Spiritual Surgery
AT 49, after nearly three decades of serious drinking, I was done. What initially seemed the ideal solution for the “…restless, irritable, and discontented…” (BB p.xxviii) state of mind so accurately described in the Big Book, had insidiously, almost imperceptibly, turned into regular habit. Then, functional alcoholism until in the final few years, alcohol became my master. I lost my job of ten years, my driving licence; police were called to my house regularly. There were nights in the cells, a conviction for drink driving, and a marriage on the verge of collapse. A life on the streets seemed inevitable. I spent days and nights drinking alone in the kitchen and passing out on the sofa, having tried every self-motivated avenue. I went assiduously to the drug and alcohol counselling service for 18 months. However, the truth was even though I knew I needed to stop, the thought of life without a drink was terrifying. In the end, at my lowest point, a friend already in AA saw me on the street and introduced me to the people from what is now my home group.
They were going for coffee after the meeting. They were happy, self-assured and confident but also sober – what a thing! I wanted what they had, and it was enough to get me into the Rooms where, as advised, I got a big Book and started taking the Steps under the guidance of my sponsor. There were a number of daily actions suggested – praying for a sober day in the morning, ringing newcomers and other group members and asking how they were doing, ringing my sponsor at a set time, writing a gratitude list, and thanking God for a sober day. I went to three meetings a week and things began to brighten up in a matter of days. After taking Step Three, I began to feel a certain peace of mind, I was almost content and somehow knew that I didn’t have to drink. A new and better life was slowly revealing itself to me. Then came the hard yards of Steps Four and Five. It has been said that the bones of alcoholics lie between Steps Three and Four. I have seen too many people leave at this point in my few years in the Rooms to offer any contradiction.
I took guidance from the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, and from my sponsor. After an initial failure to grasp the idea that Step Four was about my defects, not those of others, I set about it with a certain grim determination. After the realisation that I was not the hard-done-by paragon of virtue and bonhomie I had generally imagined myself to be, came the crushing blow. I was a deeply selfish, dishonest, arrogant and self-centred character suffering from a delusion of adequacy. This was where my friends in the Fellowship helped greatly, they showed and shared how they had “…got out from under.” (BB p.152) I was given service, the oar which enables us to row with the others in the lifeboat. I was told, and read in the Big Book, that I should now make a serious attempt to clear away the wreckage, not only of my own life, but to truly understand the harm I had done to others. Step Eight was the answer.
In taking Step Eight, we actively put ourselves in the place of the other person we had harmed, asking “How would I feel if this was done to me?” We do not mitigate or make excuses for our behaviour. In writing our list we use serious words such as appalled, devastated, grief-stricken, heart-broken, bereft, and furious. In many of our entries this brings about the understanding and realisation that making amends wherever possible can be the only real way to heal broken relationships. In so doing we allow our Higher Power to continue to heal us. In writing out our Step Eight, perhaps for first time we start to make a serious attempt to keep our side of the street clean, irrespective of others’ behaviour toward us. However, we must become willing to make amends. In some cases, becoming willing is easier said than done; often where the person harmed has done some real or perceived harm to us. In my case it was a family member who I had had a difficult relationship with, especially in my teenage years.
There had been episodes of violence and many a harsh word spoken between us. I had effectively cut them off and we had not spoken for several years. I was angry, hurt and ashamed, but I could not bring myself to forgive them. The Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions remind us of the case of the pot and the kettle – both are equally scorched. I had hurt my relative emotionally with words and manipulation just as badly as I had been hurt. I had nurtured my own resentment and allowed it to grow and fester over a lifetime. It needed deep spiritual surgery. It took me two years to finally make amends, after many prayers for that person’s health and happiness. Finally, either God (as I understand Him) took matters into His own hands, or I had surrendered the matter enough to His care for him to act. A family funeral put us unexpectedly in the same pew, and standing next to them I felt a real compassion I never had during my childhood and years of drinking. I knew with absolute certainty that I was willing.
I made my amends in the churchyard; it was received with thoughtfulness, a few tears {mostly mine) and a quiet acceptance. Our relationship is healing, it has its ups and downs, but we are both able to put the past behind us and in general, there is much laughter and real connection when we meet up. Willingness was the key, but I needed God’s help and a Fellowship in AA to find it.
MIKE F, Plymouth