Author: webservant

29th Recovery Birthday Facebook Post (7.15.2015)—Anne L

On July 7, 1986, 29 years ago, I woke up sick, shamed, hungover, and in deep animal confusion. I woke up this way most mornings. Why couldn’t I stop after 6 or 7 drinks? Why didn’t I have an “off” switch when I had that first drink every day?

Well, “Why?” is not a useful question.

I thought about having a cool refreshing beer, just to get all the flies going in one direction.

I was 32, with three published books, and the huge local love of my family and life-long friends. I was loved out of all sense of proportion. I gave talks and readings that hundreds of people came to. I had won a Guggenheim Fellowship, although, like many fabulous writers, I was drunk as a skunk every day. I was penniless and bulimic, but adorable, and cherished.

But there was one tiny problem. I was dying. Oh, also, my soul was rotted out from mental illness and physical abuse. My insides felt like Swiss cheese, until I had that first cool, refreshing drink.

So, not ideal. The elevator was going. It ONLY goes down; until you finally get off. As a clean, sober junkie told me weeks later, “At the end, I was deteriorating faster than I could lower my standards.”

And against all odds, I picked up the 200 pound phone, and called the same sober alkie that my older brother had called two years earlier, when he had hit his coked-out bottom. The man, a Jack Lemmon type, said, “I will come get you at 11:30. Take a shower, and try not to drink till then. The shower is optional.”

I didn’t; when all else fails, follow Instructions. I couldn’t imagine there was a way out of all that sickness and self-will, all those lies and secrets, but God always makes a way out of No Way.

So I showed up. Before I turned on Woody Allen, he said that 80% of life is just showing up. And I did. There were all these other women who had what I had, who’d thought what I’d thought, who’d done what I’d done, who had betrayed their families and deepest values, who sat with me that day, and said “Guess what? Me, too! I have that too. Let me get you a glass of water.” Those are the words of salvation: Guess what? Me, too.”

Then I blinked, and today is my 29th recovery birthday. I hope someday it will be yours, too, or at least your 1st. Don’t give up on yourself. In recovery, we never EVER give up on anyone, no matter what it looks like, no matter how long it takes.

Because Grace bats last. That spiritual WD-40, those water wings, that second wind–it bats last. That is my promise to you.

Happy birthday to me, and maybe to you. As my beloved ee Cummings wrote, “(I who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birthday of life and love and wings.)”

Don’t. Give. Up. Because guess what? Me too.

-Anne L.

https://www.facebook.com/AnneLamott/posts/699854196810893

God, please help me to complete my housecleaning by admitting to another human being the exact nature of my wrongs. Please remove any fears I have about this step and show me how completion of it will remove my egotism and fear. Help me to see how this step builds my character through humility, fearlessness and honesty. Direct me to the right person who will keep my confidence and fully understand and approve what I am driving at. Then help me to pocket my pride and go to it, illuminating every twist of character, every dark cranny of the past so I may complete this step and begin to feel near to you.” (72:1, 72:2, 73:0, 74:2, 75:2)*

*The numbers in parenthesis at the end of each prayer indicate the page and paragraph where the wording was used from the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous to create the prayer.

http://friendsofbillw.net/twelve_step_prayers

No Tourists Allowed: Seeking Inner Peace and Sobriety in War-Torn Sudan (Excerpt) by Shannon E.

As I sit here soaking in lavender oil and the ease of Sunday morning, I reflect fondly on the irreverent way I left war-torn Sudan.  I was, in every sense, a heartbroken girl fleeing in a panic, and due to my PTSD I was headed for the super-nova of downward spirals. According to Hollywood—and its promise of a cookie cutter ending—I had failed the quest.

It wasn’t until rewriting this story after I had nearly four years of consecutive recovery time under my belt that I saw the beauty in the true story, the one about struggle and darkness, the story that told of a real person on a real mission to find inner peace.          This type of expedition is mainly foul and insufferable, but at least it gets your blood pumping and heart racing. Today I know that asking questions and not fitting in doesn’t make me rebellious or a bad person; it makes me a soul who was born to break the mold and to challenge what is. Sudan, with all its harrowing experiences, helped mold me into a talented and strategic writer, and now I utilize this skill to spread the message of hope to those seeking for recovery from addiction, too.

But I only obtained this clarity after immense suffering. When I first landed a contract for this book I was still a punk kid, a real royal egomaniac. The first draft of the story, as my agent, Carolyn, told me, was filled with anecdotes, but lacked depth of character. Carolyn was, in her roundabout way, saying that in my current state of active addiction, I lacked depth of character. Of course, as an alcoholic, I was sure she was wrong and I was right, and so I pressed on writing and drinking the night away. What happened afterward—the multiple DUIs, the loss of my dream job and book contract, the four years of court-ordered probation—led to experiences of incredible humiliation, rejection, and despair. At rock bottom, I nearly lost my life several nights while drunk driving (and could’ve harmed another). Fewer than five years ago, I was in a maroon jumpsuit in the Salt Lake County Jail with very little hope of ever making it this far.

At the time I couldn’t see it, but my fall from grace was a gift. Ultimately, the suffering led to the obliteration of my ego, that mask we all wear to appear tough and unbreakable but really serves to hide our insecurities and suffocate the budding potential within.

Suffering was the conduit that led to the inner peace I’d been searching for all my life.

I’m still Indy—intent on taking out the bad guy—but instead of focusing my efforts on the hoodlums of the external world, I focus on the only one I’m responsible for: my ego. The good news is that the hooligan within is less lethal, and knowing that my dark side is the catalyst to unleashing my great potential allows me to enjoy the experience of being an imperfect human in this rowdy, haphazard world. Hostility and peace-making—these are the contrasts inside all of us. The true battle of good versus evil does indeed lie within. As warriors on Earth we’re here only to conquer our own perceptions so that they are beacons of love and compassion for everyone. In our own way we are all ships battling the harsh and lonely waters of life, desperate for a space to rest our weary heads and experience peace. By transforming our perceptions from judgement to love we transcend ourselves and heal the planet. This is our great work.

And so, my friends, let us heed the call.

—Shannon E.

Editor’s note: Shannon E lives in Salt Lake City and is an author, international freelance journalist, and advocate for addiction recovery. Despite training as a writer on humanitarian issues for the United Nations, Shannon prefers sharing her personal stories of addiction and recovery to infuse hope in those still struggling.

The first time I admitted to another human being, and probably to myself, that I was an alcoholic was to my then husband. We were at one of his friend’s wedding and I had to stay in the car because I was so drunk and was having a meltdown.  A couple of weeks before, I had spent five nights in jail after being arrested for a DUI. Our nine month old little girl was in the car with me when that happened. I don’t remember much of that conversation in the car but I do remember finally bursting out between all the tears “I’m a drunk” and feeling a great sense of relief. That was the very beginning of a long struggle with recovery.

I had heard of AA but didn’t know anything about it. So I looked it up on the internet but the words God and Higher Power scared me and even pissed me off. Instead, I chose to go to an outpatient program. Ironically, one of the first things I found out is that we were required to attend at least one AA meeting a week!

I completed the 32 weeks program and kept going to my AA meeting. I had come to actually like my 6:30 am meeting with who I used to call “the grumpy old men”. But I was still a stubborn atheist and refused to work the program. I had been an elite athlete my whole life and had plenty of discipline and will power to stay sober. You can imagine how well that worked out! The next 5 years would be filled with periods of sobriety, periods of heavy drinking and lots and lots of lies. I hurt and deceived many people during those years, and created a lot of wreckage.

After the birth of my twins, I was back on the bottle and heading towards a complete state of self-destruction. I separated from my husband and the kids went to stay with their grandparents in a different state. I was devastated and I literally drowned my sorrows. I became a complete slave to alcohol and it was going to take me to some very dark places, places I would have never imagined I’d go. Alcohol took all my judgment away and led me to a bad relationship, to drugs, prostitution, troubles with the law, the loss of my kids and everything else that I had, including my dignity and self-respect. That’s when I came crawling back to the rooms of AA, alone, scared and oh so paranoid! But something had changed in me and I was now certain that there was a Higher Power, a God, and that although He was definitively showing me what tough love was, He was behind me 100%.

I dove into the AA program; I found a sponsor, started working the steps and got involved in service work. I even got a job at the Fellowship Hall. Those were still some pretty dark days though. I didn’t necessarily want to stay sober; I just knew I had to.

After a while, the clouds started to dissipate and I couldn’t deny that I was actually feeling pretty good and was even happy for the first time in my life. Even more astonishing, I( yes me) had friends, real friends! People who understood me, cared about me and for whom I cared about deeply as well. So I dove even deeper in the program. I introduced new things into my recovery such as meditation, Church, exercise and AA’s sister fellowships.

Today, I have just over 7 months and I love my sober life. Even with the hurts, the drama, the disappointments and the frustrations that sometimes come my way, I would not trade this gift for any drink or drug. And I am grateful for every bits of my past because it led me to where I’m at today; home.

-Veronique Leclerc

(note: this is a reprint from a few years ago)

Tradition Four

While answering the telephones at Central Office, on several occasions I received a call of this nature: “Group is doing it wrong.  Something has to be done. Call the AA Police.”

Sorry there is no AA Police.

In my home group, on the last meeting of the month, the current chair asks for a  volunteer to chair for the next month.  Several years ago, an individual with about 90 days of sobriety volunteered.  He had shared several times during the previous 3 months.  He always introduced himself as an addict.  He shared that he was a professional in the mental health area. He was intelligent and charismatic.

At his first meeting as chairperson, he rearranged the tables and chairs.  We had around a dozen visitors from a local college in attendance.  Our new chair chose a topic dealing with mental health and them shared with the group that he had never had a drink in his life.  I was appalled.  My group had become a group therapy session.  Something had to be done!

I talked to our group secretary and our GSR.  I called for a business meeting, during which I brought pamphlets like “An AA Group” “Information on AA” and books like “The AA Service Manual.” I had marked these with markers to underline the important points.

A debate occurred and no decision was made.  The group was divided.  Our chairperson continued to chair for 3 weeks; the debate continued.  At the end of the month, we were asked for a volunteer to chair the meeting for the next month.  An old timer raised his hand.  The following week she shared her experience, strength, and hope in dealing with her alcoholism.  We were an AA group again.

Tradition Four deals with a group’s right to be wrong.  Bill W. wrote about it in “The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions.” Tradition 4 contains AA’s only rule; Rule #62: “Don’t take yourself too damn seriously!”

For a good read, a dose of AA history, and the rest of the story behind Rule #62, check out Tradition Four from the 12×12.

-Ron K.

Step Four Myth Buster

Myth #1 “Writing a 4th step takes a Long Time.”

I began my first 4th step with gusto, and then proceeded to ignore it for 3 months.  Whenever someone would ask what step I was on I would tell them step 4 and then make a very sincere face implying, “And you know how hard that is.” I was trying to make a marriage work that had been severely damaged by my alcoholism.  I was a mother to a 3 year old little spitfire.  I complained of that anxiety we suffer from early in sobriety.  Deep down I knew the truth, I wasn’t really writing my 4th step.  When that situation became painful enough, I committed to writing for at least 20 minutes every morning, and it was done in 10 days.

Myth #2 “I already know what it’s gonna say anyway.”

The Big Book says writing an inventory is a fact finding and a fact facing process.  This means I actually don’t know what it is going to say before I write it.  It is an effort to discover the truth.  When I wrote about my sister who is a heroin addict, I thought I knew exactly where she was wrong.  It’s not hard to find fault in a junkie.  However by the end, I was writing with teary eyes, because I realized I was guilty of the same stuff I had condemned her for.  She approached me with her dark sunglasses and slurring words.  I greeted her with arms folded across my chest and the word “No” at the tip of my tongue, just waiting for her to ask me for money.  I was scared of her and she was scared of me.  Had I not asked myself, “Where am I selfish, dishonest or afraid?” I would have continued to shut her out, believing it was all her fault.

Myth #3 “I am entitled to postpone writing my 4th step because I am too fragile to look at that stuff right now.”

I don’t know where this attitude comes from.  Because I was serious about recovery, it was not enough for me to sit in meetings and ride the fellowship wave.  I was motivated to take the steps because I was fragile, because my reality was nearly unbearable.  We do each other a disservice when we cottle one another.  Our unity comes from faith in a common solution.  On page 64 directly after the third step prayer it says, “Though our decision was a vital and crucial step, it could have little permanent effect unless at once followed by a strenuous effort to face and to be rid of, the things in ourselves which had been blocking us.”

-Sarah K

The Twelve Traditions A Distillation of A.A. Experience (excerpt)

As newcomers, many of us say to ourselves, “Let the group officers worry about the Traditions. I’m just an average member. They’re rules for running groups, aren’t they? And everybody tells me, ‘There are no rules in A.A.’!” Then we look closer—and find that the Traditions are not rules—and they are not just for officers. They have deep meaning for each one of us, as the Twelve Steps do. Like the Steps, the Traditions were not figured out in advance, as courses of action against future problems. The action came first. Pioneer A.A. groups, with nothing to go on except the trial-and-error-and-try-again method, soon discovered: “Well, that way didn’t work. But the other one did. And this one works even better!” Both successes and failures were reported in letters to A.A. headquarters (eventually to become the General Service Office). In went these shared experiences of A.A.’s first ten years, and out came the Twelve Traditions. In 1946, then in the “long form,” they were published in the A.A. Grapevine. By 1950, they had been condensed to their present form and were adopted by A.A.’s First International Convention. “Our Traditions are a guide to better ways of working and living,” co-founder Bill W. said. “And they are to group survival what A.A.’s Twelve Steps are to each member’s sobriety and peace of mind…. Most individuals cannot recover unless there is a group. The group must survive or the individual will not.”…

http://www.aa.org/assets/en_US/aa-literature/p-43-the-twelve-traditions-illustrated

Copyright © Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

(Excerpts) Published in 1941, this marks a high light in A.A. history. It sparked the first great surge of interest in A.A.

THREE MEN sat around the bed of an alcoholic patient in the psychopathic ward of Philadelphia General Hospital one afternoon a few weeks ago. The man in the bed, who was a complete stranger to them, had the drawn and slightly stupid look the inebriates get while being defogged after a bender. The only thing that was noteworthy about the callers, except for the obvious contrast between their well-groomed appearances and that of the patient, was the fact that each had been through the defogging process many times himself. They were members of Alcoholics Anonymous, a band of ex-problem drinkers who make an avocation of helping other alcoholics to beat the liquor habit.

THEY MADE it plain that if he actually wanted to stop drinking, they would leave their work or get up in the middle of the night to hurry to where he was. If he did not choose to call, that would be the end of it. The members of Alcoholics Anonymous do not pursue or coddle a malingering prospect, and they know the strange tricks of the alcoholic as a reformed swindler knows the art of bamboozling.

THERE IS no specious excuse for drinking which the troubleshooters of Alcoholics Anonymous have not heard or used themselves. When one of their prospects hands them a rationalization for getting soused, they match it with a half a dozen out of their own experience. This upsets him a little, and he gets defensive. He looks at their neat clothing and smoothly shaved faces and charges them with being goody-goodies who don’t know what it is to struggle with drink. They reply by relating their own stories: the double Scotches and brandies before breakfast; the vague feeling of discomfort which precedes a drinking bout; the awakening from a spree without being able to account for the actions of several days and the haunting fear that possibly they had run down someone with their automobiles.

MANY DOCTORS and staffs of institutions throughout the country now suggest Alcoholics Anonymous to their drinking patients. In some towns, the courts and probation officers cooperate with the local group. In a few city psychopathic divisions, the workers of Alcoholics Anonymous are accorded the same visiting privileges as staff members. Philadelphia General is one of these. Dr. John F. Stouffer, the chief psychiatrist, says: “the alcoholics we get here are mostly those who cannot afford private treatment, and this is by far the greatest thing we have ever been able to offer them. Even among those who occasionally land back in here again, we observe a profound change in personality. You would hardly recognize them” cont…

Copyright © Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

http://www.aa.org/assets/en_US/aa-literature/p-12-the-jack-alexander-article-about-aa