SOBRIETY — A JOURNEY NOT A DESTINATION
By: Dennis N
Tags: Sober, Alcoholism, Sobriety, Sober Living, Recover

When I first started attending AA meetings, I kept hearing the same slogans over and over:

“Keep coming…”

“It gets better..”

“Stay until the miracle happens..”

“One day at a time…”

Honestly I hated them.

(Authors note: Any and all statements in anything I write are my opinion based solely on my personal experiences and observations, they are not to be considered scientific facts. Just the ramblings of a wandering soul).

Early sobriety for me was a total paradox. You see, I wanted to get better. I wanted to stop the “wash — rinse — repeat cycle” of that my life had become. I could control my drinking. Abstain for a few days or even weeks, but I would always go back.

I could not take the pain anymore.

BUT-

A part of my broken soul enjoyed the pain and misery. For years the constant ache of my misery was like the pilot light of my existence. The irony is that pain I was trying to numb had also become a companion. It was my excuse for my bad behavior and questionable choices. When my drinking was less out of control, I believed that any time I drank to excess was justified. I had a rough day/week/month. I was having fun!

This was not irresponsible binge drinking like a Frat-Boy — I was an adult.

As a responsible adult, I was able to weave a whole tapestry of stories to justify what was clearly alcoholic behaviors.

Drink a shot of hard booze then have a beer would save money. Have a drink at home before going out, save even more money. Stay home and get pissed drunk by myself? Not drinking and driving!

The hangovers got worse. The health issues got worse. The isolation got worse. The anger got worse.

I was broken and I needed help.

The problem was, the people who could help knew me already. They didn’t know Dennis the new guy who had walked in personally. But they knew ME.

I was them at one time. They knew the fear, shame, disgust and sadness that lived inside of me.

They were happy. They smiled and laughed. They knew I would smile and laugh like them one day if I did what they told me to do. I was given books and phone numbers and hugs and handshakes.

I HATED IT.

But like Richard Gere’s character from “An Officer and a Gentleman” screaming at his Drill Instructor “I got nowhere else to go!!”.

Things got better quickly. Remarkably so.

I removed booze from my life and the chaos settled. I wasn’t planning trips to sneak some drinks. I wasn’t hoarding the change from buying coffee and lunch so I could have cash only transactions with no paper trail from a liquor store. I wasn’t lying about why I smelled like booze, or more likely smelled like mints, mouthwash or any other variety of tricks I relied on to camouflage my breath.

So it got better. Until it didn’t

Shit happens. Life happens. People, places and things will let you down and test your resolve.

You fall on your face, a lot.

There is a great line I heard in a meeting once:

“There is good news and bad news with getting sober. The good news is you get your feelings back. The bad news is you get your feelings back.”

So when I fell on my face, I had to feel the emotions. I had to deal with them in a way that was very different from the way I had coped before.

My first real challenge came with 92 days of sobriety under my belt.

After three months of sobriety, you are allowed to be a speaker at a meeting. I have never been afraid of public speaking but my alcoholism had never been the subject matter before. I went to a meeting with members of my home group and shared my story to hall filled with a hundred-plus people.

I was AWESOME.

People laughed, they got teary. I was approached by so many people commending me, thanking me and telling me I had done a great job. I was saving souls!

My ego swelled my head so large; I could barely leave the hall.

The next day, I was let go from my job.

While there were several factors that led to this dismissal, the reality is I had not been a top performer when in the grips of my disease and despite three months of sobriety the damage was done.

Things felt like they were slipping off the rails rapidly. I started to isolate. I was depressed. I spoke to my sponsor and I said all the right things to keep him off my back.

I was not ok.

Two days later was my weekly meeting. I was not going to attend. I told my wife I was taking a break and would go another time. She was unsympathetic and threatened to call my sponsor if I didn’t get my ass out the door and to the meeting.

I went, but I was not happy about it.

There is another expression in AA — There are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. The Universe, the Great Spirit, Karma, Synchronicity, Higher Power, God, the Force…. Something will make things happen that while random align with what needs to happen in your life at that moment.

On this night, the people that were supposed to come and speak at our meeting did not show up.

A friend was called up to speak and he was to select the next speaker when he was finished.

He chose me.

I proceeded to tell the room full of people that their slogans were bullshit.

It wasn’t getting better.

The was no miracle coming.

The things they were telling me were lies.

At that moment I didn’t know if I would drink again or not — but I sure as hell wasn’t buying into this program because life sucks and I’m trying really hard and it STILL sucks.

When I was done, and the meeting wrapped up. I was approached by my new friends with open arms and an unconditional love that is truly hard to explain.

Men and women, who just a few weeks before had never laid eyes on me offered their assistance and support. They told me that my feelings were valid but that I was going to be ok. That no matter how bad it got, I had to remember that drinking was not going to solve any of the problems and most likely make them worse.

My phone number was entered and saved into peoples contact lists and the next day I was inundated with texts and calls to check on me, reminding me that I’d be ok and to tell me they loved me.

These people do not know me. They do not know my last name. They do not know where I live. They do not know my wife, kids…. NOTHING.

What they do know is that if I drink again, I am probably unemployable. I am going to be kicked out of my house and good luck being allowed to see my kids.

From that day

It got better.

The miracle happened.

And I continue to take it one day at a time.