Sunday, November 26, 2023

 



Sunday, September 26, 2021

 


Made A Decision

   (32)

                          Sponsorship


From our earliest days in AA we are advised to "get a sponsor." 
 
That's because when we are new to recovery, there is a lot we don’t know. Over time we'll learn it in meetings, but we can get a jump start on all of it by working with a sponsor. 

AA meetings in general promote sponsorship. That's where we'll often hear things like: "I have a sponsor, and my sponsor has a sponsor, and my sponsor's sponsor has a sponsor." 
- or -
"Anyone who thinks they can sponsor themselves has a fool for a sponsor."

We will also get praise from our fellow members when we proudly announce we have found ourselves a sponsor. 

But sponsorship, like many things in AA, has evolved over time:
The meetings of the 1940s fostered participatory sponsorship and many newcomers were sponsored by two or more A.A. members, the sponsor and his or her apprentice(s). Early A.A.’s described this relationship as co-sponsorship. 

I recently heard a devil's advocate (almost all AA meetings have one of these) point out that nowhere in the first 164 pages of the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous does it tell the newcomer, or any other member of A.A., to get a sponsor. 

He said in the first 88 pages of the Big Book there are only references about working with other alcoholics, specifically meaning a couple of alcoholics working together to put the AA program into action, as pictured below.

(BTW, I have no idea how I managed to get this picture in here. So don't expect fancy high tech stuff like this in the future.) 

       But I'm not a page counter or Big Book thumper. I know what's in it, but I don't use it to try and batter people into my way of thinking. 

From my own reading I've come to believe a sponsor is just someone who takes on the job of walking someone through the twelve steps of recovery and then hangs around as a friend in recovery.

 That's what I do as a sponsor and have done so for many years. We go through one step a month for one year, my having found that anyone - no matter how busy their lifestyle - can set aside time to take one step a month. 

When we meet, we read, discuss and spend a couple of hours doing the work, as outlined in our 12&12 book. And - of course - if my sponsee runs head on into a problem between our set meeting times, we will meet up to talk about how to use AA's tools of recovery to resolve their situation.

At year's end we will have done all twelve steps together and they are then ready to take on the sponsoring of others. We will have also spent some time on our important AA Traditions.

By year's end we will have become good friends who will continue to meet up on a regular basis to chat, But - while they usually still call me their sponsor - I believe my actual sponsorship duty has been fulfilled. 

My job - as I define it - is to get them working the steps of recovery in their own lives and to get them ready to sponsor others. 

There is always a need for sponsorship in our program and a person with a year or two of good recovery, having worked all twelve steps and become familiar with our traditions, is far more able to sponsor a raw newcomer than someone with many years of recovery.

 Old timers can easily forget the pain often encountered in brand new sobriety. Someone who has been there more recently relates better, and has a lot more to offer.

I've heard it said that by becoming willing to listen to a sponsor we learn to listen to someone with a higher vision than our own. And that, in turn, guides us toward learning to listen for direction from our Higher Power. If that's true, it's a great outcome.

Many AA members view sponsorship as a long (sometimes lifetime) commitment of care. If that works for them, that's fine by me.

 But I think caution should always be taken to not become too dependent on a sponsor's wisdom regarding anything other than recovery from addiction. 

All a sponsor really has is more sober time than the sponsee, along with the knowledge on how they got there. No sponsor is all knowing, all seeing, all powerful. 
And if a sponsor starts enjoying being viewed that way - as the old song says - "there may be trouble ahead."
A pedestal is something anyone can fall from.

 Too much praise from a sponsee can lead to the growth of too much ego in a sponsor. An inflated ego is dangerous for anyone, but is especially so for us drunks. 

Some sponsors demand their sponsees contact them every single day. Maybe that's even a good idea for the first few weeks in recovery. I know it has worked for many. But I don't do it. 

I'm more comfortable when an AA member calls when they are confused or troubled on how to deal with a situation.
 And especially to call if their thoughts start to fixate on drinking! 
 
As a good friend of mine said to me recently, "I tell my sponsees to call me before they pick up a drink, because then I can help them head that off. If they wait and call me after they've had a drink, it's too late."

I've actually heard AA members say they don't make any decision about anything (medical, psychological, financial, legal, spiritual, or their relationships) without first getting advice from their sponsor. 
To me that's a recipe for creating co-dependent AA members unable to function independently in their own lives. 

It's true that we are often immature when we begin our recovery journey, but even so we arrive as adults seeking at long last to grow up mentally, physically and spiritually. 
The sooner we can manage that - with the help of our Higher Power - the better.  

The best way to do that is outlined in our Big Book, where it states:

 In the Morning: 

We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives. Under these conditions we can employ our mental faculties with assurance, for after all God gave us brains to use.

During the day:

In thinking about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to determine which course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive thought or a decision.

 We usually conclude the period of meditation with a prayer that we be shown all through the day what our next step is to be, that we be given whatever we need to take care of such problems.

                             In the evening:

After making our review we ask God’s forgiveness and inquire what corrective measures should be taken. 

       Taking these actions, morning, noon and night, will keep our need for constant contact with a sponsor to a minimum. Our goal, after all, is not dependency on another human being, but to develop our trust in the guidance of our Higher Power.

I was taught early on that we always need a sponsor. So, after my lovely first sponsor left me for that greater meeting on high, I asked another woman to sponsor me. 

We began by again working the steps and eventually met up for her to hear my Fifth Step. I had barely begun when the shaming began. 

She condemned my current behavior regarding a relationship, she outlined the ways in which I "should" behave, and then - before she could stick a pitchfork into my soul and bag it as a keeper - I fired her.

I had been truly fortunate in having had a good sponsor at the onset, good enough for me to recognize this woman wasn't there to help me, but to judge me. It didn't work, because I had already been taught: "As God's people we stand on our feet; we don't crawl before anyone." 

A sponsor is there to support us, encourage us, and inspire us - never to judge or condemn us. Our sponsor takes us through the 12 steps of recovery and teaches us about our traditions. A sponsor will sometimes suggest we change behaviors that can hurt us, but they won't set out to make us feel bad about our choices. 

The first six women I asked to sponsor me when I arrived in AA turned me down. And, looking back at the me who arrived in AA, I don't blame them.

        But my Higher Power knew I needed that six-pack lesson in humility - and also that the perfect sponsor was out there for me. 

I found her on the 7th try. We were a perfect fit. 

Monday, November 20, 2023

 



Monday, September 20, 2021

 Made A Decision


(31)


The 13th Step - and More.


The woman in the meeting was angry and she said so:


"I almost didn't come to this meeting tonight because I knew (name) was going to be here and he's always hitting on me. He hits on half the women who come here. I've let him know I'm not interested, but he keeps at it all the time. I'm sick of it. And there are other women who won't come to this meeting anymore because of him."


The meeting went uncomfortably silent for several seconds. 


Then the chairman looked directly at the man named and said, "It's high time you learned that the women in these rooms are our sisters in sobriety. And we won’t have any incest in here."


That woman was incredibly brave to speak up and the meeting chairman handled it well. Sadly, that isn't always the case.


There are indeed sexual predators in the rooms of AA, of both sexes. Thankfully, there aren't many of them, but they do show up from time to time to prey on the weak and vulnerable.


Newcomers can be very vulnerable.


The worst of those predators are people with some time in recovery, because newcomers are prone to look up to them. It's a respect they don't deserve and can lead to disaster for the person who has placed them on a pedestal.


Other predators can present themselves to appear weak and needy, seemingly struggling to stay sober. They reach out for help to more seasoned recovering addicts who, thinking the hand of AA is needed, can become trapped in a very sticky web of deceit. 


Old timers can be vulnerable, too.


Predatory behavior in AA is called "13th Stepping," and it is both frowned upon and dangerous. It is an ugly evil misuse of AA's primary purpose, "... to carry its message to the alcoholic who still suffers."


So how to stay out of these traps?


When in doubt about anyone's attention and intentions, talk with others in the program who have a bit of recovery time. Don't just talk with one person, talk with several.

Tell them your concerns about the person you are feeling uncomfortable about. Get their input on that person. Get their advice on how to best handle the situation.

In extreme cases, ask for long-time members of the group to have a talk with that person about their behavior.


I had a young sponsee who was actually being stalked by a man in AA. He backed her into corners at meeting's end or followed her to her car afterward and tried to engage in unwelcome conversations.

But it wasn't until she saw him "jogging" through her neighborhood (many miles from where he actually lived) that she told me about it.

I then had a talk with the man. It was not a friendly talk and he stopped bothering her.

I tell you this only to point out a more experienced AA member can sometimes speak directly to the problem in a way that might make a newcomer feel uncomfortable.


Learning to enjoy our own company allows us to become far less vulnerable to those self-centered slick-talkers who prey upon others, both inside and outside the rooms of AA.  


But what about men and women who aren't predators? What about those lovely people in the rooms to whom we are naturally attracted? What about relationships? 

What about love???


A good sponsor will advise the newly sober to avoid any new relationships, other than friendships, for up to two years in early recovery. By then they'll have a good grounding in staying sober and be enjoying their new way of living.


And, while I know such a leap of imagination may be difficult for you, I wasn't always an old woman in AA. I arrived at the age of 37 with a body full of hormonal juices and a head full of crazy. I haven't died from being celibate during stretches of time in recovery, and neither will you.


Our founding members had quite a lot to say about love and sex after finding sobriety. Blow the dust of your Big Book and 12&12 and have a read.


There is information in the Big Book on getting back together with estranged spouses, about methods to quiet our sexual urges, about pausing when agitated (aka: horny) and asking for the next right thought or action.


The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions book goes into still more detail. Step Five in the 12&12 has a lot to offer about dealing with loneliness. The book touches on the topic in many other chapters, too, offering a great deal on that topic in Step Twelve.


And then there are those of us who have fears about never having a relationship again, or being afraid to even get into a relationship. What do we do about that?


Many who arrive in AA fear they'll never be able to dance again, never mind facing the fear of having sober sex. Both can be terrifying and unnerving to contemplate, but the good news is - like riding that proverbial bicycle - neither is impossible.


When your Higher Power thinks you're ready to deal with being in a relationship, your partner will show up. And when they do, if you have done your AA homework thoroughly, you'll be able to be in a relationship as a grown up, not as a clingy, needy or abusive victim.


Many problems arise when we forget AA is not a social club or dating service. We are here to address the facts about our progressive and fatal disease by applying the steps of recovery - and to help our fellow suffering alcoholics achieve that same goal.


When we jump into a relationship too soon, we set ourselves - and our partner - up for heartbreak. Relationships early in recovery are lived out on slippery ground and many of them end with one or both people drinking again. (With drinking for us being a potential death sentence, do you really want that in your next fourth step?)


"To sum up about sex: We earnestly pray for the right ideal, for guidance in each questionable situation, for sanity, and for the strength to do the right thing. 

If sex is very troublesome, we throw ourselves the harder into helping others. We think of their needs and work for them. 

This takes us out of ourselves. It quiets the imperious urge, when to yield would mean heartache."
Alcoholics Anonymous 4th Edition
How It Works, pg. 70

Instead of obsessing about being in a relationship (as so many of us do), write down instead how you'd like your entire life to look in a year's time. 

Include your health, career, travel, hobbies, housing, friends, romance and more. Put your wish list away to read again in 12 months.

Then get busy working the program of AA: Stay sober, develop AA friendships, help others, and learn in the process what makes you tick and feel good about yourself.


In the 12&12 it tells us, "We have learned that the satisfaction of instincts cannot be the sole aim of our lives."


(Can I get an "amen?")


My first sponsor, Mary Z., was one smart cookie. Early on in my recovery she told me:

"AA is a perfect program full of some very sick people. And we attract what we are. So if you want a relationship, work on becoming the best person you can become until your perfect partner shows up."

And I suggest you take my old sponsor's advice and use it, since I didn't. Very early on I opted for having a relationship with a wet drunk instead. That "romance" over time spiraled me downward into a depression that damn near killed me.

Some people only learn from their own mistakes.

Smart people learn from the mistakes of others.

Be a smart person.


Sunday, November 12, 2023

 


Sunday, November 5, 2023

 


Monday, September 6, 2021

 Made a Decision


(29)

                               AA Friendships

It is often heard in AA that we stopped maturing when we started drinking, drugging, or both. That was certainly true of me.

I arrived in AA at the age of 37. My 11-year marriage had ended. I had four small children. I had an insatiable thirst for alcohol, my newspaper career was hanging by a thread due to my many hungover absences, and I had all the social skills of a befuddled and unpopular 17-year-old.

The old-timers who were around to help me in the days, months, and years of my early recovery have all now gone to that great meeting in the sky.  And many of my own age group who arrived close to the same time are also now members of that higher meeting. 

But, OH, the times we all had together in those early days. I wouldn't trade growing up in AA for any amount of worldly treasure. Together my AA peers and I learned, through our laughter, tears and fury, how to stay sober despite everything! 

Those friendships, especially with those having a sobriety date close to our own, are designed just for us. With 20/20 hindsight, I know mine offered me the purest, craziest, most wonderful friendships I've ever enjoyed in my life.

For starters, we learned how to be honest in our communication, never easy for anyone like me who learned to lie when I learned to talk.

And we learned to grow a thicker skin, to understand that everything said and done wasn't aimed at, or all about, "little old me." We found out others had feelings and opinions, too, feelings and opinions we had to learn to respect. 

It's written in AA literature that we have "a disease of perception." Every person perceives the world in their own way, but an alcoholic's world view can easily become distorted. 
 
We can hear things that weren't meant in the way we heard them, we can see things not as they are, but as we are, and we can often fear things that don't exist. 

Our AA friends help get our distorted vision back to normal when their actions show us they have a disease of perception, too. Their behavior can force us to look at our own behavior - and to learn from it.

During our early (slightly-crazed) recovery we learn to not believe everything we think. 
And we learn to not share everything we think until we have had some time for a long think about it. 

We stop having knee-jerk reactions to things said or done by others (most of the time). And we discover we can "pause when agitated," and then behave differently than we have always done before.

(Note - It works, when we work it.)

I can still remember my embarrassment when an AA friend made an awkward amend to me after he failed to show up to share for me at one of the first meetings I ever chaired. 

He'd had been in a fight with his wife and decided "I'll show her, I'll kill me," and went off to get drunk. 
As it happened, on the way to buy liquor, his sanity returned and he didn't drink that evening. But the fight and its aftermath made it too late for him to get to our group's meeting. 

My friend called a couple of days later and asked me to meet him at a local coffee shop. There he stared at the table and apologized for letting me down and I stared at the table embarrassed for him all the while he talked. It was an incredibly awkward conversation for both of us, but we got through it and came out the other side as better people. 
I'm still grateful for it.

While those wise old-timers (whom we unwisely put on pedestals) were lovely to listen to, it was our AA peer group who kept us sober over the many bumps in the road we encountered during early sobriety.

They were the ones we confided in, argued with, talked with about AA itself (and everyone in it), and they were the same people we loved best - and sometimes hated. 

We were then all still caught up in a lifestyle of high drama and they were, too. Having recently been long-time drunks that was the only kind of lifestyle we knew. 

But we wanted to be sober and we didn't want any of our AA friends to give up on sobriety and drink again. We learned to care about the struggles of people other than ourselves.

It takes time to slow down and smell the roses for high octane people like newly recovering alcoholics. Our revered old-timers don't always remember that. But our peer group remembers. They're often still struggling with it.

There are some very funny incidents in our early AA friendships:  
I had three women friends who all got to the program when I did. We would get together often to moan and groan, with one or two of us usually being bat-shit crazy and the third then becoming the voice of AA wisdom and advice. 

The sane one always managed to glue the other two back together, and any one of us might be the sanest of the three on any given day.

We three once went to an AA retreat out of town and shared the same motel room. One night, while chatting before bed, one said we should have T-shirts printed with "D.S.P." (for Designated Sane Person) on them, so we'd know which one of us was the least crazy when we all got together.
We laughed so hard over this that one of us actually fell out of bed.
 (That would be me).

But there were harsh lessons, too:  
One of our group, a man with six years sobriety to our one or two years, drank again. 

None of us knew how to handle the situation. A couple of us made tentative efforts to talk him back to AA, but mostly we just talked about him among ourselves with a lot of head shaking and tsk-tsking.

I'll never forget how I felt the morning I learned our friend, now separated from his wife and family, had fallen while drunk, ruptured his spleen, and bled to death on the floor of his low-rent apartment.

His death was the first experience in our recovery where we got to see close up and personal the deadly nature of our disease. It shook us to the core. Sadly, I've had many such experiences since. 
They don't get any easier.

Then there were the sad, bad, and sometimes even crazy-mad experiences we shared inside our group itself:

 Like the time an angry and very irrational group member shouted curses at all of us, started to cry, and reached into her purse for a tissue. 
She then looked up, startled no doubt by the noise we had all made when hitting the floor. Every one of us had thought she'd gone into her purse for a gun. 

I have seen tempers flare into fist fights in AA, have heard many angry shouting matches in the rooms, and I have actually seen guns drawn. 
(I'm an American, after all.)

 One giant of a man arrived one day into our meeting with anger to spare. He was tattooed all over, wore leather and chains, rode a Harley and packed a gun. 
That same man today - transformed by his years in the program - is a lovely old grandfather and model citizen in his community. 
He had to do a bit of hard work between the then and the now, but 
 -  it always works when we work it!

In my very first home group the person with the longest period of sobriety was my friend with the six-years who drank and died. His unstinted help to me during my first couple of years in AA is the reason I'm alive to write this today. 

He (and his Al-Anon wife) took me to meetings, shared literature and friendship, and loved me even when I was newly stark-raving sober.

From his untimely death I learned none of us is immune from drinking again. We have a daily reprieve contingent on our spiritual condition on THAT day only ... 
one day at a time.

Most of the members of my first home group are now gone, but to the best of my knowledge they all died sober. Two who are still around remain in touch with me on email. They've now been married 40 years. When I met them I wouldn't have given odds on them lasting six months.

They got married in a blackout. Neither one of them remembered the event. When they sobered up (slightly), she panicked and left their northern state and went to stay with friends in the deep south state of Georgia. Those friends happened to be in the fellowship and she began going to meetings with them.

Meanwhile, he spent time and money tracking her down and then made the 1,000 mile (or so) trip to show up at her door. 

They got back together (as we do) and ended up living in a tent on the wildest part of the coastal barrier island where all of us lived at that time. 

She kept on going to meetings and eventually he did, too. They got sober and stayed sober, despite their fierce battles, separations and eventual get-back-togethers.

(Once she even left him and moved in with me and my kids for a time. When he came around to talk with her, my dog bit him.)

Today they are both sane, sober, senior citizens. No one meeting them would ever believe the high drama history we all lived through. But we all sobered up together and our conversations and emails today are full of laughter about those days. 
Survival! It's a beautiful thing.

That same couple, and others from our group in those early days, usually went to a local coffee shop after our meetings. 
There we drank gallons of coffee, ate desserts with a high enough sugar content to make a honey bee flinch, and trashed every single member of our group who hadn't joined us for the meeting-after-the-meeting. 

Such less-than-spiritual bonding helped us to all stay sober.  I can highly recommend it.