By Anne M.
I’ve been lucky. After many years of trying and failing to get sober, I have been able by the grace of God to not pick up a drink for many years now. I attribute it to many things: good sponsorship, the fellowship of the rooms, the twelve steps of recovery and just plain growing up.
It was way past the optimal time to stop chasing the thrill – in fact all of them: the various rushes of overspending, overeating, over-caffeinating, sounding off, not showing up, pulling one over on; going around instead of through, etc., etc. As my sponsor’s father said to her, “What is it about moderation that you don’t get?”
Obviously not an alcoholic or he wouldn’t have to ask.
Getting sober is akin to slamming the brakes on a station wagon full of stuff; stuff from childhood, stuff from adulthood, stuff from work, stuff from relationships. Because none of it was ever processed, but instead thrown in the back, it rattled around there occasionally making itself vaguely noticed, but manageable where it was.
Back of the head
Then what happens is, we get sober. We stop drinking and the all the stuff comes flying forward at 60 MPH and hits us in the back of the head. They are only emotions, if you look at them reasonably, which is impossible, and they don’t stop coming for quite some time. It’s amazing a brain can even hang onto this stuff, but for me it was waiting in excruciating detail. The things I’d said; the things I did … the things I didn’t say, the things I didn’t do. I remember one Christmas Eve, far from home, I realized I hadn’t started my Christmas shopping yet. That was how I lived.
My early sponsors did nothing more than listen to me and offer reasonable advice; I was so far from sane it sounded inspired. I couldn’t conceive of how my sponsor had gone TWO YEARS without drinking but I knew that meant she knew everything.
Fellowship covered everything from how to get through an evening, to how to get through the holidays, all without drinking. The first annual cycle of holidays, birthdays, weddings, football games and more without drinking didn’t seem within the realm of possibility and yet it was. And is.
Peace of mind is inevitable
Step work is my default. Whenever I seem to be off the beam I turn to the steps. I think all the wisdom of the life is contained within their simple logic. Adhere to the steps, which become ever deeper with each passing year, and peace of mind and true happiness become not only possible but inevitable.
Growing up has been hardest of all. I have heard that our liabilities or character defects are often what helped us survive until we got to the rooms. How difficult then to put them aside though they now stunt our growth like a too-small shoe. The dishonesty, the procrastination, the anger, the gossip barbed with subtle superiority. Like the bottle, they were once friends; but no more.
Now and then I look longingly back at my carefree days before drinking got bad; we had some fun, we surely did. How different it might be if it had stayed consequence free. But it did not, and the time came to put away childish and ultimately very destructive things. So I did and do and turn each day over to a higher power I don’t understand and don’t feel the need to. Life is good. The view from here is excellent and getting better each and every day.
