Living sober (11 page)

Some people show real zeal for pressing salt into their own wounds. A ferocious proficiency at that useless game often survives from our drinking days.

We can also display a weird flair for expanding a minor annoyance into a whole universe of gloom.

When the mail brings a whopping telephone bill—just one—we bemoan our
constantly
being in debt, and declare it will never,
never
end. When a soufflé falls, we say it proves that we never could and never will do anything right. When the new car arrives, we say to somebody, "With my luck, it'll be a . . . "

If you finished that statement with the name of a sour citrus, you're in our club.

It's as if we carried on our back a large duffel bag stuffed with unpleasant memories, such as childhood hurts and rejections. Twenty, even forty years later, there occurs a small setback only slightly similar to an old one in the bag. That is our cue to sit down, unshoulder the bag, and pull out and lovingly caress, one at a time, every old hurt and putdown of the past. With total emotional recall, we then relive each of them vividly, flushing with shame at childhood embarrassments, grinding our teeth on old angers, rewording old quarrels, shivering with nearly forgotten fear, or maybe blinking away a tear or two over a long gone disappointment in love.

Those are fairly extreme cases of unadulterated self-pity, but not beyond recognition by anybody who has ever had, seen, or wanted to go on a crying jag. Its essence is total self-absorption. We can get so stridently concerned about me-me-me that we lose touch with virtually everyone else. It's not easy to put up with anyone who acts that way, except a sick infant. So when we get into the poor-me bog, we try to hide it, particularly from ourselves. But that's no way to get out of it.

Instead, we need to pull out of our self-absorption, stand back, and take a good, honest look at ourselves. Once we recognize self-pity for what it is, we can start to do something about it other than drink.

Friends can be a great help if they're close enough that we can talk openly with each other. They can hear the false note in our song of sorrow and call us on it. Or we ourselves may hear it; we begin to get our true feelings sorted out by the simple means of expressing them aloud.

Another excellent weapon is humor. Some of the biggest belly laughs at AA meetings erupt when a member describes his or her own latest orgy of self-pity, and we listeners find ourselves looking into a fun-house mirror. There we are—grown men and women tangled up in the emotional diaper of an infant. It may be a shock, but the shared laughter takes a lot of the pain out of it, and the final effect is salutary.

When we catch self-pity starting, we also can take action against it with instant bookkeeping. For every entry of misery on the debit side, we find a blessing we can mark on the credit side. What health we have, what illnesses we don't have, what friends we have loved, the sunny weather, a good meal a-coming, limbs intact, kindnesses shown and received, a sober 24 hours, a good hour's work, a good book to read, and many other items can be totaled up to outbalance the debit entries that cause self-pity.

We can use the same method to combat the holiday blues, which are sung not only by alcoholics.

Christmas and New Year's, birthdays, and anniversaries throw many other people into the morass of self-pity. In AA, we can learn to recognize the old inclination to concentrate on nostalgic sadness, or to keep up a litany of who is gone, who neglects us now, and how little we can give in comparison to rich people. Instead, we add up the other side of the ledger, in gratitude for health, for loved ones who
are
around, and for our ability to give love, now that we live in sobriety. And again, the balance comes out on the credit side.

23 Seeking professional help

Probably every recovered alcoholic has needed and sought professional help of the sort AA does not provide. For instance, the first two

AA members, its co-founders, needed and got help from physicians, hospitals, and clergymen.

Once we have started staying sober, a lot of our problems seem to disappear. But certain matters remain, or arise, which do require expert professional attention, such as that of an obstetrician, a chi-ropodist, a lawyer, a chest expert, a dentist, a dermatologist, or a psychological counselor of some kind.

Since AA does not furnish such services, we rely on the professional community for job-getting or vocational guidance, advice on domestic relations, counseling on psychiatric problems, and many other needs. AA does not give financial assistance, food, clothing, or shelter to problem drinkers.

But there are good professional agencies and facilities particularly happy to help out an alcoholic who is sincerely trying to stay sober.

One's need for a helping hand is no sign of weakness and no cause for shame. "Pride'' that prevents one's taking an encouraging boost from a professional helper is phony. It is nothing but vanity, and an obstacle to recovery. The more mature one becomes, the more willing one is to use the best possible advice and help.

Examining "case histories" of recovered alcoholics, we can see clearly that all of us have profited, at one time or another, from the specialized services of psychiatrists and other physicians, nurses, counselors, social workers, lawyers, clergymen, or other professional people. The basic AA.

textbook, "Alcoholics Anonymous," specifically recommends (on page 74) seeking out such help.

Fortunately, we have found no conflict between AA ideas and the good advice of a professional with expert understanding of alcoholism.

We do not deny that alcoholics have had many unfortunate experiences with some professional men and women. But nonalcoholics, since there are more of them, have had even more such experiences.

The absolutely perfect doctor, pastor, or lawyer, who never makes a mistake, has not come along yet. And as long as there are sick people in the world, it is likely that title time will never come when no errors are ever committed in dealing with illness.

In fairness, we have to confess that problem drinkers are not exactly the easiest people to help. We sometimes lie. We disobey instructions. And when we get well, we blame the doctor for not undoing sooner the damage we spent weeks, months, or years wreaking on ourselves. Not all of us paid our bills promptly. And, time after time, we did our best to sabotage good care and advice, to put the professional person "in the wrong." It was a cheap, false win, since in the end it was we who suffered the consequences.

Some of us are now aware that our behavior prevented our getting the good advice or care we really needed. One way of explaining our contrary conduct is to say that it was dictated by our illness.

Alcohol is cunning and baffling. It can force anyone in its chains to behave in a self-destructive manner, against his or her own better judgment and true desires. We did not plan willfully to foul up our own health; our addiction to alcohol was simply protecting itself against any inroads by health agents.

If we now find ourselves sober but still trying to second-guess the really expert professionals, it can be taken as a warning signal. Is active alcoholism trying to sneak its way back into us?

In some instances, the conflicting opinions and recommendations of other recovering alcoholics can make it hard for a newcomer seeking good professional help. Just as nearly every person has a favorite antidote for a hangover or remedy for the common cold, so nearly everyone we know has favorite and unfavorite doctors.

Of course, it is wise to draw on the large bank of accumulated wisdom of alcoholics already well along in recovery. But what works for others isn't always necessarily what will work for you. Each of us has to accept final responsibility for his or her own action or inaction. It is up to each individual.

After you have examined the various possibilities, consulted with friends, and considered the pros and cons, the decision to get and use professional help is ultimately your own. To take or not to take disulfiram (Antabuse), to go into psychotherapy, to go back to school or change jobs, to have an operation, to go on a diet, to quit smoking, to take or disregard your lawyer's advice about your taxes—these are all your own decisions. We respect your right to make them—and to change your mind when developments so warrant.

Naturally, not all medical, psychological, or other scientific experts see exactly eye-to-eye with us on everything in this booklet. That's perfectly okay. How could they? They have not had the personal, firsthand experience we have had with alcoholism, and very few of them see as many problem drinkers for as long as we do. Nor have we had the professional education and discipline which prepared them for their duties.

This is not to say that they are right and we are wrong, or vice versa. We and they have entirely different roles and responsibilities in helping problem drinkers.

May you have the same good fortune in these regards that so many of us have had. Hundreds of thousands of us are deeply grateful to the countless professional men and women who helped us, or tried to.

24 Steering clear of emotional entanglements

Falling in love with your doctor or nurse or a fellow patient is an old romantic story. Recovering alcoholics are susceptible to the same fever. In fact, alcoholism does not seem to bring immunity from any known human condition.

Sorrow is born in the hasty heart, an old saw goes. Other troubles, including an alcoholic bout, can be, too.

During our days of bottles, cans, and glasses, many of us spent a lot of time concerned about intimate personal ties. Whether we wanted temporary partnerships or a long-term "meaningful relationship," we were often preoccupied with our deep involvement—or noninvolvement —with other people.

A great many of us blamed our drinking on lack of affection, saw ourselves as constantly in search of love, drinking as we prowled from bar to party. Others of us apparently had all the emotional ties we needed or wanted, but drank anyhow. Either way, alcohol certainly did not ripen our comprehension of mature love, nor our ability to enter into and handle it if it did come our way.

Rather, our drinking lives left our emotional selves pinched, scraped, bent, and bruised, if not pretty firmly warped.

So, as our experience shows, the first non-drinkmg days are likely to be periods of great emotional vulnerability. Is this an extended pharmacological effect of the drinking? Is it a natural state for anyone recuperating from a long and severe illness? Or does it indicate a deep flaw in the personality? The answer doesn't matter at first. Whatever the cause, the condition is one we have to watch out for, because it can tempt us to drink faster than the eye, head, or heart can realize.

We have seen such relapses happen in several ways. In the early relief and delight of getting well, we can whip up enormous crushes on new people we meet, both in AA and outside it, especially when they show genuine interest in us, or seem to gaze up at us in admiration. The giddy rapture this can bring makes us highly susceptible to a drink.

An emotional opposite can also be the case. We may seem so numb that we are almost immune to affection for a while after stopping drinking. (Clinicians tell us it is common for people to have no interest or very much ability in sex for many months after stopping drinking—but that problem straightens itself out beautifully as health returns. We know!) Until we are assured that the numbness will pass, going back to drinking appears an attractive "remedy," which leads to even worse trouble.

Our shaky emotional condition also affects our feelings toward old friends and family. For many of us, these relationships seem to heal promptly as we pursue recovery. For others, there arrives a period of touchiness at home; now that we're sober, we have to sort out how we actually feel about spouse, children, siblings, parents, or neighbors, then reexamine our behavior. Fellow workers, clients, employees, or employers also require such attention.

(Often, our drinking has had a severe emotional impact on those closest to us, and they, too, may need help in recovering. They may turn to Al-Anon Family Groups and Alateen [see your telephone directory]. Although these fellowships are not officially connected with AA, they are very similar, and they help nonalcoholic relatives and friends to live more comfortably with knowledge about us and our condition.)

Over the years, we have become strongly convinced that almost no important decisions should be arrived at early in our sobriety, unless they cannot possibly be delayed. This caution particularly applies to decisions about people, decisions with high emotional potential. The first, uncertain weeks of sobriety are no time to rush into major life changes.

Another caution: Tying our sobriety to someone we are emotionally involved with proves flatly disastrous. "Ill stay sober if so-and-so does this or that" puts an unhealthy condition on our recovery.

We have to stay sober for ourselves, no matter what other people do or fail to do.

We should remember, too, that intense dislike also is an emotional entanglement, often a reversal of past love. We need to cool
any
overboard feeling, lest it flip us back into the drink.

It is easy to consider yourself an exception to this generalization. Newly sober, you may earnestly believe that you have at long last found
real
love—or that your present attitude of dislike, persisting even into sobriety, means there always was something fundamentally wrong about the relationship.

In either instance, you
may
be right—but just now, it's wise to wait and see whether your attitude will change.

Again and again, we have seen such feelings change dramatically in only a few months of sobriety.

So, using "First Things First," we have found it helpful to concentrate first on sobriety alone, steering clear of
any
risky emotional entanglements.

Immature or premature liaisons are crippling to recovery. Only after we have had time to mature somewhat beyond merely not drinking are we equipped to relate maturely to other people.