Once in the program, I quickly realized that I needed a complete and total transformation. Putting the plug in the jug wasn’t going to be enough; my insanity went somewhat deeper. That vacated space would require something other than alcohol to fill it. Otherwise, I’d be walking around on borrowed time, waiting for the pink cloud to dissipate.
Step 12: having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.
A practice was in place and I had a schedule, but more was necessary if I was to remain sober. Something beyond the printed word. Something beyond the meetings. Something beyond the fellowship. I needed to believe in a higher power. Which seemed easy enough: I believed in God and I went to church. However, my self-hatred and non-existent self-esteem made it impossible for me to trust that God was actually in my life, or even knew who I was, for that matter. I simply wasn’t important enough. I didn’t believe with the conviction and fervor that seem to be required to get into his good graces. And how exactly do I start seeing coincidences as acts of divine providence?
This is where my alcoholism really steps up its game. Being a thinking disease, it doesn’t take much convincing that it’s all hokum, this spirituality, and while it may work on others, I secretly knew that I’d never accumulate enough faith to become happy, joyous and free. I was special in that way. Different. Unique. Hopeless. Constitutionally incapable. Unwilling.
Today, I’m trying: To believe in something totally means dropping my defenses and putting down my sword. I need to be open and nonjudgmental, naked and vulnerable, and willing to do the next right thing, regardless of how it looks or feels.
It’s time to start greeting the day with love and acceptance, and stop worrying about the outcome.