Shares

The SoberLady does a lot of her 12 Step work over the Internet. In the process she often finds shares from fellow program members which touch her heart, mind and soul. She will post some of them here for you to read. (Some of them are her own). She hopes you will enjoy them as much as she did.

HIS CONSCIENCE
It was the only part of him that was soluble in alcohol.

How was I to know that I was an alcoholic?  No one ever told me that I was or even hinted that I had passed the point of no return.

Some years ago my thinking was that alcoholics just did not live in my world.  Yes, I had seen them on my infrequent visits to the seamy side of town.  I had been panhandled by them in almost every city in Canada.  In my estimation an alcoholic was a down-and-out, a badly dressed bum who much preferred drinking to working.

If I had been asked I would have said that I did not even know an alcoholic.  As for being one, it was the very farthest thing from my mind.  I would have bitterly resented any such suggestion.  Besides, I thought that any alcoholic was a misfit with a mental quirk of some kind.  It was my opinion that they were all introverts and on tests I had twice been classified as an extrovert.

Certainly I did not know that alcoholism was an illness.  Furthermore, I had no idea that it was a progressive illness. I come from a family of five children and I had a very happy childhood in a small Canadian town.  Both my mother and father were religious, without over emphasizing it.  In due time, I went through grade and high school and entered college as a little better than average student.

The First War had broken out before I got around to taking my first drink.  I joined the Army fairly early in that war. Oddly enough, I drank very little while in the service for the very good reason that every time I took a drink something disagreeable happened to me. My first drink was scotch undiluted.  It put me temporarily out of business through strangulation.  The second drink made me sick at my stomach.  After the third trial I went to sleep in the summer sun and was painfully sun burned.  In France I gave away my rum ration far more often that I drank it.

With the War half over I was sent back to Canada for my discharge from wounds and shock.  During the period of waiting for my final papers, along with friends, I spent a good deal of time in a neighboring speakeasy enjoying a few social drinks.

Out of the Army, my drinking dropped away to a drink or two on very special occasions, two or three times a year.  So it went for the next ten years, no pattern, no problem.

Toward the end of the twenties the company by which I was employed went through a merger.  I was given a more responsible position which entailed a great deal of traveling from Coast to Coast.  I found that a few drinks with agreeable companions, in sleeping cars or hotels, helped while away the time. Frankly, I preferred the company of those who took a drink or two to those who did not.

For the next few years I had a lot of fun with alcohol.  I liked the taste of it; I liked the effect of it.  I conducted myself properly and no harm came of it.  Without realizing it, I came to look forward to several drinks before dinner and then to some during the evening.  I gradually developed into a heavy drinker with the result that I didn't feel so well in the mornings.

I would like to make it clear at this point that neither business pressure nor added responsibility had anything to do with my drinking.  I had the capacity for handling business without any fear of criticism.  I enjoyed the companionship of drinking friends, but I began to notice that there was this difference between us; they were still satisfied with one or two drinks, but alcohol was having a different effect on me.  My system seemed to need more alcohol than theirs.  In retrospect, my only conclusion is that at that time I was becoming more physically sensitive to and losing my tolerance for alcohol. But obviously my illness was progressing because it wasn't very long until I started experiencing blackouts.  There were times when I would lose my car.  At this distance it seems funny, but in those days it was a serious business.  With some serious drinking in mind, I would take great care to park my car in some inconspicuous place, some distance from where I intended to do this drinking.  After several hours, I would return only to find that it wasn't there.  At least it wasn't where I thought I had left it.  Then I would start walking up blocks one way and down blocks the other way until I would finally locate it, usually in an entirely different direction than where I was sure I had parked it.  On these occasions, I would always end up with a feeling of remorse not far removed from a loathing of myself and the condition I was in.  And, of course, I was always terribly afraid of being seen by someone who knew me.

It wasn't long until traveling even by train became a hazard.  I could somehow manage to catch a train, but all to often it was not the train which I intended to catch.  Sometimes it would be going in the wrong direction, and I would end up in a town or city where I had no intention of being and, therefore, had no business to transact.

Having blackouts also meant that I couldn't clearly remember all of what had transpired the night before, and then it was only a short step to not being able to remember any of it.  This became very embarrassing to me.  I began to avoid discussing the happenings of the night before.  In fact, I no longer wanted to talk about my drinking.  I took to drinking alone.

Up to this point, my rise in the business world had been steady.  I had become vice-president of the Canadian end of a large company known the world over.  Now I found myself delaying making decisions, putting off appointments because my eyes were blood-shot and I didn't feel so well.  It was difficult for me to concentrate and even to follow closely a business conversation.

Time and time again I went on the wagon; I said I was through with drink, and at the time actually meant what I said.  The end result was always the same.  Sooner or later, I started in all over again and binges came closer and closer together.

From time to time friends and relatives spoke to me about my drinking. My wife and family asked me to control it, to pull myself together, to use my will power, to drink like a gentlemen.  I made dozens of promises and at the time of making them, I sincerely meant to keep every one.  I became two different people, one person when I was sober and an entirely different one when I was drinking. I discovered the morning drink and soon it took two, three or four to straighten me out.  I had the shakes so badly that shaving became a task that I feared and dreaded because my hand was so unsteady.  I discovered that the shakes came only when I allowed the alcoholic content of my system to drop too low.  All too often when I brought it up with stiff jolts, I went into a blackout.  Striking an even balance seemed beyond my power.

I will never forget the first time I became conscious of that over-powering compulsion.  No matter what happened-I simply had to have a drink.  This compulsion soon became part of my make-up. One Monday morning when the compulsion was on me, I met an old drinking friend.  Our meeting was generally the signal for a bender of some proportions.  I always thought that he was the one who should watch his drinking habits-not me.  On this particular morning, he was clear-eyed and sober, truly a minor miracle for Monday.  He looked well and he looked happy. He said he felt fine and that he had stopped drinking.  I asked him whether he had got religion.  He said no, but that he had joined A.A. That was the first time I had ever heard of such an organization.  Since he couldn't produce a drink, I went on my way and forgot about it. From this time on, my drinking progressed rapidly.  My family life deteriorated.  My friends no longer wanted to drink with me.  Business trips always became benders.  One bender ended by starting another.  I discovered that the conscience was the only part of a human being that was soluble in alcohol.  I lied about my drinking.  I lied about everything else-even things that didn't matter.  I thought that everyone was watching me.

The company for which I worked told me politely but firmly that, unless I controlled my drinking, we would have to part.  I promised to do better and mend my ways.  I was drunk within the hour.  Two months later I appeared drunk at a meeting and the next day I was on my own.

I promptly went on the wagon, got another good position and stayed sober for a year.  Although this new position offered many opportunities, I did not take advantage of them.  I'm sure that this was because I found out that being on the wagon was the most miserable of all existences.  I was moody and irritable.  My mind was never at rest.  I imagined all sorts of things. I worried about the past and I could see no hope for the future.  On occasions, I attended parties where there was some drinking and good natured fun.  I hated every minute of it because I just could not join in with this fun.  I sat morosely by myself, wondering how soon the endless evening would be over. In short, I was just plain sorry for myself.  After several evenings like this, I did everything I could to avoid social engagements and felt more lonely than ever before.  I had lost the art of being friendly.  The people I had liked best irritated me most.

At the end of the year I fell off the wagon, promising myself that I would stop after just a drink or two.  Within weeks I was drinking harder than I ever had before.  The only way I knew to drive away remorse was to drink more and more.   After nine months of mental suffering and physical torture, I sat at home one night alone with a bottle beside me.  I had been drinking hard all day, but no matter how much I drank the shakes did not even diminish.  My mind was clear, but the bottle on which I depended did not do anything for me.  My way of life passed before me as on a screen.  I saw how I had slipped and how rapidly I was deteriorating.  The cure of the bottle on which I had grown to depend no longer worked.  I broke out in a cold sweat.  I was without hope. I could not stop drinking.  The ceiling came down.  The walls pressed in. The floor came up.  I could think of no answer.  There seemed no way out. Was it too late?   There just wasn't any use of taking another drink; even that didn't help. Then across my mind came the picture of my drinking friend whom I had met three years before-clear-eyed and sober.  Then and there I decided to try A.A. I put the bottle away.

Next morning, I made my first contact with A.A. I was asked some questions, one of which was, "Do you turn to lower companionship and inferior environment while drinking?  Ashamed, I felt as if they had been reading my mail.  This, and other questions, convinced me that here were people who understood my problem.

One thing my A.A. friend said to me that morning was, "Today could be the most important day in your life."  It was and still is, for nothing but good has come to me through A.A. After admitting and accepting the fact that I was powerless over alcohol, my first great feeling of relief was that I was no longer alone.  I was in a fellowship of people who had the same problem that I had; indeed, most of them had been very much worse off than I.

Having enjoyed good companionship for many years, my loneliness near the end of my drinking had become real hell to me, but this new fellowship of understanding people gave me new life and new strength.  I now realize that an alcoholic cannot get along alone, any more than anyone else can.  I, like all men, was a social being who desperately needed fellowship and acceptance. These I found in A.A. where hands were reached out to me.  I was not condemned.  On the contrary, I was greatly encouraged by these people who spoke my language and, what was so important, offered me hope.

When I became a member of A.A., I immediately went to the president of the company for which I worked and told him about it.  His hearty handshake and unmistakable look of approval were all that passed between us.  That was enough.  I knew I was on my way up again-as long as I remembered to stay away from the first drink.

As sober days passed into sober weeks, I was soon back in the confidence of men who once gain respected my judgment in business.  I no longer had any fear of interviews with fellow executives because my eyes were clear and my hand was steady.  My home life improved and today it is happier than ever before. Certainly, I still have my ups and downs in my new life without alcohol, but during my years in A.A., I have been and am continually learning to accept the things I cannot change, being given courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

How has all this happened to me?  I have already mentioned how important was the new-found fellowship, but I am sure there is more to it than that alone.  Right from the start of my attending A.A. meetings, I heard various speakers give all credit to a Power greater than themselves.  One morning as I was walking to work, from seemingly nowhere at all, there came a thought that there was a possibility that I might never drink again.  I have had no desire to drink since that time.  It was certainly nothing that I myself could have done that brought this new-found peace.  There was only one answer.  This Power greater than myself had, as to so many others, restored me to sanity.

Finally, let me say that I am sure that I could not have in the past seven years, nor can I in the future, enjoy my happy and contented sobriety unless I try to share it with others.  Therefore, my earnest hope in relating my experience here is that it will help someone, anyone with a drinking problem, but particularly that person who may still be hanging on to his job or business, or may still be holding his home together.

It has often occurred to me that, if I had been a baseball player and had lost an arm, I would soon have reconciled myself to the fact that I could not longer play baseball.  Similarly, with the great help of this fellowship, I have reconciled myself to the fact that I can no longer handle alcohol even to the extent of taking a single drink.

A.A. has given me a happy and contented way of living, and I am very deeply grateful to the founders and early members of A.A. who plotted the course and who kept the faith.

Unpublished Story from 2nd Edition of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous

The Green and Orange Dragon (or does God really exist?)

As I have told you all before, spirituality was not the problem for me.  I worked real hard on the spirituality part for many years.  The part I had trouble with; that made it not work was that I continued to drink and drug at the same time.  This built a brick wall between me and God.  But, if I wanted to know He was there, all I had to do was ask. One time, about four years before I got sober, I asked my "teacher" "How do I even know if there really is a God?" He said, "If you want to know if God exists, Ask Him!"

"What! How could anything be that simple!" I said.  He just looked at me and said "Well, if you don't believe me, when you go into your meditations tonight, ask Him.  Just say, God, if you exist, prove it!"

I said "How will I know?"

He said "Ask for a sign! A green and orange dragon, I don't care!"

So that is exactly what I did.  I went through my normal meditation routine and then just before I was done, I said, "Okay, God, if you really do exist, show me a green and orange dragon, in the next 24 hours!"

No problem, went to bed that night and promptly forgot all about it.  Got up the next morning, went through my normal routine and went to work.   I was managing a hair salon at the time.  A woman worked for me who was straight out of the beatnik era except she was about 30 years too late.  She was late for work.  I was all ready to jump all over her when she finally got there.

Renee came rushing in with a shopping bag from the local toy store.  "Noel, you've just got to see what I bought, on the way to work!"

So she started pulling out all these little plastic wind-up toys and having them walk all over the counter.  How could I be angry at her?

"Wait, Noel, you've got to see the best one.  I saved it for last!  Don't Look!"

She pulls out of her bag one more toy, winds it up and sets it down on the counter.  "Okay, you can look now!"

My heart almost stopped, my eyes teared up.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  Right in front of my eyes stood...

One 2" tall, fire-breathing, GREEN AND ORANGE Dragon, toddling across the counter.

From that moment on Renee had a job for as long as she wanted it.  From that moment on I believed.

Be very careful what you ask for~you just might get it.  And when you do it may very well change your life forever.

One more little thing.  I found a quote the other day.  I don't remember where or who said it.  But it may hit you the way it hit me.

      "Doubt isn't where faith ends, it is what faith heals."

(Soberly submitted by Noel from Prescott Valley, AZ)

STRENGTH


    We don't always have to be strong to be strong.  Sometimes our strength is expressed in  being vulnerable.  Sometimes we need to fall apart to regroup and stay on track.

    We all have days when we cannot push any harder, cannot hold back self-doubt, cannot stop focusing on fear, cannot be strong.

     There are days when we cannot focus on being responsible.  Occasionally, we don't want to get out of our pajamas.  Sometimes we cry in front of people.  We expose our tiredness, irritability or anger.  Those days are okay.  They are just okay

     Part of taking care of ourselves means we give ourselves permission to "fall apart" when we need to.  We don't need to be perpetual towers of strength.  We ARE strong.  We have proven that.

    Our strength will continue if we allow ourselves the courage to feel scared, weak, and vulnerable when we need to experience those feelings.

   Today, help me to know it's okay to allow myself to be human and help me not feel guilty or punish myself when I need to "fall apart".

  Author Unknown






Over-Serious Anonymous 12 Step Program (or Don't Forget to Practice Rule 62) Rule 62: Don't take yourself so serious

1. We admitted that we were powerless over seriousness - that our lives had become unmanageable...

2. Came to believe that only by lightening up could we achieve a state of non-seriousness...

3. Made a decision to turn our constant self-criticism over to our sense of humor and learn to "lovingly and wholeheartedly" laugh at ourselves...

4. Decided to give ouselves a break once in a while, instead of constantly doing searching and fearless moral inventories of ourselves...

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being that our wrongs were often in our heads...

6. Were entirely ready to accept that our characters were as good as anybody else's and possibly better than most...

7.Quit harping on our shortcomings...

8. Made a list of all persons we thought we had harmed and saw that they'd forgotten all the crap we'd blown out of proportion...

9. Quit making amends for breathing air and taking up a few square feet of the planet's surface...

10. Resigned ourselves to the fact we were going to criticize ourselves at times, but would try to stick to our guns when we knew we were right...

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to calm down and realize we're not responsible for everything...

12. Having experienced immense relief from these steps,we would try to carry this message to other over-serious people and to practice these principles in all of our affairs...

Author Unknown

Some Great Quotes From/About the Program or "AA'ers Say the Darnedest Things"

"If you don't add wood to the fire, the fire will go out."

"No God/HP - no peace. Know God/HP - know peace."

"Expectations are planned disappointments."

"Expectations are premeditated resentments."

"What other people think of me is none of my business."

"I grow at the speed of pain."

"P.U.S.H. - Pray Until Something Happens."

"Service keeps us in the middle of recovery so that we don't fall off the edge."

"Our recovery is mental, physical, and spiritual. It's like a stool with 3 legs - if one of the legs breaks, you'll fall flat on your face."

"We're all *here* because we're not *all there*."

"If I'm consulting with myself, I'm consulting with an idiot."

"My mind is like a juke box. It's been filled with bad selections, but now, with 21+ years of recovery, a few of the selections have changed, and I have a few nice tunes to choose from."

"In recovery, I know that God/HP is in my canoe; sometimes he lets me steer, but he never paddles."

"In recovery, I haven't had any totally bad days, but I've had some viscous moments."

"I did not believe in God/HP at all when I first came into 12-Step recovery; not only that, I was really pissed at him, too."

"Before recovery, I often tried to think my way into clean living. Recovery has shown me how to live my way into clean thinking."

Q: "Why does God/HP wait until I'm at the jumping off point before God/HP takes care of my problems? If God's/HP's so great, why doesn't God/HP do something about them before I get to that place?"

A: "The only answer I know to your questions is that God /HP doesn't take. God/HP receives."