Showing posts with label sanity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sanity. Show all posts

Sep 3, 2013

2nd Step PRINCIPLE: Hope

Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

There are two big, bold pronouncements made in the second step that many alcoholics are reluctant to accept: 1) that God exists; and 2) that alcoholism is a psychological disorder.


Power greater than ourselves
I recognize that the language used in the second step is "a Power greater than ourselves," but let's face it: the program encourages belief in God.  Read on in The Big Book.  In the step three, one is asked to turn one's will and life over to the care of God as he or she understands God.

I wonder if alcoholics, who are working the steps for the first time, ever feel deceived.  I did not, but faith came naturally to me, almost as naturally as did drinking to excess.

To the person who feels rejected by the God with whom he or she was raised, this step offers hope, because AA offers theological freedom.  The God of my understanding may not look or act like yours, and yet the differences in our understandings of God do not prevent us from sitting in meetings together or helping one another to achieve sobriety.


Restored to sanity
Both the person who suffers from alcoholism and I are there for the same reason: to recover from "a seemingly hopeless state of mind and body," which, let's face it, introduces another truth that may be difficult to accept: the second step asserts that alcoholics are sick.

On the one hand, I did not like being told that I was/am insane.  However, wasn't it Albert Einstein who said that doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of "insanity"?  I considered Einstein a genius, even when I sat in the same bar, drinking the same drinks and driving home for years.

On the other hand, there was something comforting in thinking about myself as sick, as opposed to thinking of myself as bad.  Sick people heal.  Bad people are punished, dismissed and forgotten.  Maybe the God of my understanding would act compassionately and remember me.


Exodus life
Inasmuch as alcoholics strive like to think of themselves as unique, ancient wisdom helps me to practice AA's 12 steps.  For example, I am not Jewish, but the story of the Exodus helps me to think about alcoholism.  The Hebrews are slaves in Egypt until Moses leads them out.

One of the titles considered for The Big Book before it became The Big Book was A Way Out.  The big difference between slavery in Egypt and the affliction that the alcoholic suffers is that alcoholic suffering is self-imposed.  However, before I completely understood the nature of alcoholism, I was already lying to myself about how, with more self-discipline, I could manage my drinking.

I had to suffer before I could hear the voices that helped me first to understand the nature of my oppression and then to follow them through a wilderness, up steps and to a place where promises are fulfilled.

  
The assurance of things hoped for
In the Christian Scriptures, faith is defined as "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."  The terms of the things hoped for are set by God, or in AA-speak, the God of one's understanding, who knows the way out of alcoholism.

When I came into the program, I was not sure of much.  This uncertainty did not stop me from being bombastic and making big, bold pronouncements on every subject under the sun, but it did open me to accepting the possibility of being accepted by a God who welcomed alcoholics, all alcoholics, from every station in life from which one wandered into a meeting.

When I attended my first meeting, I was sure that I would be convicted of a DUI, and yet the suggestion that the God of my understanding was with me, even when it felt like this God was not, was comforting as I faced one of the most difficult periods of my life, which, for the most part, is behind me now.


Avoiding real disaster
The Dalai Lama of Tibetan Buddhism assures his followers that, "No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that's our real disaster."

In the final years of my drinking, it was increasingly difficult for me to imagine life getting better.  I sat in the shadow of a mountain of debt, and the wreckage of my past haunted me every day of my life.

It was not until I was arrested for a DUI and felt like I had no choice but to go to AA that life began to seem manageable again.  I knew that it would take time to clean up the mess that I created and that time was one of goals of every person in the program.  At last, the disaster of lost hope was averted, because at last, I was able to stop worrying about an imagined crisis and to start addressing a real one.


The sum of human wisdom
Alexandre Dumas, who is best known for writing The Count of Monte Cristo and The Three Musketeers, writes that all human wisdom is contained in these two words, "Wait and hope."

With jail behind me and a court appearance before me, I was not equipped to do either one, but I did not have a choice.  I had to wait and hope.

At that stage in my sobriety, feeling that I did not have a choice was good for me, because given a choice, I would drink, but after waiting and hoping for a while, I started making better choices, and now that I have made a few of them, I choose to wait and hope and am confident that good things will come from these choices. 

Aug 18, 2013

INTRO: Second Step

By the time that I arrived in AA, it was difficult for me to deny that I was an alcoholic.  The evidence was overwhleming: I was powerless over alcohol; life had become unmanageable.  In addition to the DUI, I was making questionable decisions professionally and personally without fully suffering the consequences of my actions.  I thought that if I were given a chance to succeed, then I would, and the quality of my life would drastically improve.

Obviously, I was in denial---not about being an alcoholic but about related problems.  Alcohol was a problem, but it was not the only one.  I drank to cope with feelings of disappointment and anxiety, and in so doing, created more problems with which I coped with alcohol.  I am not sure which came first: the alcohol or the problems.  It does not matter.  To be well, both have to be addressed.

The first step is about admitting that one is powerless over alcohol, that one cannot drink under any circumstances.  The second step is about trusting: 1) that something more powerful than alcohol exists; 2) that this power is willing to help; and 3) that this help includes restoring the alcoholic to sanity.  

The stumbling blocks in this step are theological and psychological.  Plenty of people in AA arrive with religious baggage.  Bad experiences with religious institutions or people representing them have led to anger, cynicism and fear (which contribute to other problems).  Trust does not come naturally, and yet without help, one has no chance of overcoming a power greater than himself or herself, like alcohol.  Self-sufficiency is self-defeating.  In the end, the second step is about asking for help whether this help comes from God, a group or one of its members.

The problems that I was looking solve when I came into the program were practical ones.  I wanted to stop drinking.  I wanted to be sure that I was gainfully employed and that my family was intact.  I wanted to feel better about myself and the direction in which my life was headed.  I was tired of spiraling downward.

The suggestion that I was insane offended me.  I had baggage with religious institutions, but even in the depth of my illness, I believed in God.  I prayed.  I read self-help books and met with therapists (whose access to the truth was distorted by my twisted version of it).  Surely, I was not insane, as AA suggests that I am, and yet given the number of times that I drank and expected different results, I came to believe that I was.

As I sobered up, I began to see the past more clearly.  I remembered embarrassing stories.  I wondered what I was thinking when I made some of these decisions that I regretted, and I questioned whether my judgment was better than anybody else's.  I started asking for help, and in so doing, acknowledged that I did not know everything, that I had more than one problem.  I began thinking of myself more as a sick person than as a bad person, and the quality of my life---and my problems---began to improve.  A power greater than myself was beginning to work in my life.  I was being humbled in the process, and humility sets the stage for gratitude.