Those who do not recover….are people who are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty….. There are those too who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders, but many of them do recover, if they have the capacity to be honest.
The Big Book of AA,
Chapter V: `How It Works´.
Treat those who are good with goodness, and also treat those who are not good with goodness. Thus, goodness is attained. Be honest to those who are honest, and be also honest to those who are not honest. Thus, honesty is attained.
Lao Tzu
I think the number one thing that I find important is honesty with your friends and your parents, if you can be. But I think that telling people how you really feel, being who you truly are, being safe and taking care of yourself is the most important thing.
Emma Stone
The road to my recovery after twenty-six years of drinking and drugging began when, in the face of pitiful and incomprehensible demoralisation, I admitted defeat and asked for help. I found it in a fellowship of people who have been assisting each other in addiction recovery over generations, since the nineteen-thirties. At the meetings of these people, the first quote above, from the three pages of `How It Works´ which are customarily read out aloud at the beginning of the meeting, struck terror into me. Every time those particular words were uttered, I wanted to disappear into the woodwork, fearing myself to be one of those who `are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty.´ These three pages also contain the Twelve Steps which are suggested as a spiritual path of recovery.
My severe lack of trust and incapacity for honesty rank among the gravest inevitable consequence of active addiction, especially when sustained over long periods of time. On waking up out of a blackout, for example, I often promised myself that I would `never do this again´, knowing full well, deep down inside, that it was only going to be a matter of time until the next one. There were several hundred in all, so when I crashed and burned, and, against massive inner resistance, asked for help, it became clear to me that a lot of work lay ahead with respect to getting honest; with myself, my Maker, with loved-ones, and with others. Any remnants of my pseudo self confidence were shaken when the following was shared by some old American at one of those early meetings; `Half of my mind is selling bullshit, (dramatic pause) and the other half is buying!´
Such meetings turned out to be the `safe space´ where I could listen and identify, and be and share as I truly was. Taking a lead from the example of my fellows, – all addicted to alcohol and often much more, in terms of substances and behaviours, – I began to set aside layers of armour and the many masks which, in my mind, had appeared necessary to get through life, in order to achieve goals, fulfil desires and guarantee security. It was plain by this time, that the strategy hadn´t worked; not only that, but, in addition to all the stress involved in telling different stories to the various people in my life and trying to contain any damage, should they compare notes, I had lost sight of who I really was, afraid that if all my shortcomings were removed from me, as it says in Step Seven, there would be nothing left. A blank space. Obliteration.
The irony of the fact that obliteration due to intoxication had become a regular occurrence in my life was lost on me; until quitting that is and deciding that it was `recover or die´. Life has a great way of helping us overcome the humps which are so difficult to surmount by mere will power and discipline. In this case it was by means of the gift of desperation, for life had become so lonely deep down inside that the prospect of living like this any longer became unbearable.
As a child I had a strong tendency towards exaggeration, presumably because of the belief that if people saw who I really was, it would not be enough to get the love and attention I so craved (and needed). High tales became the order of the day. This induced feelings of guilt and shame, which were amplified by the doctrine of the Irish Catholic upbringing which was mine. There was no getting away from the uneasiness which is always threaded through the fabric of a fraudulent life. If things went well, they could not be enjoyed because this was surely not deserved; if they went badly, it was clear who was to blame. From my mid teens, it was a downward spiral, with occasional respite brought about by a certain level of intoxication, through which, being an addict, I quickly passed, beyond the tipping point towards loss of control.
In my final years of drinking, I was the only good guy left. Life, my family, society, work, the church, the state, fate; all of these were to blame for my suffering, which, of course, was in no way connected to any actions of mine. I liked to party like many of my peers; `work hard, play hard´ was the mantra of this lifestyle. As is sometimes said in Twelve Step meetings in Ireland; `Denial is not a river in Africa´!
The solution! Those with a track record of experience and success with sobriety, told me to make contracts with myself, and to keep them. No dinking today, just for today. Regular attendance at meetings. To ask someone (who inspired me, i.e., `had what I wanted´) to be my sponsor and to take me through the steps, just as a blind person is led from place to place through the busy city streets by a competent blind dog. A major characteristic of the disease of addiction, they told me, was perception disorder. This is why a blind dog was both necessary and appropriate. Under the care of this person and my fellows, I could slowly recover, discover who I was, and perhaps even achieve lasting serenity as a useful member of society, passing on to others what was so freely given me.
How is this achieved? First by `naming and claiming‘ the problem: I am an alcoholic and life is out of control. Then in relinquishing the stance referred to as `playing God´, I could come to believe that a power beyond my own will power, which had patently failed, could restore me to sanity. It was up to me to create my own image of such a power. I like to think of this as the Great Spirit, which infuses all of creation with life and love, and resides equally in each one of us.
Then the tricky bit; handing over my will (my thinking) and my life (my actions) to this power. Oh boy! Only much later did it become clear to me that both fear and faith ask me to believe in a power which cannot be seen, and that both are self-fulfilling prophesies.
And what does this `handing over´ look like? It comprises a thorough inventory, – a `fact finding and fact facing´ endeavour, whereby I can assess whether the behavioural and thinking patterns developed in childhood, which were important in securing my survival, are still serving me today. Or is the life jacket which saved me from drowning as a five-year-old now causing me to suffocate, slowly killing me? In this process of inventory, fears, resentments, and harms done to self and others are trawled to the surface of the psyche and written down.
In the next step this material is shared in detail with another person, usually a sponsor, to verify its accuracy and as a pattern recognition exercise. In my case, patterns did show up. We all have them, and many are still exercised even though they no longer serve us as they once did. They have become liabilities which must be jettisoned.
When we are willing to relinquish them, we ask that they be taken from us. On a practical note, it can be helpful to practice cultivating behaviours and beliefs which are the opposite of those which have become liabilities. If, as in my case, one of my default modes is stinginess, then it is a good idea to cultivate generosity. The conscious appreciation of the generosity afforded me by friends and strangers in hard times helped me get into this groove.
Then it’s time to make amends, to `clear away the wreckage of the past´, by meeting those who had suffered harm at my hands and owning up to my role in these harms. The best amends, of course, are changed behaviour. We have the rest of our lives to practice and demonstrate.
Besides integrating spot inventories into our daily lives, `and when we were wrong promptly admitting it´, we move on to the penultimate step which encourages quiet time each day with a Higher Power of our own understanding. Now that I have decided to take direction from frequencies higher than those of my ego, I need the tune the dial on my receiver. This quiet time at the beginning of each day allows me to tune in. I can adjust the dial, as needed, as the day progresses.
The final step, Step Twelve, tells me that I will have had a spiritual awakening as a result of the previous eleven steps and encourages me to now go out and carry this message of recovery to those who need it; specifically, to the subset of those who are keen to recover and willing to listen.
Described as a `programme of action´, this approach underlines the truth of the principle that `we can not think our way into a new way of acting; we can only act our way into a new way of thinking´.
Honesty and trust grow as we practice them. When, these days, my inner voice tries to tempt me to take short cuts, pointing out that nobody would know, the response usually comes quickly: `Yes, I hear you, but I would know.´ That’s now what matters most!
