're so scared we don't know what to do -- or maybe we do that so the hurt distracts us and then we don't have to consider what it is that's so very scary -- or maybe we're using the fear as an excuse to do what we really wanted to do all along...

Either way, the fear is the source of the trouble, not whatever the scary thing is.  That's the part I need to remember -- it's not the scary thing, it's the scary thing.

Here are the questions I need to ask myself when confronted with deep, intense fear:

Is this an ego fear ("what will they think of me?")  or a survival fear? ("I'll be homeless!")

Am I afraid of something that is real or imagined?

If it's imagined, am I future-tripping?  Am I leaping to wild conclusions based on incomplete information and hasty assumptions?

If I'm fearful of something that is real, can I actually do anything about it? (ask God for courage to change things) Or not? (ask God for serenity to accept things).

And here are the three simple things I need to do when I'm scared (even if I don't think they'll help, because if I'm really scared my thinking probably shouldn't be trusted anyway):

1. Pray about my fear.  Pray about the scary thing, not about the scary thing. 

2.  Write about it.  Just grab a pen and paper and start writing -- no magic format, no special outline, just write.  I strongly suggest using pen and paper rather than a keyboard, since part of the object of the exercise is to calm my racing mind, and when I write by hand I slow my thoughts to the speed of a pen moving across the paper.

3.  Talk to someone about my fear.  Start with a sponsor, that's good, but any sober friend will do in a pinch.  (And this, kids, is why calling other people in AA as a habit is such a good idea -- when I'm really scared, I don't need to add the fear of calling someone on top of whatever fear I already feel.  If I'm in that spot I probably won't have enough oomph to actually pick up the phone.  I need to call people regularly when things are ok so that when things are decidedly not ok it's no problem to call.)

The opposite of fear is faith.   When I want to get out of the former I need to point myself in the direction of the latter and start moving.  These are the questions and actions that help me do that.

Cheers!