Mr. SponsorPants

re-think?

Mr. SponsorPants:  God?

GOD:  Yes?

Mr. SP:  Something I wanted to run by you.

GOD:  Shoot.

Mr. SP:  Okay, so, basically, any wisdom I can garner comes from experience.

GOD:  Pretty much.  Yes.

Mr. SP:  But it seems like my most instructive experiences most often come from my greatest foolishness.

GOD:  Well, I ... I ... <cough> I suppose ...

Mr. SP:  Maybe we could re-think that system?

a minute of silence

GOD:  My Ways Are Mysterious!

Mr. SP:  You just say that when you don't have a good answer, don't you.

GOD:  Mysterious!

Shooters -- Quick shots from Meetings

"When we do an inventory,

we're taking responsibility for the resentment,

not for the event."

they don't warn you

"Believing takes practice." I said.

My internal SponsorPants noted, "Huh, that's the second time I've said that today."

I was talking to a sponsee who was having a tough, tough time right now -- not with staying sober, but with surviving the economy -- and thus, they were struggling with some spiritual issues.  Ultimately I believe, when we're pressed into a corner and we're sliding into Survival Mode, it's difficult not to focus on -- and distort -- all the sharing we've heard until in our memory it seems like everyone else's Higher Power swoops in at the eleventh hour with a check or a job or a new kidney or something.

"What do you mean?" my sponsee asked.

"Well, I think that some things I know are true take a while for me to believe that they're true.  I have to practice believing." 

We'd spoken much at one point in my sponsoring them about the difference between knowing and believing.  The analogy that had best worked was one in which I suggested that knowing a bungee cord will not break is kind of where you are while standing there on the bridge looking over the side at the long, long way down .  People who believe the cord will not break are the ones that jump.  Sure, sure, the bitter/clever's among you will say 'Ha! That's not belief, that's hope!  And you better hope you're right!'  Okay, sure, if you like -- revel in your clever; I've been you.  I know how fun and powerful it feels.  But be careful, because the problem with clever is that when everything's just fodder for the next punchline then eventually everything you take in is just a "yes, but..." and that's a hard thing to have riding shotgun in your head when you're alone and it's late and you realize your alcoholism has been whispering in your ear for the past hour, and suddenly you are very seriously considering picking up your car keys and going out to do something very, very foolish -- and you think of something from AA that might help you... a meeting, a phone call, a prayer -- and your mind, always so, so clever about everything now, automatically goes "yes, but..."

And then your alcoholism crows in triumph.

But I digress.

As usual.

My sponsee just looked at me, and I took that as a need for a bit more on the idea.

"I tell myself that there is a reason for things, that there is a God in my life, that while I will never, ever be able to fathom it, I can align myself with spiritual forces to help me keep my balance in every situation, more-or-less."

What I did not want to say, not right then, anyway, is that as fear kept filling up their life like a slowly flooding bathtub, the level rising to a worrisome degree, they were sliding sideways into wanting a God that changed the world outside of them, not a God which changed the world inside of them.  You can have any kind of Higher Power that works for you in AA, and it can help you get sober -- but in general, for me, I've found that requests to God to order life to my specifications -- even if those specs are good and kind and right-sized and fair-seeming -- don't seem as effective as the ones in which I request a re-ordering of things within myself.  As soon as I get into asking God why "bad/unfair/hard" things are happening then I am narrowing my vision and seem to be setting myself up to have some real trouble in the Divinity Department.

But I digress.

Again.

"So believing takes practice?"  My sponsee barked a laugh that was as much anguish as it was amusement.  "So does delusion."

Mentally I flipped a coin and asked God to call it for me: Comfort or confront?

Comfort.  Check.

"Delusion isn't a practice -- it's a rut.  A trap.  A hamster wheel.  It's about fear of seeing a Truth."  Okay, HP, you started this, you better bring it home.  "I think the truth is that you've done a great job on a tough patch of road for a long time now.  You've done lots of footwork and things haven't seemed to come together yet.  I think the truth is that anyone would begin to scratch their head and wonder if, like the book says, "this faith business is for the birds."

"Does it say that?  I don't think you're quoting it right."  they said.

"Details, details..."  I waved my hand.  "Certainly the Big Book acknowledges that in tough going it's easy to doubt.  I didn't go over my Big Book Flash Cards today, so I'm not so sharp on the pages and exact quotes.  I'm old and I drank as a child, my memory can be spotty, you'll just have to bear with me."

 "Your memory works well enough -- too damn well sometimes, if you ask me." 

A saucy, slightly sarcastic spark.  Much better than the low-ebb misery they started this exchange with.  We were getting somewhere.

"Look," I said "Don't torture yourself with the whole 'Why are things so hard right now and where's God in this to help me?'  That's a zero-sum game, and it's just your fear making it seem like a reasonable line of thinking.  Instead consider this a chance to practice seeing a bigger Truth:  That if you look back over your shoulder you can see a pattern of Divine Grace in your life that is not just an optimistic re-interpretation of events.  Bad and sad and hard are real, but they do not add up to a compelling enough reason to abandon the spiritual principles you've been living for a while now..."

"Mr. SponsorPants," they cut me off "do you ever want to drink?  Do you ever think eventually we're all just going to get worn down and drink again?"

I flashed on this night for a moment.

"Do I ever want to drink?  Yes."

They looked at me, genuinely surprised.

"Do I think 'we're all just going to drink again'?  I can't speak for anyone else, but me?  Do I think I will drink again?"

I shrugged.

"The reason we say One Day at a Time is because it is a powerful metaphysical truth, maybe more so than we even realize -- but on a practical level it just helps me focus on not picking up a drink today, right now.  No matter how rough the road gets or how frightened I become."

"You're bringing it back around to me now, aren't you?  You're about to tie it all together with something and bring it back to me getting out of the fear and ... oh, probably something about service, right?"  They narrowed their eyes accusingly.

"Well duh, of course.  Hello?  It's what I do... Sponsor? Pants?  SponsorPants?"  I pretended to tap a microphone.  "Is this thing on?  Hello? Test. Test, 1, 2, 3...  What, I've been talking to myself here?  Or just the pleasure of hearing myself..."

They opened their mouth

"DON'T answer that." I jumped in. "What was that you were saying?  Service?  Getting out of yourself?  I was going to suggest a pizza and a nap and hiding under the covers for the rest of the week... but service is probably a better idea.  I'm on the pizza/nap plan myself, but, you know, whatever, it's your Program.  I'm just here for the coffee, mostly."

They laughed.  A little bit anyway, and it was good to hear them do so, since I don't think they'd even smiled in several days.

"You know, you're kind of hokey."

"Sometimes.  It works for me though."

They gave me a look, and there was something in it -- just a kind of gladness that someone was listening, that someone was there, trying, caring.  Suddenly I had to get busy with my napkin or they would see I had started to well up.  "Damn stupid program, damn stupid sobriety, damn stupid sponsees, damn stupid old fool" I thought to myself.

They tell you to go out and be helpful, to be of service, to do it so you keep your sobriety and save your own life.  They don't warn you properly how many people start to slip past all your defenses, all the walls, all the careful distancing you've spent a lifetime trying to maintain.

They don't warn you how much this business of helping people try and stay sober will change how you see things -- literally your perception changes -- and how rude and vulnerable and awful it is to suddenly realize, sitting there at coffee, that you care -- that your armor is all gone, and most of your petty little fears have been replaced with love.

well THIS was a new one...

I don't even know how to categorize this entry -- and my usual strictures about blurring details around peoples' anonymity are going to have to bend a little via the circumstances and trying to relate things clearly -- but then, the key players in this story with me aren't in AA, so the ethics aren't exactly the same, either.

First, a bit of background.  This guy is not just one of my downstairs neighbors, he is also my Landlady's ex-son-in-law.  (And here's how that story turned out, by the way.)

When I say "ex" son-in-law I do not believe there is any animosity between them at all.  My landlady seems to be a woman who prefers weddings to marriages (and maybe that's a good strategy for moving through life; she's always seemed happy and successful to me) -- but that has not colored their rapport one way or the other, as far as I've ever seen.

I live in a small building (which I love).  Less than half a dozen units total.  Two stories, some units up, some units down.  I'm on the up, so anyone coming to see me (or my neighbor next to me) walks more-or-less past the down folks to get to the stairs.  Not right through their living rooms of course, but as I say, it's a cozy layout.

I've rented from this gal for years, and while I am not privy to her personal finances, I understand she has a couple of different places with tenants on them -- though by no means is she in possession of vast swaths of urban real estate with a dozen or so properties put to various purpose.  All of which is to say she is not new to being a landlady nor are we new to each other.  She does not live on the property, but a few "towns" down the line -- an hour or three travel time, depending on the vagaries of traffic.

In an ironic twist, all of my neighbors -- save my landlady's ex-son-in-law below me (and his then fiance now wife) -- are sober members of Alcoholics Anonymous.  So when the call from my landlady came in, and what it was about became clear... well, although she was scrupulous in not naming anyone as a "source,"  I didn't exactly have to get the Clue set out to guess that it was most likely Professor Plum in the basement with a bottle.  But of course Ms. Landlady and Professor Plum don't know that everyone else in this cozy building is AA too.  (Is it just me, or does life come about a hair's breadth from farce at times?  I suppose in this case it would be a classic French Farce, with all of us running in and out of doors and up and down stairs, accusations and mistaken identities everywhere...)

Okay, I think the stage is set, you have the pertinent information... oh, one more thing:  I sat down to write this about five minutes after hanging up the phone -- the posting time is set so that it goes up on the blog "tomorrow" (today, as you read it) but this writing is close to the event, so my adrenaline is up a little, I freely admit.  But then also my memory is pretty fresh.  (And I have, as many sponsees have discovered to either their delight or chagrin, an excellent auditory memory.  I remember pretty well what I hear.  Still, I know no one is infallible -- I've always maintained that the conversations I write about here grasp the spirit of an exchange, but that it is not quite verbatim.)

Okay, now we're set.

Action:

ring

ring

ring

All things considered it's also a touch ironic that I had an AA friend over when the phone rang, so the call went into voicemail.  After they left, I listened to the message.

"Hi Mr. SponsorPants, this is Ms. Landlady calling."  Her usual friendly, breezy professional tone.  "Give me a call when you get the chance."

I had to think for a minute.  I paid the rent, right?  Yeah, yeah, of course I did.  Okay, let's give her a call.

ring

ring

"Hello!" she positively trilled into the receiver.

"Hello Ms. Landlady.  How are you?"

"Fine, fine..." 

We talked about the weather, for a bit, very friendly and chit-chatty, which is the history of our relationship.  I usually include a little note in with my rent check to her, kind of a "Hey there, hope you're having a nice blah-blah..." 

"So listen, Mr. SponsorPants," she began, changing gears, "I know in your work you help people get sober."  I had no idea she knew I was sober.  It's not my work, of course, but I don't expect people not in AA to be fully clear on the concepts or the language.  I immediately assumed that at some point she learned this from ex-son-in-law (referenced and linked above), as my sober neighbors, whom I know well, would not break my anonymity.  "I have a [family relation] who is an alcoholic" she went on (but she is not talking about ex-son-in-law, to be clear here).

Oh, I guess I know where this is going.  I think to myself.

She talks very briefly about how hard it is for people to get sober, and how her family relation isn't/hasn't etc.

"And I know you work with a lot of people."  She said.

"Well..." I was disgustingly humble in tone.

"And you know, sometimes people who want to get sober don't.  Or might not be what they say they are.  With all the people you have coming and going, I just wanted to know if, perhaps, you could meet with them somewhere else, say... maybe the park, or Starbucks or something?"

Huh?

"Excuse me... but ... what?"

Still in the same reasonable tone, she went on, "You know, as a landlord I have a liability issue, and, there are concerns ... people coming and going ... they might not be sober..."

I let her talk.  Let her get it all out, a quasi-rational sounding, yet very strange, list of concerns with no basis in legality -- or any of her damn business, for that matter.  The list of her issues included all kinds of vague things about people coming and going, other people not being as careful of the building so that things might not be safe, other people themselves not feeling safe, people not being who they say they are, her concerns as a landlady (whatever the hell that meant given how long I've lived here without a single issue or problem)  -- please understand she was completely friendly and rational in tone.  There was no hysteria or edge to the way she was speaking, which made what she was saying all the more surreal.  I didn't interrupt or argue.  Thank you thank you AA for that sometimes life-saving skill.

Deep breath.  Keep it together, Mr. SP.

"Well, Ms. Landlady, I want to be both a good neighbor and a good tenant, I think you know that.  And, yes, I do have people over for coffee and to talk quite regularly.  I'm a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous, and I have been for more than 20 years."

Damn.  Now I'd done it.  I brought up AA.  I broke my anonymity.  Here's the deal, kids:  People knowing you don't drink is not breaking your anonymity, regardless of what they may assume.  Saying you're in AA is breaking your anonymity.  And now that I had, I needed to remember that I was an example -- maybe the only example she'd ever see -- of the Big Book and AA.  As my dead sponsor, the late great John S. used to say (he who's wise counsel I miss every day) "If you break your anonymity you can't be an asshole, you have to be an example."  He would go on at some length, in fact, but that was the heart of it.

I took a deep breath and continued.  "First,  I am not in the habit of having people in my home that I do not know well enough to feel comfortable inviting over." 

Not that it's any of your damn business one way or the other, I thought.  Deep breath, Mr. SP.

"They are friends or people I know through the program of AA -- or they are dates.  I have dates over too, on occasion.  You rented to a single man in the big city, Ms. L.  We're both grownups, I'm sure you understand that too."  We both laughed our phony, worldly laughs for a moment.

This was, I am ashamed to admit, a spur-of-the-moment bit of psychological warfare, to perhaps throw her off balance.  But it's also the truth, and that's pretty much the coin I trade in (truth, not dates).  I was working to not feel angry or threatened, and if that particular bit of truth made her a little uncomfortable and off balance, I was okay with that.  Wrong?  I dunno, but it's what I did -- I was thinking on my feet and working to stay honest and calm.  Every time I could feel my voice start to press or go up I would pull it back.

I went on.  "I appreciate that you called me directly with your concerns.  Was there an incident or did something specific happen..."

I knew that there hadn't been.  No wet drunks have shown up on my doorstep in years -- when you're drinking the last place you want to go is to some AA's house, that's for damn sure.  And my dates are hardly the kind to cause comment, I assure you.  Unless your comment would be along the lines of "Huh, Mr. SponsorPants certainly has some varied tastes and some good luck on occasion... "  But I'm the kind of neighbor that worries if my music is too loud when you can't even hear it from one room to the next -- when I have the occasional date over no one is yodeling, doing exotic animal impersonations ("Okay, now do the Marmoset!  Oh!  Oh yes!  Marmoset meeee!") or banging on the walls shouting a military cadence.  Though sometimes I miss those years ...

She answered "No, no, no specific incident."

"Has there been an issue with noise, or property?  Has anyone had a bad exchange with someone I'm not aware of, or has there been anything at all ... missing mail?  Bent window screens?  Blocked cars?  Anything?"  I was getting a little angry, but I sounded very, very calm.  There are some people I've worked with in the past who might have heard me and thought 'uh oh' but I think it's fair to say there was no tone or bite in any of my questions, and my volume was completely normal.

"No.  No there hasn't been."  She was calm too.

I took another deep breath.  "Okay.  Well, then, just off the top of my head, I have to say that while I am committed to being a good neighbor and a good tenant, I'm sorry, but, I'm not willing to, in essence, not have my own friends in my own home..."  I admit that that last was delivered with emphasis, as the nature of her call really kind of washed over me while I was saying it.  Another deep breath I was able to finish with "... but if there's ever anything I can do to be of help to you or your family relation on this topic -- get you some literature, or help in any way, I am really happy to, I hope you know I mean that."

And sonuvabitch, I realized I did mean it.  Man, you simmer in this spiritual stuff long enough you can find that the willingness to be of service will run like a shining thread through the most unreal or unsettling situations.

"Oh. Well.  Yes.  Yes, I do.  Thank you." She replied, and seemed genuinely touched by that.

We got off the phone, I paced and breathed a little then called my sponsor and told him the whole long story.

"Well," he said, "you handled it better than I would have.  I'd have hung up on her."  He is a famous curmudgeon.  Have I mentioned that lately?

"But ... but I broke my anonymity!  I can't be an asshole if I do that.  I mean, I don't have to be a doormat, that's for sure, but I need to try and be the best example of ..."

He cut me off with a  "Hrmph"  -- he has a really expressive 'hrmph' -- "Well, you handled it perfectly.  Better than I would have anyway."

We talked a bit more, and the call ended with a promise to have coffee again soon.

I made a cup of tea and ... as I bobbled the bag up and down in the cup, Dark SponsorPants started his plotting:

Next time someone comes over, I'm going to hang over the stair railing and shout 'Now Serving Number 32!  Are you number 32?  Get up here!'  No! I know, I'll start to wear wigs and smear my face with make-up and roll around on the ground in front of their front door screaming and sobbing like Ann Margaret in the chocolate scene in "Tommy!"  No!  I know!  I'll tell all my sponsees to dress like we're in a coven and we'll wear black robes and hold hands and chant at the next full moon and then bang on their door and bellow 'We require a sacrifice!'... No! I'll collect empty beer cans and bottles from all over the neighborhood out of the recycle bins, and late at night I'll silently build a wall of them all in front of their front door so when they open it to leave in the morning... No!  I know!  I'll go to the Dollar Store and buy a dozen of those knock-off Barbie Dolls and use a lighter to melt all the doll heads to the windshield of their car as if it's some kind of gypsy curse -- it will be like the Triple Word Score of Retribution:  Upsetting, Inconvenient and Thrifty!  No!  I'll...

No.

Once Dark SponsorPants had his moment to spew -- the retaliatory fantasy is pretty normal and, admittedly, can be both fun and entertaining -- I pulled off his mask, revealing with no surprise at all my Fear, sitting on the shoulders of my Ego, sitting on the shoulders of my Alcoholism, like Huey, Dewey and Louie under a bed sheet, pretending to be a ghost to try and scare their Uncle Donald.

You know what I need to do?

I need to remember that things happen for a reason.  Now Ms. Landlady and I have had a conversation which included AA, and maybe I will be helpful to her or her family relation some day.  And also, she might be over-reacting from a stray comment someone made -- my neighbors might not have said anything at all to her, specific to me.  Certainly if her family relation is a real alcoholic, her impression of drunks is that we are thieving liars -- and when drinking that is an impression we richly deserve (in my own family there's not a drinking drunk that hasn't well earned that rep -- your's truly most of all...)  The point is to tell my alcoholism to shut the hell up, and to remind my ego and my fear that even though the call was to me, in the cosmic Big Picture it's really not about me.  My job is to do what I did:  Tell the truth and offer to help. 

Beyond that, you know what else I need to do?

Nothing.  Everything's fine.

It's a beautiful day, and I handled a situation which once might have baffled me with Grace -- which is what being sober is all about. 

And if I hadn't been able to do that, I have the tools to make it right after the fact, and that's what being sober is all about, too.

Got to admit though, a phone call from a landlady out of the blue asking you not to meet with your sponsees in your own place?  That's a new one on me.

Nay, do not hate your enemies...

Oh dear God I laughed so hard when I saw this.

The truth is, praying for the people I resent has always been Big Good Medicine for me.

But this still cracks me up.

(I suppose if you tell the people you resent that you're praying for them, it could most definitely be drifting into some bitchy p/a territory.  Best to just chug away spiritually without the announcement of intent... but considering it in this light, I can't say I'll never be tempted...)

that's all you

we are not responsible for happy endings.

that is god's business (if you believe in god),

or the result of some hard work and some good luck.

what we are responsible for,

what we can create,

are happy middles.

can't change your beginning,

the end is out of your hands (with faith or without it),

but the middle of your story, the right now...

that's all you.

(AA taught me this, and gave me the tools to do something about it).

Questions via Email: An Old Newcomer

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,

I found your blog not long ago and I read it every day now -- thank you for what you do here. 

I am almost 60 years old, and about seven months sober.  While I feel that the people I've met in AA are wonderful, and the program itself is too, lately I haven't been able to shake the feeling that it's really too late for me to try and do this.  I will be sitting in a meeting and someone will share and something they say will make me feel like it's foolish to think I can change a lifetime of bad habits, that it's too late for me to be trying this, what's the point of doing AA at this age, anyway, etc.

I haven't really found anyone in the meetings I go to that I feel like I can share this with, so I thought I'd write to you.

Any thoughts?

An Old Newcomer

Dear O.N.,

Thank you for writing, and congratulations on seven months sober.  That's getting into some serious time away from your last drink, and although it's one day at a time, I hope you wake up each morning and revel in the lack of hangover, the clarity of mind, the freshness of a day without being driven "under the lash of alcohol" as the AA literature so eloquently (and dramatically!) puts it.

One might respond to this question by pointing out that the time will pass anyway, each day will come and go, piling up into the weeks, months and years regardless of your feelings, so you might as well meet them sober.

And while that's (very) true, that is an intellectual answer to an emotional question -- you use the word "feel" in one form or another four times in your brief email in fact -- this question is not about what troubles your thoughts, but about what darkens your heart, my friend -- you deserve better than a flip intellectualization of the idea "might as well."

Fortunately for you we do not have to rely upon my erratic mental performance to come up with something helpful.  Alcoholics Anonymous offers very clear cut suggestions for a case like this.  In fact, let's let big Bill Wilson, in his own story in the Big Book, address it directly:

"... I was not too well at the time, and was plagued by waves of self-pity and resentment.  This sometimes nearly drove me back to drink, but I soon found that when all other measures failed, work with another alcoholic would save the day.  Many times I have gone to my old hospital in despair.  On talking to a man there, I would be amazingly lifted up and set on my feet.  It is a design for living that works in rough going." -- 'Bill's Story,' pg. 15 in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book)

A younger man might suggest that you are indulging in a little self pity, but I think that at times there is an honest melancholy which comes from doing the math as we get older -- so I would crack that young whipper-snapper smartly across the knuckles with my ruler and say ... wait, that's not good.  Now I sound not just like I'm old, but like I'm an old nun.  That won't do at all.  Let's just say that as we get older there are some times when the fact of our aging is an emotional reality we must contend with.

Alcoholics in recovery who think they can avoid melancholy on occasion, or a feeling of sadness sometimes are either over-medicated or under-recovered.  Sadness is a normal and healthy emotion at times.  The problem for alcoholics is that sadness plus self obsession leads to self pity -- and with our natural drift into self involvement that's where you might get yourself in trouble. 

All of which is to say I understand how you might feel that way sometimes; wistful about the years past and fearful about the enormous changes sobriety is bound to bring in the days to come.

But either way, understandable sadness or slippery self-pity, the answer for you lies in service, in reaching out to other people in the meetings and trying to be helpful to them, in getting into 12th Step action and so out of your head and thus out of your fear and budding depression.

The fact that these feelings are about being "too old" does not change the simple, powerful truth AA suggests over and over (and over):  Service keeps you sober, and as a byproduct, service brings a sense of purpose, fulfillment and (dare I say it?  I dare!) joy.  The solution lies in reversing the flow, giving away what we have and working to be helpful to others, first in the meetings and in our homes, and then in the world around us.

Oh, and one more thing, Mr. Almost 60 Years Old:  Dr. Bob Smith, co-founder of this fellowship which is saving both our lives, was 57 years old when he got sober, so you are in good company my friend.

Take heart.  We are never too anything for miracles -- and what is your daily sobriety at seven months after years drinking but that very thing:  A Divine reprieve from the daily hell of a tiny, dark and toxic life, riddled with warped thinking and self-centered, obsessive fear -- I do not have to spend the day with you to know that your life today is literally transformed -- and the word for that, again, is "miracle."

You deserve it too -- there's no expiration date on saving your life -- or on experiencing Grace, either.

It is never too late for anything in AA.

Pass it on.

Love,

Mr. SponsorPants

Questions via Email: Constitutionally Incapable

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,

How can we tell when a friend in recovery is constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves and getting this thing?

A friend of mine has recently relapsed three times in the last couple of months.  They'd been sober for more than a couple of years before.  For some reason they couldn't do the work this time.  On their last relapse they had hung out with some of their best friends in AA all day (including my sponsor), then went straight to a liquor store.  Later that same night they [were victim of a violent crime due to decisions made under the influence].  They're now in treatment.  I'm hoping this is enough of a low to make them willing, if it is God's will. 

I've talked to a couple of people in recovery and they seem to fall into two camps:  Constitutionally incapable are only for those who are actual psychopaths, which my friend is not, and those who believe my friend's defect of dishonesty was unable to be surmounted and made them constitutionally incapable.

What is your experience with people who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves?  Can someone go from being willing and capable enough to do the deal for three years and then be incapable?

-- 5 Months Sober in the South

[Mr. SP note for the new kids:  The question in the email above is referencing a passage at the beginning of Chapter 5, 'How it Works' in the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (AA's Big Book).  It says:  "Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path.  Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves..."  It goes on to say, (though I'm going to paraphrase very heavily here) that you can get sober even if you're batshit crazy, if you have the capacity to be honest.  (Italics mine.)]

Dear 5,

First, congratulations on 5 months sober!  Rock on!  That is outstanding.  Every single day is a victory, a testament to your own commitment to recovery, and a real-and-for-true miracle.  As I am fond of saying, just remember that at the end of every day, when your head hits the pillow, if you didn't drink or use or kill yourself then you win, and all the rest of it will just have to work itself out.

When I was newly sober I recall the old timers (grizzled, grouchy lot that they were) puffing away on their cigarettes and muttering things like "You're not done till you're done" and "When you get in the cage to dance with the gorilla, you're not done dancing till the gorilla says you're done dancing."  (I think that was it.  It was something about dancing with gorillas).  Though over time I have found there is a hard, hard truth to those sentiments, I find them no more satisfying now than I did when I first heard them.

Frankly, my experience with people who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves is heartbreaking.  And your email prompted me to think about all the times when I've thought that or said it about someone, and reflect upon what my attitude was about that person, my snapshot of events, my thinking at the time... I am ashamed to say that sometimes (not too often, but sometimes) my love and concern was blunted by my fear and frustration.

Is it possible for someone to have the ability to be constitutionally capable of being honest with themselves and then lose that ability?  Oh, I rather imagine that with the alcoholic's bent for self delusion and self destruction that anything is possible along those lines.

 I think one way that alcoholics in a cycle of relapse become stuck is that they drift from the disease concept into the idea of being "good" and "bad."  That not drinking is "being good" and when they get angry or scared (same thing, I know) or triggered in some mental and emotional way they decide either "fuck it" or "I deserve it."  After all, how many of us have used "I deserve" to justify all sorts of smaller, self destructive fixes?  "It's been a helluva week/day/hour, I deserve this dessert/cigarette/etc."  And for the drunk who keeps drinking, all the shame/guilt stuff, all the "I'm letting people down" ego posturing can just feed the loop of "I've been bad so now I feel bad so screw this I deserve to feel better..." (consummate alcoholic logic). 

Sometimes, too, it's not about their constitutional capability but that there is a secret.  Something that they are not ready to share or face, and until that comes out into the light it will be the source for a relapse cycle.  (Past trauma, current indiscretion, whatever).  I have seen people have a run of sobriety which unearthed something buried by alcohol and that poisonous memory can overwhelm them for a while.  (If that's the case your friend being in treatment is a good place for that to potentially get handled.)

You didn't mention it, but there might also be a medication somehow keeping them in the fog of the phenomenon of craving (a secret sleeping pill/diet pill dance for example, or wrongly dosed or diagnosed ADD meds or the like).  Though of course medication, in the right dosage, and prescribed by a doctor, is not in and of itself a bad thing.  I think it's fair to say, though, that alcoholics do not have a very good track record of being honest with our health care providers, so we are not easy to treat or prescribe for -- and once that dance starts -- if you're "working" it rather than actually need it -- the ability to be honest with yourself is deeply eroded.

But I can tell you this:  I have seen miracles in AA.  I have seen people that were unwashed and unwell transform into amazing examples of not just sobriety, but humanity.  I have seen people break down and then break through to the "psychic change" we must all have to stay sober, coming into it in a rush -- and what is that but a nearly spontaneous breakthrough in the ability to be honest with ourselves?

It can be frustrating and frightening to be close with someone in AA who is a chronic relapser.  The challenge for us all is to remain open and loving without cosigning any bullshit that crops up along the way. 

(Sometimes it's hard not to feel waves of self righteousness, or a subtle superiority, or an acute impatience with someone for not "getting it.")

Ultimately I try not to decide one way or the other about someone's ability -- or lack thereof -- to be honest with themselves -- and if I privately wonder about it sometimes I am careful not to discuss it beyond my sponsor or a few good friends, and then only in the spirit of learning more about how cunning, baffling and powerful the disease can be -- sort of learning how not to fall into those same traps in my own mind from the struggle of my friends, even as I still try to be open and helpful to them.  A tall order to pull all that off, but that's what I aim for.

I believe that passage in the Big Book is very true, though, and I'll hold out some good thoughts for your friend that this time something clicked.

Hope some of that was helpful.

Thanks for writing!

Cheers!

Mr. SponsorPants

The Support Group

And here is the story, as promised.  (Most of my made-up blog stories are analogies that strike me as I'm thinking about a particular point, trying to think of a good way to express something about it.  They're pretty much all dialog, as opposed to when I'm trying to share a particular memory or experience.  The idea for this came to me while I was responding to yesterday's email, trying to consider the issues it raises from a variety of angles.)

______________________________

"Hello, I'm here for the support group."

"Oh, that's wonderful.  Is this your first time here?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Well welcome.  What... if you don't mind my asking, what kind of cancer have you been diagnosed with?  I only ask so that maybe I can introduce you to some folks who have  similar diagnosis, and maybe you can..."

"Oh, I, ummm... I don't actually have cancer."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I have Diabetes.  Really bad.  Apparently when they took a blood sample the other day it was indistinguishable from the icing on a Cinnabon...

[silence for a minute]

<cough>  ...yeah, that was a ... I was trying to be... anyway, I'm here for the support group.  They tell me this is the best one in the city."

"Well, I suppose it is, but it's for people with a cancer diagnosis."

"Are you telling me you won't help me?"

"No... I mean, not exactly.  But ... don't you think you should go where they're talking about what you're facing?  What you'll have to deal with?"

"But everyone says that the cancer support group has the most solid support -- it's been around the longest and... well, it's the best.  We're all sick and frightened and need help, why not come to the 'best' place to get it -- support-wise, I mean."

"Yes, but ... here they talk about how they feel when telling family and friends about their diagnosis, or how to stay upbeat while waiting to get on a new drug trial or how to cope with depression after a difficult round of chemo..."

"I'm going to have to tell my family and friends about my illness.  I'm going to have to stay upbeat while I wait for stuff from the doctor.  I'm going to be depressed after ... stuff."

"I'm... I'm sure you are.  But..."

"For a support group you don't seem very welcoming."

"It's not that I'm... don't you think you'll get more out of a group which is talking about Diabetes?  How to deal with changing your diet, or sticking to your exercise regimen, or the best way to administer your ... "

"I don't want to hear about those things, I want to hear what you have to say here.  Are you telling me I can't come in?"

"No, it's just ... I mean we welcome anyone but really I think you'll get more out of a group which talks about your specific..."

"Look, can I come in or not?"

"I... yes.  Yes."

"Good.  I have a lot to say about how I'm dealing with my diagnosis and I need a safe space to ..."

"Wait, you want to talk about your Diabetes diagnosis in a Cancer Support...?"

"Sick is sick, and afraid is afraid and it's all the same thing."

"No.  Yes.  But..."

"Oh, hey, how long is this thing?  Does this group have a smoking break?"

______________________________

Addiction is the same... but it's not the same.  To shoehorn another analogy in on top of the one above, I think of it like two people who have arthritis -- one has it terribly in their hands, the other in their feet.  As they have the same disease they will definitely be helped by the same medicine.  Yet the one who has it in their hands needs different help on a daily basis (opening jars of jelly, turning the car key, operating the TV remote, turning the knob on the shower if it sticks) than the one who has it in their feet (they'll need help with special shoes, and dealing with trouble getting around and walking, or pressing the brake and the accelerator in the car).  Yes, they have the same condition, and yes, they'll get healing from the same medicines, but the specific challenges they'll face, and some of the tools they'll need to use to cope, might vary somewhat, depending on tasks and situations...

Hell, none of these analogies satisfy me completely, and it's not a simple issue.  At heart I pray that anyone struggling with addictions and "isms" can find the help they need... and I believe that for many people, that help can be found in the 12 Steps ... yet I also believe no one would be helped by a program of "Everything's Anonymous"... 

So we keep our own side of the street clean, we honor the traditions, we try to respect local custom, and we make every effort to be loving and tolerant and open-minded... and then we Trust.

Questions via Email: Trouble in Paradise

Dear Mr. SponsorPants,

Here in our small rural town we are being invaded with the same drug addicted, court appointed folks that are pouring into AA meetings all over the country.  The issues for us are these:

1. We have some members in our established Home Group with considerable time who say (and I quote): "AA should be inclusive, not exclusive."

2. The Newcomers we are talking about ONLY say they are alcoholic so they can stay in the meeting, and now some want them to share, because they apparently have a greater grasp on the traditions than our enabling old timers.

3.  What I am seeking is ammunition; what are other groups doing?  We are calling Business Meetings, and allowing the 4th Tradition [Mr. SP note for the new kids:  4th Tradition: "Each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups or AA as a whole."] to work its magic, but like I found on this site "...as long as you're not creating damage to AA as a whole."

4.  This is the rub, I believe that by allowing these drug addicts to sit in meetings, not hear their message and then stand the real chance of using again without a solution, in addition we let them share now, IS not against the best interest of AA as a whole...

I would be curious to hear your take on this.

Thank you...

D.

Dear D.,

I hope you don't mind the liberty I took of making a few minor edits within your email for brevity and clarity -- as always I try hard not to change the spirit of what someone says in their email.

And thank you for writing -- it's clear that you both care very deeply about your home meetings and AA as a whole, plus have a real (and legitimate, I think, but I'll get to that in a bit) concern for the welfare of some of these Court Card folks.

I'm going to take it by the numbers and try to address each point directly, plus, I have a few more thoughts I'd like to share with you after I address your specific points (you could see that coming, right?), and then I wrote a little story for you.

1.  I agree with this sentiment one hundred percent.  AA should be inclusive and not exclusive.  In both the long form and the short form of the 3rd Tradition [Mr. SP note for the new kids:  3rd Tradition:  "The only requirement for AA membership is a desire to stop drinking."] I think the message is clear:  We're not about using arbitrary or self-determined criteria as a way to keep people out of AA as a whole.  As you probably know, the original text in the Big Book used to say "... the only requirement for membership is an honest desire to stop drinking..." (italics mine -- and you can still see that in the Big Book you have on your shelf right now, in the Foreword to the First Edition) but the original authors of the Big Book, those neatly divided first hundred (or so) alcoholics (divided about half-and-half between strong faith and agnostic, for the most part, hence the broad, amazing open-mindedness of AA literature in all matters spiritual, particularly considering the era in which it was written) deemed even that simple qualifier too dangerous.  Yes, at Closed meetings it is requested that everyone be/identify as an alcoholic, but at an open meeting, as I have always understood it and practiced it, anyone at all is welcome to be there.  I choose to believe that God has a hand (I suppose that would be Hand, because what good is a Big God with little tiny hands, proportionately speaking, unless He's like the God of Watch Repair, which might actually not be a bad deal, since people are always telling me things happen "in God's time" and God and I are clearly on very different schedules, prompting my occasional prayer of "Hey, God, wind your watch!" -- so a God with tiny hands ... wait, I'm way off track)  -- God has a Hand in who's in the room, but the why of the who may not be clear to me for some time, and may look nothing like I thought it would.

2.  I am a drug addict.  I am addicted to the drug ethyl alcohol.  In some ways the distinction of "alcoholic" vs. "drug addict" is a fiction.  Yet in other ways very much not, I freely admit that.  Paradox!  Let's leave a lengthy (and windy, probably) dissection of how they are and are not the same thing to some other time.  The issue of people identifying as an alcoholic only so that they may stay in the meeting is a non-issue.  (And I'm not saying you're making it one, exactly, I'm just responding to the point in general).   We're just not about any sort of qualification or quiz or criteria on that.  If you say you're an alcoholic then we take you at your word, even if we rightly suspect that you are only giving lip service to it.  I know scores of people who, after coming to AA for a while and thinking that they weren't an alcoholic, discovered that they are.  (And we really need to keep that on the "down low."  If the CDC discovers that you can actually catch alcoholism in an AA meeting they're bound to try and shut us down.)  As for who gets to share and who doesn't ... well, you're spot on, that's all about Tradition 4.  You can vote to have a meeting format amended to state (for example) that "while this is an open meeting, and all are welcome to be here, we ask that only those who identify as an alcoholic participate in the sharing" or "this is a closed meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, and in keeping with custom this meeting is for those who identify as alcoholics -- if you are not an alcoholic but would like to learn more, we encourage you to attend an open meeting, labeled as such in the meeting directory, or to find a 12 Step Meeting which more closely addresses your needs" or some verbiage which tries to guide people in what is going on.  Half the time people are overwhelmed, or not listening to the readings with their full attention, but it's a good start.  Be careful.  The more complex, rigid, rule bound and restricted a format becomes the more a meeting suffocates under the weight of its own format.  I know, I've killed plenty of meetings with my handy, best-of-intentions format additions, which I bullied through the group conscience slash business meeting with my usual guile and chicanery.  (Okay, okay, not plenty, exactly, but it sounded so much more impressive than saying "a couple" -- or, well, actually, "one").

3.  I think I pretty much covered that in my (maybe too) lengthy answers above -- short version is, I'm not sure I have ammunition for you, exactly, but that yes, business meetings to address what a format says is how meetings I've been to have handled it.  Again, though, less is more in this arena.  Patience and tolerance have proven far more effective than legislation.

4.  You are spot on in your concern for the folks who do not, at a fundamental level, identify (and I mean identify inside themselves, not in what they say out loud) as an alcoholic.  I believe the miracle of healing begins via the process of identification.  No matter how loving the group, how intelligent, entertaining and articulate the message, when I was new I do not think I could have gotten sober sitting in Gamblers Anonymous meetings.  Yes, it's the same 12 Steps, and they would have discussed the same spiritual principles, etc., but the process of identification would have been too intellectual -- too abstract.  I needed to hear people who drank like I did and struggled in the same way I did with staying sober.  With that said, there are plenty of drugs in my story, my relapse at 90 days and then 2 years was on drugs (if I'd have picked up a drink I wouldn't be sitting here now, I am sure of it) and there is no such thing as a "pure" alcoholic.  But your concerns for these people are well founded.  While I don't know of a simple solution to the issues you raise, I am fairly certain that making meetings feel in any way less welcoming is probably not a part of it.  (And I am not suggesting that you are advocating that.  Again, I'm just addressing the point in general.)  As far as the best interest of "AA as a whole" I am, at this point in my sobriety, far less worried about it than I used to be.  AA's Traditions have proven fairly bullet proof against the best "bright ideas" and "suggestions for improvement to AA" by the most motley assortment of drunkards, junkies, scoundrels of every stripe, criminals both petty and grand, and, perhaps most dangerous of all, "experts" for a good number of decades now.  AA's "reputation" to the world at large is not in any danger.  The people who have grave misgivings, judgments and prejudice against a Program which offers a spiritual solution at the heart of it will remain unhappy with AA regardless, and those who have an open mind will not likely find it closed because court appointed people wind up attending and possibly sometimes sharing -- though I follow your logic and understand how you came by your concern.  I sincerely believe two things:  Your questions and concerns do you credit, and speak to a real commitment to both your recovery and AA as a whole, and also that it will all work itself out without too much trouble, and you will look back on this and think, "huh, that all worked itself out better than I might have thought it would."  That I can say I have genuine experience with.  Patience.

Now a few thoughts for you:. 

Not only have I had very similar experiences along these lines, I have had them more than once.  For example, I raised my hand at an AA business meeting one time and suggested that they change the meeting to a CMA (Crystal Meth Anonymous) meeting formally, since that's what it was anyway.  I suggested that nothing required the meeting which occurred in that space and at that time actually be an AA meeting -- they weren't one in fact so why be one in name?  From the outcry you would have thought I told them their Mother was a whore (which, given that a handful of folks in the room were actually sex workers anyway seemed a little... but again, I digress.)  It is a fine line to walk between my trying to pull my weight as a sober member working to keep a particular meeting in line with Tradition and local custom (which are not the same thing by the way, but custom has its place too) and my fear and ego waltzing away with me.  And no matter which is happening, Statesman-ism (yay!) or Deacon-ism (boo!), every addict/alcoholic's nature is a combustible combination of willful defiance and propensity to play the victim, and it ignites into a shrill "You're telling me I'm not welcome here!  You're judging me!" in response to these issues when in fact that's never what I mean to say or do at all.

Well, not entirely.

I had to ask myself, and thus I ask you, "What are you afraid of?"

And then I had to do some good old fashioned four column inventory work.  (This is from an actual inventory of mine):

I resent (Column 1): These damn Crystal Meth addicts in my AA meeting. (You can substitute whatever is a best fit for you there:  Court Card Carriers or Druggies are both handy handles).

The Cause (Also known as Why/What did they/do they do? Column 2):  Because they don't talk about drinking they only talk about meth!  They don't identify as alcoholics, they only identify as addicts -- or worse, "tweakers" -- and sometimes they have such a chip on their [expletive deleted] shoulder about it.  Plus they seem so [expletive deleted] arrogant, like their drug use is "tougher" or "cooler" than drinking.  And they ... and they...

Oh, I went on for some time.

 Affects my (Column 3):  Self Esteem -- I feel stupid and out of it.  Old and invisible and unimportant in the meeting.  Personal Relations -- I don't relate to them, and some of them are quite charismatic and interesting and sexual and I feel cut out of things and people pay less attention to me.  Some of my friends pay attention to them and I feel threatened by that.  Fear -- I love AA and it saved my life and I'm afraid this is going to hurt it.  I love this meeting and I don't get what I used to out of it.  I am afraid this meeting will change or implode because of this.  I am afraid of the confrontations that are coming from this.  I am afraid of how this makes me feel...

Just a rough summary from what I wrote.  Now, I promised you a story and...

What? 

Oh.  Yes.  *cough*  MY part.  The "fourth column."  What is my part in all this...

Where had I been selfish, self-seeking, dishonest and frightened.  Where was I to blame for some of this (Column 4):

It is selfish to want to keep a meeting frozen the way I like it, and not consider that all living things grow and evolve, even things rooted in custom and Tradition -- and an AA meeting is as living a thing as anything, in some ways.  It's selfish of me to want to keep a meeting "all for myself" and not consider that other people, at the beginning of a different (but no less difficult than mine) journey might be here for a Reason beyond a what I see right now.  In other words it is selfish of me (and ego ego ego) to not consider God in this.  I am self-seeking that is, literally seeking an identity, a sense of self, by wanting everyone in the meeting to meet a criteria that matches me.  I am seeking my self in trying to surround myself with like-minded people, who think and talk the way I do -- in this way I feel validated, more "real" and "correct."  I am self-seeking in trying to be a person of influence in the meeting.  I am dishonest with myself in how much this is about what makes me uncomfortable as opposed to worrying about AA as a whole.  I'm frightened that something I love will go away, and/or change into something unrecognizable, or that my needs won't be met...

And on and on.

D., that's honestly from an inventory I wrote about that damn meeting with all the Crystal addicts in it from, oh gosh, probably six or seven years ago now.  (It is a special kind of humbling to re-read your old inventories and see so often the same petty bullshit).  I share this with you here only as an example, and hopefully one that helps -- in no way am I suggesting that any or all of this is what is going on with you.  But I would be remiss if I didn't say that something in the tone of your email does suggest that something is going on with you (the word "invaded" at the beginning of your email, for example, is a pretty loaded term, D.), and in my humble experience, no matter how insightful you might be about that, there is no substitute for a written inventory when it comes to self-examination.  Maybe some contrary action is in order.  (Which is to say I strongly suspect some contrary action is in order).  Rather than present the face of intolerance (even unwittingly) or act from your fear try to extend the hand of fellowship and come from love.  Be the example of what you think an AA person should be towards people new to the meeting, and table for a bit what "kind" of newcomer they are.  Invite some of them for coffee, or make a special point of saying hello and finding out how they're doing.  The reality is you're on Home Ground, and they are facing legal trouble and are required to attend a group that might seem quite alien at first.  Given that, they must be anxious or frightened, and just want to "get through" their AA "sentence."  Reach out, though I admit it will be very challenging at first.  Difficult, yes, but contrary action is the foundation for some of my best moments in AA.

Oh dear God this has gotten way out of hand.  I promised you a story, and by God you'll get one -- but how about we do that tomorrow, okay?  The brain can only retain what the seat can withstand, and this has gone on long enough.

Again, D., thank you for writing and for bringing these issues up for me to address -- they're going to be with us for a while, since while AA may be Divinely Inspired (as some claim) it's left in our all too human hands to make it work.

Cheers!

Mr. SponsorPants