“Once a psychic change has occurred, the very same person who seemed doomed, who had so many problems he despaired of ever solving them, suddenly finds himself easily able to control his desire for alcohol, the only effort necessary being that required to follow a few simple rules.” -Alcoholics Anonymous, xxix

     “‘Ideas, emotions, and attitudes which were once the guiding forces of the lives of these men are suddenly cast to one side, and a completely new set of conceptions and motives begin to dominate them.'” – Alcoholics Anonymous, p.27

     I’ve been trying to pound the pavement lately and get my book onto the bookshelves. Sure this is an act of self-will, yet my gut is telling me to go and do it.

     Why did I write the book? Initially, I wanted people to know that you don’t have to get sober and fight through each day. I wanted people to have the spiritual experience I had, to feel that relief and freedom. I also selfishly wanted to initiate a writing career. After being railroaded out of the taxpayer-funded recovery school (i.e. another public trough leech) by a power-hungry director with NPD, I was determined to work for myself. I wanted to be a writer and ideally to help others in the act. Finally, I want the book to sell. For profit? Not necessarily, as I was well aware of how impoverishing a writing career can be. The margins are horrible and I’ve only lost money to this point. But if the book caught fire and did make money, my vision was to start a treatment center roughly modeled after the 12 Step retreat up North that fixed me.

     That has yet to happen, but I have learned something over the last 8 years. Having worked as a chef, counselor, educator, actor, writer, landlord, trader and investor, one thing remains true: Working with others and speaking to others fills me up spiritually like nothing else. And this is why relapse is unthinkable. Because, above all else, my #1 priority in life is my relationship with God, my spiritual health, and the health and recovery of others. So long as that is the case, relapse is unthinkable.

     Since the night I read inventory up North back in 2005, my mind has remained fundamentally changed. From that moment on, not a single thought/desire to drink or use has penetrated my better half. Not only have substances lost all of the power they once had over me, but I naturally repel them. And my old life and my old way of thinking seems more like a past life, or even someone else’s life, rather than my own. Relapse is unthinkable because I can’t even remember what it’s like to think the way I used to.

     The moment that helping others no longer fills me up, I am done. The moment I stop putting my spiritual health and my relationship with God above everything, I am done. Relapse is unthinkable until the moment I stop caring.