I’m grateful for a decent night of sleep. I’m grateful for eventually finding coffee. I’m grateful for a mini-adventure. I’m grateful for a full day ahead. I’m grateful for how I got here (not just the plane). I’m grateful to be sober today.
You hear a lot in recovery about “people, places and things.” I’ve witnessed a lot of skirmishes between counselors and addicts over deleting contacts from phones, seeing certain people, going certain places. This is all about removing temptation, in the view of this alcoholic, and while it’s important to help create the conditions that will be conducive to sobriety, this is tactical, this is not the work of recovery. The Big Book establishes the goal of being able to go anywhere in sobriety, not living from a map that has lots of “no-fly zones” or markings like, “Here be dragons.”
Deleting those contacts, avoiding triggers, that may help make the work of recovery easier, but again, forswearing alcohol, avoiding any place where it is in evidence (which is roughly everywhere), avoiding situations where other people are drinking, are not part of the Twelve Steps. I think this attitude sets up recovery as inherently “less than.” We alcoholics can’t go places other people can for fear of being triggered and letting the beast out again. We alcoholics can’t be trusted at weddings or conventions or parties, because, well, you know.
The famous “Acceptance” passage on page 417 of the Big Book, is technically not part of the original 164 pages and wasn’t written by Bill or any of the other early AA’s, but I think it provides a touchstone for life as a recovering/recovered alcoholic. The command of page 417 is pretty simple, when I feel discomfort, feel afraid or angry or upset, the thing that is most important is understanding why I feel this way, what I can do and how I can “accept” this situation.
In early sobriety, when I would get triggered, it wasn’t the fault of the non-alcoholics, I saw that discomfort as a sign that I still had work to do. The reason I started drinking as a teenager and kept it up alcoholically for 40 years was because I saw alcohol as an essential ingredient of myself. The sauce that was necessary to make this awkward, shy, proto-alcoholic seem palatable to others. In my view, as long as I was running from “people, places and things,” I was really running from myself.1
I used to spend a lot of time here in Las Vegas in the olden days. My work brought me here a fair amount. I don’t gamble and am not really attracted to much that goes on out here, but it was never Las Vegas that made me do anything. It was always me at the bottom of the glass, no matter where we were. I don’t know about you, my alcoholism was very portable and flourished in airport bars, hotel bars, etc. This was not because these are inherently great places to drink, it’s because they’re convenient, anonymous and you’re never alone when you’re drinking in an airport at 9:45am.
I can remember taking a trip to China in early sobriety and being very nervous about the prospect of being alone in an airport. But this was because I hadn’t done enough work yet, I drank to solve the feelings of apartness, and the shame and resentment that inspired, not because the Sauvignon Blanc was better at the airport.2
There is a ton of anger and regret and FOMO in early sobriety: “Why do they get to keep drinking?” I think if that question is the one bumping around inside the head, it might suggest a need to revisit some of the work around the First Step, which, if done correctly, ought to paint a pretty vivid answer to that question.In my case, those feelings weren’t generated by the all-around perniciousness of alcohol, they were simply examples of the self-dishonesty that enabled my drinking: “I’m not doing anything that other people aren’t doing, too.”
As part of the new gig, I’ve been dispatched here to begin the process of making new friends and influencing people (all potential clients). In the olden days, attending conferences like these was just a cover for a lot of drinking. Thousands of miles from home, thousands of people to help make me anonymous, lots of hotel bars where I’ll never be observed. To be fair, my behavior would have been the same in Akron as it was in Las Vegas, it was about me, not the people, places and things.
I took a long walk down the Strip last night, of course I stopped by a favorite and very downscale haunt, Treasure Island, the only pirate-themed hotel and casino that I’m aware of. The pirate theme doesn’t extend that far. There are the two fake pirate ships in front, but I sure wish that all of the staff was wearing pirate-like uniforms and that guests would be given complimentary hats and eye-patches upon check-in. Life can be full of disappointments.
As I walked last night, I ambled past a lot of places where I hid out and drank the day (or night) away. Since I was undercover, I had to choose out of the way places, like the Paris, Paris casino or some of the more downscale ones, like Treasure Island or Harrahs. It adds an element of surrealism to the whole endeavor, actually, more ridiculousness than anything else.
I’m excited to be here. I’m excited to be getting back out there, meeting people, lining up new projects and clients. I’m thrilled to be starting this new venture, even though a lot of friends are winding down and considering semi-permanent vacations. Not me. Also, people might be flocking to those not-very-piratey bars. Not me. I always say that the point of recovery is not just about overcoming a disease, it’s about finding myself. Recovering the version of me that didn’t believe drinking was necessary to make me, me.3
I was walking down the strip to meet two colleagues last night. I passed all of the old haunts. The memory of the days I spent in those places was not enticing. It mostly seemed sad and lonely and kind of desperate. That’s not how we roll these days. When I arrived at their hotel, they were celebrating their arrival in Vegas with glasses of champagne. I had my club soda and did not want for more.
This is not the consequence of some very effective aversion therapy or some counselor, “wrecking my drinking.” Sobriety allowed me to recover me. Sobriety allowed me to see that the lie that drove everything else was that I needed to drink to be like other people, to get other people to like me. To be sure, the people, places and things helped reinforce that idea, but they were not the source of that lie, I was. That’s why page 417 is so important, it reminds us that the answer is usually within.
In the olden days, I was very much a believer in the old “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” It had to, back then. But things are very different now. I may be staying in Vegas for a few days, but the good part is that what happens here, what happens everywhere I go, is that I get to be me and take it with me. There’s no more running away. And I don’t need a pirate-themed cocktail to do that.
If you’d like this idea expressed in a more friendly way, I would suggest “Guardians of the Galaxy 3.” I had a long flight yesterday.
It was usually terrible and, worse, often the only non-Chardonnay choice would be the dreaded and loathed Pinot Grigio.
Is that potentially a world record of sorts?
Love this! Thanks for sharing 😃