OKaysez

 

Made a Decision 

(57)

                        Romance on the AA Campus 

                (and other potential addictions). 

            

I was told "no romance for a minimum of two years" when I got to AA. Being unique, I wanted to disregard that advice. I was 37-years-of-age, after all. I was a grownup. I could see no good reason for that abstinence.

Here's the reason: 

It takes a while on what will become our lifetime journey of recovery to find our feet and be able to withstand those strong addictive emotions that, once they hit, can bring about a stumble, or worse, a slip. 

I understand that now, of course, because hindsight is almost always 20/20. The advice was given because alcoholics are addicts and we can become addicted to pretty much anything, even long after we've put the plug in the jug. 

To be blunt, we addicts like a high. We love the buzz. When our minds get turned on by anything (or anyone) the voice of our disease inside our head shouts: "This feels GREAT. I'll have lots and lots more of it, thanks."

In "recovery" we can become hooked on many things - action (running, body building, dancing), food (especially sugary or high-fat foods), gambling, sex, coffee, nicotine (in all its forms), over-spending (often credit card money), other people, plastic surgery, religion, soda pop ... you name it, our motto is (and quite possibly always will be) "More is better." 

We slide sideways into other addictions and in the process (sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly) move away from keeping our Higher Power in the top slot in our lives. We don't recognise that's what we're doing, of course, but anything - ANYTHING - that takes precedence over developing and maintaining that primary relationship becomes our Higher Power. 

My own Higher Power has doled out some pretty heavy consequences to me when I've put anything else into that Number One slot. I've done so once or twice during my recovery mainly by just not knowing any better at the time.

When I keep my Higher Power in the rightful place, all the rest of my life falls easily, happily and productively into place. But, being human and not saintly, I haven't always been able to manage it.

 

For various periods of time in sobriety I have latched onto addictions for plastic-spending, comfort eating, fame seeking (when my first book was published), coffee (two or three pots of coffee a day back then can't really be called normal), over-protection of my children, and believe it or not - dancing!

 In every case I denied I was addicted and even sometimes lied to close friends for no good reason when pressed about it. "I've only had TWO cups of coffee, honest."

 (Just like I once had only drunk those "TWO" beers.)

I put a man in place of my Higher Power once, too, and kept him there for quite a while, ignoring every invasive thought that inviting him into my world was clearly not a good idea.

 With fingers in my ears and my mouth making "lalalalala" noises, I could not (and would not) hear any opinions to the contrary.

He was abusive, unkind, controlling, jealous and elusive. But I saw his "potential" and knew that I could bring it out in him. I could save him! 

I made him the most important part of my life - far more important than anyone or anything else. 

It's called "Self-Will Run Riot." 

The Big Book has quite a lot to say about it and none of it good. The main theme being that the biggest danger we face as recovering people is our self-will.

My Higher Power didn't step in and stop my side-trip into relationship-based insanity for me, either (God doesn't want puppets, He wants volunteers). Over the lengthy course of that doomed relationship I sank deeper and deeper into depression until suicide began to look like a viable option. When we stop paying daily attention to our recovery we can indeed get to that point while remaining 100-percent booze free.

 I eventually was able to recognise the relationship was just one more addiction when I felt I couldn't live without him, but found it impossible to quit. 

We all know that's the worst and most hellish place there is ... but, just like with booze, or any other addiction, the relief comes when we surrender our powerlessness and again let our Higher Power actually BE our Higher Power.

Incidentally, all throughout that addiction I prayed for it to continue with peace, love and sanity, but found within it only frustration, sorrow and, finally, desperation. There's an Indian Proverb that perfectly sums up being stuck like that:  "Call on God, but row away from the rocks."

(Here's a tip - if you're involved in any kind of addictive behavior and find yourself telling your closest friends or sponsor that it's not a problem, that it's all working out just fine, that you've got the situation well under control - you just might be in trouble.)

  "Every single one of us approached A.A. in trouble, in impossible trouble, in hopeless trouble. And that is why we came."

When we first get into AA it's a lot easier to accept there is a God of our own understanding who helped us get off alcohol and drugs and to make keeping in touch with that power our number one priority. But as time goes on it's just as easy to let that slide a bit. 

After all, this Higher Power connection isn't clear cut or even visible. It seldom feels real much of the time in early recovery, and certainly not in the way that a sweetly-fragrant newly-purchased car does or like scoring a big exciting win at the races. 

And it sure as hell doesn't snuggle up and whisper lovely naughty things to us.

Our disease has a much louder voice than the one used by my Higher Power. And our disease remains ever "cunning, baffling and powerful." It wants us dead and will use anything - ANYTHING - to get us back to drinking and using again.

No one ever said this recovery thing is easy. 

Simple, yes. Easy, no.

No one will tell you keeping your Higher Power as the number one relationship in your life is easy, either. But those who stay the course will absolutely tell you it's worth it.

Long-term recovery eventually brings the importance of that higher relationship into sharp focus, but I've come to believe that all those addictive side trips we take in recovery are probably there to teach us just that. 

"For the garden is the only place that is, but you will not find it until you have looked for it everywhere and found nowhere that is not a desert." 

          W.H. Auden, British-American Poet.

I no longer think we make any mistakes in our lives. We just have different "lessons." A painful "lesson" can be a blessing in disguise if it takes us to our knees. Maybe we need those jolts of pain from time to time in order to learn what our Higher Power wants for us? 

All I know for sure is that my recovery and spiritual growth have to come first for me. I now make sure on a daily basis that they do. 

And I believe that's a right and necessary self-concern for each and every one of us.