We Are Not Saints

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We Are Not Saints Page 13

by David M


  The third level of service, as I see it, has nothing to do with recruitment. Yes, I want to be there for anyone who needs help, but only if they ask for it. It’s only after someone admits they need help, and is willing to ask for it, that this program will work anyway.

  The third level of service is the manner in which we treat the people we encounter in our daily lives. It is our work ethic, our compassion for others, our honesty and tact, our integrity and our moral code.

  Many normal people call this the golden rule but that rule didn’t work for me, and I suspect it doesn’t work for many alcoholics in early recovery. The problem is that I couldn’t treat others the way I wanted to be treated, because I didn’t know. I knew how I thought I deserved to be treated, but that wouldn’t endear me to anyone. I also thought the world was against me and I should be given everything while offering nothing in return. I don’t think this was the intention of the golden rule either.

  I had no Idea how I should want to be treated, and therefore I had no Idea how I should treat anyone else. Every decision I had made in my adult life had been influenced by my disease. It’s was the basis for my choice of friends, lovers, jobs and even dwellings. Yes, I chose apartments based on their proximity to bars.

  I also treated everyone, including friends, lovers, employers and landlords, how I thought I should in order to garner acceptance of my drinking habits. There was no way, as an alcoholic in early recovery, I could translate this into the golden rule. This is why I needed a sponsor.

  Chapter 23:

  There were several things I was told I should look for in a sponsor, and several other attributes I came up with on my own. I was told to find someone who had a few years sober, and to be sure they had a sponsor of their own. I could see the value in both of these recommendations.

  I was also told to make sure to choose someone who had worked the steps. Again, this seemed like pretty good advice. And I was told to listen to people share at meetings, and to choose someone with whom I could identify. Above all, I could not choose a woman as a sponsor. Men sponsor men and women sponsor women. Fair enough.

  There were a few other things I decided were important to me, though I kept them to myself for fear of ridicule. I wanted a sponsor who was successful. I wasn’t looking for the richest person in the room, but I wanted someone who had achieved an age appropriate level of success. This is something I had never been able to accomplish.

  I was looking for someone who could qualify for a car loan. It was important to me that they had a decent job and owned a home. It didn’t need to be a mansion, but a nice, neat house was a must. I also wanted to find someone who was married, or at least in a committed relationship. Most of my previous relationships ended with one or both of us nearly being committed.

  I also thought it would be nice if I had a sponsor who was a responsible pet owner. How someone treats their friends and family is one thing, but I’ve always believed you can tell what’s in a person’s heart by how they treat their pets.

  These things all sound pretty run-of-the-mill to most people, but to me they were the Holy Grail, and they had eluded me my entire life. I didn’t just want to be sober; I wanted to be normal, or at least as normal as I could be.

  In chapter 5 of the book Alcoholics Anonymous it says, “If you have decided you want what we have, and are willing to go to any lengths to get it, then you are ready to take certain steps.”

  These are the things I wanted, and I felt alcoholism had robbed me of them. I couldn’t start over, pay attention in high school, go to college, start a career, fall in love and start a family, buy a home and be successful at age 30. That birthday had come and gone. But I wasn’t dead yet. I still had a lot of tread left on the tires, and I was determined not to piss away the rest of my life. I wasn’t just looking for a sponsor; I wanted a role model.

  I had heard it said many times in meetings that a sponsor is not your lawyer, your accountant, your doctor or your marriage counselor. Your sponsor is the person who guides you through the 12 steps and shows you how to lead a sober life. I made up my mind that a sober life shouldn’t involve living under a bridge or eating out of dumpsters, so I looked for a sponsor who had what I wanted.

  The first person I asked to sponsor me said no. He only sponsored a handful of people at a time, and I would have put him over his limit. He did recommend someone though, and they said yes.

  I really liked my first sponsor. He was a nice guy. In fact, he may have been a little too nice for my needs. Looking back now, I think I needed someone who would put a boot in my ass from time to time.

  I remember one phone call with my first sponsor in particular. I had been out aimlessly driving around when I decided to stop at my old bar, the previous center of my universe, and grab a bite to eat. I thought it would make me feel better to show everyone how well I was doing now that I had a few weeks sober.

  As I was sitting at the bar trying to figure out what to order, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it was my sponsor. Um…shit. I answered the phone and did my best to sound like nothing was amiss. I don’t think he bought it.

  “Hey, how’s it going,” I asked.

  “Good. I just called to see what you were up to,” he said.

  “Oh, not much, just having lunch,” I replied.

  “Are you at home,” he asked.

  “Well, no,” I said. “I went out for lunch”

  “”Oh yeah,” he replied, “where at?”

  “I’m out by the turnpike.”

  “No kidding,” he said. “I’m in the area. What’s the name of the place? Maybe I’ll stop in.”

  Well, shit. This wasn’t going well. I mean seriously, what are the odds that the first time I walk through the doors of a bar in weeks, my sponsor would call.

  “I’m at the bar,” I said. “I’m not drinking. I just stopped in for lunch and to say hello to some friends.”

  He thought about this for a few seconds, and then gave me a very well thought out, succinct and tactful reply. “I would be remiss,” he said, “if I didn’t tell you I think that’s a bad idea.”

  This was a great answer, and I know he was absolutely correct. I don’t think anyone would have faulted him for the way he handled the situation. I certainly didn’t. But I think I had grown a little thicker in the head over the years, and this type of tact was lost on me. I think what I really needed to be told was something like this:

  “YOU’RE WHERE? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN A BAR? PICK YOUR DUMB ASS UP OFF OF THAT BARSTOOL RIGHT NOW…I DON’T GIVE A FUCK IF YOU JUST ORDERED FOOD, FUCK YOUR FOOD…MARCH YOR ASS OUTSIDE; GET ON YOUR MOTORCYCLE, AND GO TO A MEETING. NOW…AND DON’T FORGET TO TIP THE BARTENDER BEFORE YOU LEAVE.”

  This is where my new sponsor came in. He was never in the Army, but he would have done a hell of a job. He doesn’t dress anything up. He tells me exactly what I needed to hear. It isn’t always what I want to hear, but it’s exactly what I need to here. He’s also good at saying no.

  Me: I’m tired. I think I should just stay home tonight.

  Him: No. Get your ass to a meeting.

  Me: Maybe we should wait to do the 4th step.

  Him: No. You need to stop putting it off.

  Me: It’s my old bartender’s birthday. Can I go to the party?

  Him: No dumb ass, stay out of the bar.

  Me: Can I just go to shoot pool?

  Him: No. Go to a pool hall.

  Me: She’s hot! Should I get her phone number?

  Him: No. You need a girlfriend right now like you need another hole in your head.

  Me: Well, what about a hooker? It’s not a relationship if you’re paying for it.

  Him: Not just no, but hell no!

  Damn he’s good at saying no, but he’s exactly what I needed in early sobriety. My first sponsor and are still good friends. But I needed someone to kick my tail on a daily basis, and this is the guy for the job. Don’t get me wrong, my sponsor is a great guy. He’s not an ass
hole by any stretch of the imagination. But he won’t take my shit even for a minute, and that’s what I needed.

  Many alcoholics get through life by either lying outright, or at the very least telling people what they want to hear. I was no exception. A good sponsor is someone who has been there, and told the same lies you have. They can spot bullshit a mile away and aren’t afraid to call you on it.

  The first thing I was told by both sponsors was to call them every day. I hate calling people, even with good news. I just don’t like the phone. Getting accustomed to calling every day is extremely important though for much the same reason drills are important in the Army. It teaches you to do something without even thinking about it.

  Now, whenever I find myself in a bad place mentally or emotionally, I call my sponsor without even thinking about it. It’s not because he always has a magical solution to my problem, but because it gives me time to calm down, reflect and sometimes vent. This has saved me from a drink on numerous occasions.

  In addition to my sponsor, I have built up a fantastic support group and network of friends. I have found it to be extremely important for me to stay connected each and every day. I chat with friends in the program on the computer or the phone every day. I see them at meetings, have dinner with them on Friday nights and breakfast on Sunday mornings. Some of us ride motorcycles together, get together for football games, go to each other’s houses for cookouts or just hang out.

  It seems to me that the more time I spend with my friends in the program, the stronger I am in my sobriety. On the rare occasion that I go even a few days without talking to anyone in my support group, bad ideas start to creep their way into my head. It’s only by airing my thoughts to people I trust that I get the feedback and direction I need to survive.

  As time goes on, I have less and less of a problem abstaining from alcohol. The thought rarely even enters my mind anymore. The problem I have today, and will probably have for the rest of my life, is my thinking. I just don’t think like a normal person; I think like an alcoholic. I need to vet my thoughts with the group. There truly is safety in numbers.

  Chapter 24:

  The twelve steps of alcoholics anonymous are truly the centerpiece of the program. The big book showed me who I am, and that there is a solution to my problem. The meetings help keep me sober and connect me to others in the program. But the steps are what make life in sobriety worth living. Without them I would be nothing more than a dry drunk.

  It was paramount that I had a sponsor to guide me through the steps. Otherwise, I would have cherry picked. That is to say I would have skipped the steps, or portions of the steps, that made me uncomfortable. What I have found is that the more reluctant I am to do a step, the more important that step is to my recovery.

  Admitting that I am an alcoholic and that my life is unmanageable was the obvious place to start. I had to go well beyond simply saying it though. It’s not as hard as you might think to raise your hand in a meeting and say, “Hi, I’m Dave and I’m an alcoholic,” especially after you’ve heard a hundred other people do it. At this point I would have admitted to being a platypus if I thought it would help.

  The hard part was finding it in me to really believe it. I think this is why they say every alcoholic has to hit bottom before the program will work for them. Some people’s bottoms come after one too many blackouts, or an embarrassing company party. Some hit bottom living on the streets while others hit bottom in million-dollar homes. I hit bottom while parked uncomfortably close to a telephone pole.

  I can clearly recall sitting on what was left of my car, thankful that my best friend was alive, and thinking that my life needed to change. I had considered myself a functional alcoholic for a long time, but at that moment I realized it had all been a delusion. I was anything but functional.

  Step two is coming to believe that a power greater than ourselves can restore us to sanity. Unlike some of the other steps, this revelation must come in its own time. Going to meetings and hearing the stories of those who have recovered is one way alcoholics come to believe. My revelation came while reading the big book for the first time. It is my greatest hope that this book may help someone in their second step.

  The third step is turning your will and your life over to the care of the God as you understand him (or her). This does not mean sitting on your ass and waiting for God to cure you. It doesn’t work that way. It means doing the work, and trusting God with the outcome. I was told many times as a child that God helps those who help themselves. Nowhere have I found this to be truer than in Alcoholics Anonymous.

  Steps four through seven are about dealing with our resentments and character defects. This is where I needed the most help. I came into the program believing that my life was unmanageable because I drank, and I thought if I quit drinking all of my problems would be solved. It had never occurred to me that I was flawed at my core.

  When I wrote out my fourth step for the first time I made sure only to list the resentments I could justify, or that I at least thought I could justify. For example, I complained about my ex-wife spending all of my money while I was in Iraq. Surely my sponsor couldn’t blame that on me.

  But as we got down to the root of the problem, I began to see the value in the step. I had been unable to manage my own life so I chose a wife who drank like I did. Then I turned all my problems over to her. If everything went well I could claim that she was simply doing what I told her to do. If everything went poorly, which it did, I would have someone else to blame it on.

  Nearly every one of the justifiable resentments I had listed turned out to be self-inflicted. I suddenly thought back to all the times in my life I had been told, “You blame everybody but yourself,” or “you have no one to blame but yourself,” but I could never see it. I honestly couldn’t. I had spent the majority of my life blaming other people for my failures, but it took a sponsor and the steps to show me the truth.

  It’s been said that the truth will set you free. What they don’t tell you is that it will royally fuck you up first. For the first time in my life I knew in my heart of hearts that the way my life had turned out was entirely my fault. If I couldn’t find or keep a job, it was my fault. If I was broke, it was my fault. If I got arrested or found myself trapped in a bad relationship, it was my fault. I could no longer blame anyone else, and that sucked.

  I look back in amazement now that I couldn’t see what was so clear to everyone around me. I guess that’s the nature of insanity. I’m far from cured, but I know what to look for now and I know to give it serious consideration when my sponsor or friends point out old behavior. I’ve done several fourth steps, and will do many more.

  I think the eighth step was the hardest step for me. I was usually a very happy drunk, but a little twisted. I’ve also always had my own sense of morality. For example, retribution always seemed justified to me. I’ve always been, and sometimes still am, a vindictive bastard. It took a lot to piss me off, but once you did there was no redemption. I guess you could say my shit-list was short but distinguished.

  The first time I tried to come up with a list of people I had harmed, I could only think of a few people. After all, if I had harmed someone intentionally it must have been because they deserved it. Therefore, I reasoned, they didn’t belong on the list. As with much of my thinking, I later found this philosophy to be flawed. In other words, my sponsor pointed out the error in my reasoning.

  While delving into the people I had mistreated in my past, intentionally or not, my sponsor and I began to see patterns forming. Before long it became apparent that many of my actions were not justified, and in many cases they were not even legal. Much like the forth step, I was slowly uncovering a serious problem…me.

  It’s an interesting phenomenon that many alcoholics, myself included, spend their lives being told by their families, doctors, police, employers and judges that they have a problem, but it’s not until they hear it from another alcoholic that they actually begin to get it. It takes a pers
on with no authority, special skills or degree to say, “I understand how you feel. I felt the same way, but I was wrong and so are you. Now, here’s how we fix it.”

  Steps eight and nine meant something else to me. They meant I had to start paying back debts, paying bills and addressing issues most people take for granted. This required putting together a list of institutions I owed money, and trying my best to pay everyday expenses on time.

  I had always paid bills when it was convenient for me, or when it wouldn’t interfere with my drinking. I would often find myself in a situation where I was a few dollars short for rent or another bill, but I would look at the bright side. If I had enough money I would have had to pay the rent or the bill, and then I would be broke. But since I was short a few dollars and couldn’t pay; all that money became drinking money. The way I saw it, the bill wasn’t getting paid anyway; I might as well get drunk. I didn’t consider myself an alcoholic though; I considered myself an optimist.

  Other things like paying fines, having car insurance or saving money were also alien to me. Hell, I didn’t even have a motorcycle license until I was forty-two years old and in the program for over two years, and I had been riding since I was fifteen. I was not what you would call a model citizen. This was something I wanted to change. It didn’t happen overnight, and I’m still working on it to this day.

  The tenth step is taking a personal inventory every day, identifying where we went wrong and taking steps to correct our behavior. I didn’t realize it at first, but I was doing this by calling my sponsor every night and when I needed his help with a situation. We would often do a mini-forth step, figure out what my part was in a situation and make a plan to make amends for my actions.

  I don’t know when it happened, but this eventually became part of my daily life. If I found myself engaged is a conflict with another person, or in some other uncomfortable position, I would take a step back and consider how I had contributed to the situation in a negative way. Then I would take steps to set things right again. This would often involve discussing the situation with my sponsor or someone else in the program.

 

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