“Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
Step 2. (Pages 25 – 33 The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous)
Here’s the caveat: Being restored assumes you already had it.
Not that I’m harshly judging anybody, but Alcoholics Anonymous isn’t exactly a hotbed of mental health.
I should know, because I fit right in. It was clear from the start this is where I belonged.
Alcoholics are my people.
I need to be around folks who are doing the same thing and living this lifestyle.
Since I was a kid, I always knew there was something the matter. It was only after coming here that I was able to put my finger on it: I’m crazy.
Gee whiz. That sure made me feel better.
Give me some credit, it’s not like I’m howling at the moon.
I can’t drink.
Here’s the deal:
“Insanity” refers to our approach to drinking.
There are different types of crazy.
This isn’t about someone rollerskating down main street with a pinwheel hat and laughing maniacally.
My insanity is right beneath the surface, and immediately kicks in at the mere thought of a drink:
I buy into the idea that I can get away with impossible things because “ I’m just a little bit smarter than everyone else.”
That has never worked for me.
Drinking does not, has not, and will never work for me.
None of this cutting down, or controlling it crap.
The only answer is complete and total abstinence.
If I was to enjoy a life of serenity, peace and happiness – acceptance was the key.
The stark, hard truth is that when it comes to anything even remotely addictive, I can’t be trusted.
As a result, I have summarily forfeit all drinking privileges.
There was never anything subtle or nuanced about my brand of crazy.
It features a resourceful talent for coming up with creative excuses for excessive drinking.
I don’t want to brag or anything, but I possess the uncanny ability to abuse anything.
It’s kind of pathetic when you can’t be trusted with Oreos, or a pint of Cherry Garcia.
Turn me loose and in no time I’ll lapse into a hyperglycemic coma.
…But I digress.
Statistically, most alcoholics destroy themselves before being successfully twelve stepped, and admitting defeat. It’s devastating to witness.
If you made it here and actually stayed, recognize the incredible gift from your Higher Power.
Jealously protect it.
The most tragic and insane people are those who are perpetually ‘coming back’.
You know, those guys who proudly proclaim, “I’ve been coming around for fifteen years now, and in three days I’ll have a week!”
Half measures avail us nothing. No prisoners.
HERE'S THE TAKEAWAY:
You can run, but you can’t hide.
Acknowledge and accept the elephant in the room.
It may sound bizarre, but in the end you have to embrace the insanity.