At the end there was a plastic bottle of vodka in the bottom of my briefcase, another one in the basement, one in my desk drawer at work, and probably one in the trunk of the car. So – yeah, I had a drinking problem. But if you’re reading this, you probably did too, so I’ll spare you further details. Suffice it to say, I finally hit bottom.
My first AA Meeting was memorable. A woman in her 30s explained that she had been physically and sexually abused as a child, found some escape in booze and drugs, became an alcoholic and a drug addict, got caught up in some very evil doings, and went to jail. There she was introduced to AA, started down the road to sobriety, and was about to receive her college degree in sociology. She had a job waiting for her – she was going to counsel children of abuse. Wow, I thought. What a turnaround! If there’s hope for her, maybe there’s hope for me, and HOPE was not something I had at the time.
So began my journey. I immediately found out, much to my amazement, that in the little town in Massachusetts that I had lived in for 15 years, there were two or three AA Meetings every day. I started going to several meetings a week and, frankly, loved the stuff that I was hearing. God then arranged for the company I had worked for 15 years to get bought and for the new Owners to move their own folks into a number of the jobs in our office, including mine. When I shared the news of this pending “disaster” with my new AA friends, they told me not to worry because God had a plan. They also counseled me to act like an adult (what a concept!?!) and offered to help the new managers in any way I could. Following this advice led to the new managers offering me a consulting arrangement that paid me pretty well for the next three years and allowed me to go to a LOT of meetings and spend a LOT of time working the AA program.
I recently got a medallion marking 22 years since my last drink.
How did that happen? Grace of God, to be sure. A lot of help from a lot of people in AA and a lot of work as well. These days I am bemused when I hear the “Big Book Thumpers” and the “Service is Salvation” and the “Meeting Makers Make It” crowds arguing with each other over which aspect of AA is most important, because I know that, sick as I was, I needed each and every aspect of AA! I needed the Big Book.
I needed each and every different type of meeting (BB, 12&12, Speaker, As Bill Sees It, Living Sober). I needed the Daily Reflections. I needed Rosary beads (yeah, I know that’s not AA, but I needed Rosary beads, too). I needed the laughter that I shared before, during, and after meetings and whenever I was with another alcoholic. I needed the friendships that I formed with other alcoholics. And I needed to hear about how experienced AA members dealt with the personal triumphs and tragedies that are part of each of our lives. I needed to have a Sponsor, and I needed to do what he told me to do. Even if…no especially when…I did not understand why he was telling to do it. I needed Ice Cream, lots of Ice Cream – the kind you have with a group of guys who were all trying to get sober, and who were not afraid to tell me I was off the beam when I was off the beam.
I needed to do the Steps with my Sponsor (more than once and to the best of my ability at the time). I needed to be a Sponsor, because it taught me how much easier it was for me to see how character defects hurt my sponsees and those around them than it was for me to see how harmful my own character defects were (are). I needed to go to State Conventions with my wife and with friends in AA so I could hear great speakers with great messages, and so I could buy speaker tapes that I could listen to in the car when I was driving. I needed to play golf with guys in AA. I needed to be told that when I prayed, I should MEAN it. I needed to celebrate New Year’s with other families in AA. I needed to take an AA meeting into a residential recovery facility. Oh, and I needed lots of patience and encouragement: like when I cried to my Sponsor (two years into my sobriety) that I had made up yet another story – told yet another lie – and wondered aloud whether I was “constitutionally incapable of being honest”. He wisely explained to me that, yes, I had lied, but I was making progress. “Progress!?!” I screamed, “How can you say I am making progress?” “Simple”, he replied, “When you came in here, you lied and didn’t even realize you were lying; when you came in, you lied and it didn’t even bother you. Now when you lie, you realize that you’re lying, AND it bothers you! That’s progress!” I really needed to hear stuff like that, too.
Now, after 22 years, I still need it all. I also WANT it all. Now, during the moment of silence before the Serenity Prayer, I ask God to help me pay attention to whoever is speaking so that I might hear something today that will help me be a better man today and stay sober tomorrow.
-Rick B.