Relapse Is Unthinkable

   “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.

Trophies

     Why do I still need a trophy every time I do a good deed? That’s absolutely pathetic after getting sober so long ago. I forget that it’s okay to do the right thing without broadcasting it to the world. It’s okay to help someone without being awarded a medal of honor. In fact, altruism doesn’t involve trophies. An altruistic act isn’t really altruistic if we need recognition for it… or if there’s any other selfish motive attached to it.

     In early sobriety, my idea of doing the right thing was not at all altruistic. Giving a homeless man change to clear my conscience isn’t altruistic. Holding the door for an old lady in a crowded mall to make myself feel like a good person isn’t altruistic. In fact, it’s self-seeking. Usually we want other people to see what we are doing, which of course, wipes out any spec of altruism in the said act.
     Picking up trash so I feel like a good citizen isn’t altruistic. Speaking at an AA meeting to get that little spiritual buzz isn’t altruistic. Even working with a sponsee just because I felt like helping someone that day isn’t altruistic. Helping because I feel like helping isn’t altruistic. Why? Because I’m doing these things only when I feel like doing them. And I’m doing them because I’m getting something out of it.
     What is real altruism? Perhaps there is no such thing, but I suppose it involves helping others when you don’t feel like helping others and when you’re not getting anything out of it. It is picking up the phone at 3:00 in the morning when that annoying person we all know is calling in desperation. No, I don’t want to pick up the phone and talk for an hour at 3:00 in the morning, especially because I know who’s calling and I know he’s annoying as hell.
     True altruism might also be cleaning my Mom’s storage space. No one sees me. No one sees the storage space. I’m just helping Mom because it’s the right thing to do. No glory. No recognition. No broadcasts. No trophies.
     True altruism is perhaps working with that kid who keeps relapsing over and over and over, and you know that he’s a complete dumbass and is probably going to die. It’s not fun to help him. You don’t get to see him change before your eyes. You don’t get to see him recover and make amends and go off to help yet others. You just get a hoarse voice from breaking down the Big Book Step process so many times.
     The best thing for addicts is to do something helpful that no one sees, that doesn’t feed our conscience, that doesn’t get us a pat on the back, that doesn’t fit into our schedule, that doesn’t give us a spiritual buzz, that doesn’t fuel our pride, ego and self-esteem. The best thing for addicts is not to receive trophies from people just because we did the right thing. Addicts shouldn’t be getting trophies because then they expect trophies every time they do a good deed. Then they stop doing good deeds unless they get a trophy. They they become preoccupied with feeling good again, even in sobriety. Then they relapse.
     So no trophy is a good trophy… even those sobriety chips we award each other in AA meetings. We alcoholics and addicts shouldn’t be awarding ourselves, getting claps and recognition, or patting ourselves on the back just because we stopped hurting other people. This is what we do with small children. Do we really need a gold star because we stayed sober today and didn’t rip the hearts our of our entire family? Ridiculous.
God, teach me to serve You and others, not to clear my conscience or to be self-seeking, but because it’s the right thing to do…