I believe in the value of shared experiences. It’s one of the ways we can help one another. That’s why I like memoirs.
Charlie Sheen, in The Book of Sheen, talked a lot about his recovery experience, including AA.
With his “Charlie Harper” humor and his candidness, he referred to AA’s Big Book as a medieval book, called AA sponsors “morons,” and the people in rehab “lunatics.” He wrote about the meetings where everyone “robotically” says “Hi (insert your name here)” in unison after you introduce yourself. He didn’t like being asked to share and scoffed at the members holding hands to pray.
Personally, I have never liked that meetings felt like a pick-up bar without the bar, especially if you seemed to be new. Sometimes, too, when people share, you hear things you can’t get on board with and want to yell, “WHAT??!!”
Now writing this, I can just hear my old boss shouting, “I drink, but I hate those goddamn programs.” Well, if addiction to one thing or another isn’t wreaking havoc in your life, then none of this applies to you, so don’t worry.
The question is, can people who do have a problem quit drinking and using drugs without AA or NA? I believe they can do it however they want. At the same time, if they want the emotional sobriety that their addiction has taken away from them, they need to work on themselves, if not through a twelve-step program, then some other way.
But I’m going to defend twelve-step programs here because the creators of these programs truly understood the disease and the character defects an addict needs to work on. Oh, and that “medieval book” continues to offer so much wisdom. This is a program that provides you with a better design for living that includes responsibility, accountability, honesty, a downsized ego, an effective interdependence, and more.
Some of the AA practices can feel strange, yeah, especially for someone who is new, filled with fear and plagued by social anxiety. However, a lot of what addicts don’t like when they first arrive is exactly what gets them where they need to be. We are broken when we finally seek recovery. For some, it’s the first time they feel they belong somewhere and have people they can relate to or who can relate to them. Sharing and speaking helps them overcome their social anxiety or get some control over it. Over time, their confidence will increase, and they will feel better about themselves, rather than unworthy or less than. Of course, that’s the case because drinking and drugging makes you feel less inhibited. They help you feel more comfortable—that is until they don’t, or they get you in precarious situations.
You learn to heed advice, respect the rules, develop boundaries. People in the meetings may be sober, but they are still human and can be inappropriate to varying degrees. It’s why they tell women to stick with the women and men to stick with the men—at least until you get your bearings.
Sure, you will hear things you don’t like, don’t agree with, but you will hear good stuff, too. A lot of good stuff. And that’s why they advise you to “Keep what’s worth keeping.” There’s a quote by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik that says: Keep what is worth keeping and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away. The breath of kindness may not always be possible, but restraint will often do.
I did laugh when Charlie mentioned the holding hands at the end. I felt that way even when I went to church back in the day, and it came time to turn around and offer one another the sign of peace while shaking hands. It’s not the holding or shaking hands that I dread. And it certainly isn’t offering peace to others—that’s beautiful. But there’s a pressure I’d feel when those moments were about to happen in a group setting. It was the anticipation of that moment because while I was actually holding hands in an AA meeting or shaking hands in church, I was fine. It’s the same feeling you get before it’s your turn to share or speak. People who know me well wouldn’t think chatting could ever make me nervous. So, what I described here could have some link to social anxiety, maybe the fear of how people will respond—that is, if they respond at all and don’t leave you hanging. I don’t know. Whatever it is, I hate it, too.
And I hate meetings! I’m not going to lie. My son used to make fun of me when I’d say I’m going to start going to meetings again. He knew when I came back, I’d be shaking my head. It’s a me thing.
So, at 30 years sober and clean, I am an advocate of what has worked for so many people, what has saved countless lives. It’s beautiful to watch people grow and evolve in sobriety. We learn how to be of service in this world. Many find the courage to face their traumas and demons and begin to heal in ways they never thought possible. Through all of that comes clarity, gratitude, and much, much more.
So, even if you quit meetings because you hate them, you can keep working the program or simply work on YOU. Look around at what’s happening everywhere. We could use more people who are grounded in emotional sobriety.
The sun rises with
Foreboding crow caws,
While the day brings
Sirens of uncertainty.
Allergies persist.
Well, for the lilac pansies,
The snapdragons,
And the daffodils…
Oh, and the tulips in all colors,
Beautiful and bold.
We see the sun
From behind the glass.
We hear the rain.
Upstairs, there is music.
He’s singing—
Playing guitar.
Below we talk like survivors
Of dystopian madness
Taking shelter in a cave.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Are you?”
“Yes.”
The days are longer.
Open windows let in the breeze.
Outside, the trees are tall and proud.
With all their flowers,
Cherries,
And leaves.
Yet we—
We are powerless,
Our illusion of safety
Violated once more.
Oh, but the birds chirp in a frenzy!
Come play.
The earth is alive!
We need to laugh and
To cry.
Everything is tragic
And beautiful.
But some have no one to talk to,
Little, if anything, to eat,
No way to get well,
And nowhere to hide.
Others rise to an occasion
They never could have fathomed,
Working toward their lifelong dream
With infinite empathy.
Does it wreak desolation?
We don’t even know the extent
Of how harsh life can be.
People die for greed.
Dreaded knock on the door now.
No one should come here—
Maybe not for a while.
Uneasy eyes
Behind masked faces.
Down the stairwells then,
One flight at a time,
I go beyond the door,
Where the world is.
Experience it once more,
For a short time.
The sun is bright
Across a vivid blue sky.
There’s the scent of fresh-cut grass
And the sweet caress of the wind.
It’s like a summer day
With pillowy clouds
And butterflies.
The world’s magnificent beauty.
Then it’s back to the safe place.
Do you have one of those?
A safe place to be?
I hope you do.
Because the stars are still there at night,
Like the glorious moon.
I watch them as I hope
Things get better.
Like they always did before,
At least, for a little while.
). Romantic relationships were usually complicated since I gave so much to writing and didn’t want to make that same type of investment in potential partners.
That work began years ago and continues to this day.
D.K. Sanz 