Acceptance

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Any Texaco Man Will Show You

February 14, 2008 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 1 comment

Texaco ManOne of my great, if not my greatest character traits is intelligence. I’m smart, damn it, and I know it. I was also raised in a family, a community and a culture that all place a high value on intelligence, so I feel valuable. Another trait is perseverance. “Quitters never win,” was an oft repeated admonition in the society of my youth. Taken together these are the kind of qualities that governments and industries are built of. There is little that cannot be achieved with intelligence and perseverance. They are qualities to be admired.

In an addict or an alcoholic they can be fatal. Alcoholics and addicts of my description often die rather than embrace the truth; that “we were powerless over alcohol; that our lives had become unmanageable.” To finally and completely admit the truth about me, that I was entirely without ability, influence or control with regard to drugs and alcohol and that as a result of my drinking and using the ordinary tasks of living became impossible to deal with was a pill too bitter to swallow. Me, the one who prided himself on his ability to solve even the most difficult problems, the one who never gave up till the obstacle was overcome or the difficulty mastered, admitting that I had been defeated by such a trivial thing.

I saw other people having wine with dinner, going out for drinks with friends or having a beer on a hot summer day.  I even saw people who occasionally smoked a joint or did a line of coke or crystal meth without anything terrible happening and I couldn’t understand why I was unable to do the same.  I didn’t understand why when I did the same things I saw other people doing I got different results. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to recognize that when you take culturally reinforced personality traits like intelligence and perseverance, a hereditary brain defect and a powerfully addictive substance that the result is someone who has to go pretty far down the scale before they cry “Uncle!”

Ultimately I did surrender.  After I had tried absolutely everything I could think of to try, I did admit complete defeat, and asked for help.  People who understood me and my problem took me to the solution and showed me how to apply a simple set of spiritual principles to my problems.  But I didn’t or couldn’t  ask for help before I had done some pretty outrageous things in an attempt to satisfy the craving and manage the outcome.  I am still paying (dearly) for the consequences of my addiction.  Today my head (my disease) is telling me that the price I am paying is too high, that the world is unfair, that the behavior that placed me in the position I am in is the result of a disease, a brain disorder really, and culturally reinforced ‘virtues’; that I am being punished for being biologically defective, smart and persevering.

That insane idea is as much a part of the problem as anything else, and luckily there is a set of simple instructions that I now try to follow to override it.  Following those instructions can take me from thinking how upset I am that it will be years and years before I get my passport back and go to Italy, to thinking how grateful I am that I get to be useful to the people around me outside of prison walls today.  The problem is still that I don’t always pick up those tools and follow those instructions right away.  I seem to have to reach a certain level of misery before I understand that the only effective solution I have today to the problems that trouble me most is the same solution that they showed me how to apply to my drug and alcohol problem.

What I’m saying is that someone showed me how to apply the solution and yet today I am miserable and unwilling to apply that solution to the thing that is troubling me.  Today I am miserable.  It isn’t something I’m going to drink over.  I may just do some extended pouting.  Hopefully I won’t wallow in this too long.

Any Texaco Man Will Show You, originally uploaded by nyctreeman.

 

The Shadow of Meaning

January 11, 2008 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 12 comments

Language is the blood of the soul into which thoughts run and out of which they grow.
– Oliver Wendell Holmes

This is first pass writing; the whole blog, not just this post. I rarely take any time to edit. These words fall here as fast as I am able to type. Only a little thought ahead of time works it’s way into what comes out and that is usually thought I entertain in meetings or working with another alcoholic/addict. So, it may not be obvious by reading this, but I have a keen love of the English language and I try to bring what I know of it to everything I write and to everything I say. Meaning is important to me.

Therefor, when the story in the book says “acceptance is the answer to all my problems today” I stand in astonishment. I suffer from dishonesty, hopelessness, faithlessness, fear, corruption, stubbornness and pride. I can fully accept something and be powerless to do anything about it. I have always known that the CP was only a pit stop, but on 2 occasions I’ve been near willing to sacrifice the McNuggets they pay me in favor of staying in bed and feeling sorry for myself. It takes a great deal more than acceptance to move out of that. And let’s not forget that the man who wrote that story in the big book later recanted at a world conference. He said if he had to do it over again he would have said that HONESTY is the key to solving all his problems today.

In every problem area of my life acceptance is insufficient. I absolutely needed the principles behind EVERY step, from honesty to service. I needed to treat the issue as I would any other obstacle, by taking it through the steps, on paper, with another person and with God, to be able to do anything about it. All I ever can seem to do about problems like this is pull the covers over my head or get high.

Many people in AA, particularly newcomers, equate acceptance with honesty. I know this because I often hear them contrasting acceptance and denial. It may be useful to look closely at the meaning of those words.

Acceptance noun.

  1. the act of taking or receiving something offered.
  2. favorable reception; approval; favor.
  3. the act of assenting or believing
  4. the fact or state of being accepted or acceptable.

Honesty as:

  1. 1. the quality or fact of being honest; uprightness and fairness.
  2. 2. truthfulness, sincerity, or frankness.
  3. 3. freedom from deceit or fraud.


Now which of those really contrasts with

denial:

  1. an assertion that something said, believed, alleged, etc., is false
  2. the refusal to satisfy a claim, request, desire, etc., or the refusal of a person making it.
  3. refusal to recognize or acknowledge; a disowning or disavowal

People say that accepting something doesn’t mean having to like it, but the very definition is approval and favor. The antonym of deny is not accept, it is admit. To my mind the Acceptance Guy was right to recant. It starts with honesty. Acceptance, as it has come to be used (improperly) in AA, is psycho-babble. It is therapy-speak or Lingua California for the perfectly clear and useful English language word

understanding:

  1. to perceive the meaning of; grasp the idea of; comprehend
  2. to be thoroughly familiar with; apprehend clearly the character, nature, or subtleties of
  3. to assign a meaning to; interpret

My AA book says that:

  • “self-knowledge (or understanding) would not help”
  • “Understanding myself now, I fared forth in high hope. For three or four months the goose hung high. I went to town regularly and even made a little money. Surely this was the answer self- knowledge. But it was not, for the frightful day came when I drank once more.”
  • “Above all, he believed he had acquired such a profound knowledge (understanding) of the inner workings of his mind and its hidden springs that relapse was unthinkable. Nevertheless, he was drunk in a short time. More baffling still, he could give himself no satisfactory explanation for his fall.”

I’m saying that all the clear perception in the world, all of the thorough understanding of the significance and implications of my situation, all of the understanding, or as some have come to say, acceptance, does not have the spiritual force behind it to solve my problems. I have come to believe that the concept of acceptance is slippery. I believe we do newcomers no service by touting acceptance. I believe that brandishing about the word acceptance paves the way to relapse for many who are not introduced to the principles in the steps. The only things that I absolutely have to accept to solve all my problems, meaning to receive favorably, and the only thing the book talks about accepting, in terms of the program of recovery , are the spiritual principles I pick up as I take the steps in the program.

That is all I have to say on the matter and it shall not come up again.

Texaco Labelscar, originally uploaded by Lost Tulsa.

Hooray!

January 10, 2008 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 5 comments

I don’t care what the book says. If it’s not on the first 164 it’s hearsay. Acceptance is absolutely not the key to all my problems today. Honesty, open-mindedness and willingness play a much bigger role. So do humility, courage and perseverance. All of those played a critical role in helping me solve an overwhelmingly difficult problem – specifically my underemployment.

I got a new job today and it will actually pay me enough to live on. It’s something that I have had success at previously. I have a friend in recovery who works there. It’s really close to home (a 15 minute walk or a 5 minute bike ride). And equally important is the fact that while my new job offers no health insurance benefits, I can maintain my health benefits at the Clown Palace with as little as 9 hours per pay period. Totally do-able.

That’s one of the greatest things about a 12 step program. Taking the steps, applying the principles contained in them, has given me a life that, while it’s not perfect (heaven knows) it is totally do-able. The life that a year ago I prayed would end did end, not the way I expected, but it did end. Instead of being replaced by death it was replaced by a life worth living. Today life is totally do-able.

Thank you God!

Texaco – Fall Check-up, originally uploaded by Shannon C..

 

Default Setting

November 25, 2007 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 2 comments

kustomkanopies.jpgIt’s amazing to me, I guess it shouldn’t be at this point in recovery, but it’s amazing to me how quickly I return to my default setting; to return to the way of thinking, if not behavior, that always gets me back to where I came from unless I take purposeful action. Like when I turn on my computer after a power outage, extra stress in it’s many forms, seems to erase the growth I’ve had since the last time the machine was shut off. It is just so easy to fall back on the old way of being. It takes so much conscious effort to keep trudging forward.

Since I became aware of this warrant thing and became spiritually ready to face it I’ve had an extra set of challenges that I didn’t have before it came to my attention. I am finally an employable person but with unresolved warrants out in the world I am afraid to go to work, lest I destroy another job by being hauled out by the police. Lest I lose my home and what few artifacts of civilized living that I have accumulated in the last year after losing everything. A power surge of fear and BOOM! I’m back at my default setting. Fear. Perhaps to a lesser degree than at any point before in my life but fear just the same.

Because of that fear and not being economically productive in that last month my finances have gone completely to hell. Completely. Here are the facts of the situation. Yesterday my phone was shut off for nonpayment. I have $15.74 to my name. I don’t have any idea where the next money is coming from. I have mentioned the situation at meeting level and to my sponsor on a few occasions in the last couple of weeks, trying to be make it more clear that I was asking for help and direction and the bottom got nearer. By yesterday, when my phone got shut off, I hit full tilt panic. I have prayed. Ceaselessly(ish). I have been working with others and getting out of myself (regularly). I have attended meetings regularly – with days free now I’ve added a noon meeting to my regular 5:30 and 8:00 schedule so I average 21+ meetings a week. I have done step work.

My friends point me to the book. My friends remind me that “fear of economic insecurity will leave us.” My friends ask me if there is a roof over my head, if my electricity is on, if I have food. While I can only see the day that those things disappear is nearing they remind me that it isn’t that day today and I need to place my reliance on God. I counter with “how far do I have to let this go before I scream for help?” They smile. “You’re right where you need to be.” “Fuck you, asshole” I smile to myself. I go home and cry.

Coinciding with that stress, I have the unprecedented apparition of Mr. Astonishingly Handsome Tall-Smart flirting with dangerous abandon but from the safe door-to-door distance of 1698 miles. Except for wrestling with a handful of boys who weren’t actually interested in me, I have been alone, and by that I mean not even a date with anyone who might be a potential companion, for 14 years. It hurts. I don’t think I’m ugly. I don’t think I’m stupid. I don’t think I’m ‘too picky’. I don’t even think I’m too broken, not for someone with the right stuff, the stuff a life together is made of. I’m pretty sure I have exactly that stuff lying dormant in me. I can say with some certainty that a major contributing component to my justifying relapse in the past is the absolute hopelessness I feel about ever hearing someone I love breathing beside me; how much I miss kissing a man’s neck as he shaves in the morning, the feeling of an arm around my shoulder pulling me toward him, the sleeping weight of a thigh on top of mine.

Here my default setting splits me apart. Run to and run from but run blindly. I want things from it that are quite real and quite reasonable. Know me. Let me know you. Share. Reason. Some of them are the height of selfishness, the most egregious manifestations of my disease. Save me. Love me no matter what. Make me feel loved. Kill the loneliness. Be the Carpenters/Bacharach/Bayer-Sager/Mitchell song in the soundtrack of my life. You be the Professor and I’ll be Eliza. You be the Doctor and I’ll be Tammy. It all looks the same to me. Be my higher power (small caps – big shoes). Just like the relationships I had in the Dances with Junkies part of my life, I am still ill equipped to discern ‘the true from the false’.

My friends keep reminding me that I’m not going to be successful at this as long as I’m not placing my trust and reliance on G*d. They think I’m not placing my trust and reliance on G*d.

That’s silly. Of course I am. I would have been high already. And that’s the thing about recovery and spiritual growth. The default settings improve over time. Mine have. I know they have. I would have been high already. I’m not where I want to be but I’m closer than I was a year ago. A year ago I would have been high already. Of course I’m placing my trust and reliance on G*d. He is obviously doing for me what I could not do for myself though I would have liked to.

Before the grace of G*d, I would have been high already.

No Guarantees

September 23, 2007 in Living in Recovery by Chris | 2 comments

I was asked by a colleague to answer a few questions about coming to that place of willingness, that turning point, to describe the moment I could see myself and my disease clearly. I’ve been concerned about keeping my ego out of the way so that I can offer authentic answers, answers that reflect the weight and gravity of the experience, in hopes that the story will be useful to someone. I’ve been re-reading my old writing. I rode my bike yesterday to the corner where I finally broke down. I have completely reconnected with the pain and the hopelessness that brought me to my knees; the point where I surrendered to the idea that I was never going to be able to get high without destroying my life and the lives of those around me.

When I had that moment of clarity and was able to see the truth about myself and my disease and finally became willing to ask for and accept spiritual help I was led to the one man perhaps most uniquely qualified to take me to the solution. I knew this man. I trusted him. I could see that he was living a principled life and I knew that there was no earthly way that he could become the man he was in light of the man he had been. A transformation like that requires a greater power. Somewhere I was given the willingness to do a few simple things to follow this man down the path. So far the road has been pretty clear and dry; not too tough a go, even considering the pain I was obviously in during the first 2 months. I’ve been very lucky.

I wrote the other day, though, that there is no guarantee that even under the most favorable conditions I’ll make it to the other side of the desert. My friend pulled me aside last Thursday night to tell me that he’d been drunk the night before; that he hadn’t made it. I responded with detachment, compassion, concern. Obviously I would need to find a new spiritual advisor. Thats fine, I thought. The whole next day I imagined that I hadn’t been too disturbed by the news at all. Friday evening, however, in a small meeting with some close friends, it suddenly occurred to me that someone I love who suffers with the disease of addiction, someone who is hopeless and helpless like me, someone who had put everything he had into grabbing on to and holding on to this thing we call ‘recovery’ — had not made it across the desert. Though my friend seemed, at the moment, to have gotten back on the wagon, to be back in the group and back in the work, one can never know for sure. My own experience has been that one little incident, even followed by rigorous effort to get back, often, perhaps usually, takes one right back to the place I was before I became willing to ask for help. One little slip sends me straight off the highway. I hate crying in public. I did it but I hated doing it. I’m worried for him and I’m worried for myself and I’m heartbroken.

There is not guarantee that we make it to permanent sobriety. Even with a spiritual program many of us miss the mark. After all, we’re only human. And being human, many, if not most of us, will fail at gaining victory over addiction. It is a baffling enemy. We can just do our best, seek guidance from those who have gone before us and trust the Man With the Star.

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