Rejection, and Control

At times, dealing with an alcoholic is like trying to capture smoke with our hand - it billows out of our grasp, and wafts away in the cold night air.

The resistance of an alcoholic is like no other - we are presented with a smooth, bland, featureless wall of indifference, and understand that we are speaking to a mind firmly closed and barred against us. We are refused entry, and refused with a coldness which can leave us shivering in pain and sorrow.

All the understanding in the world about their pain, shame and  misery, does not make it one jot easier to be facing that wall, with our dreadful feelings of futility and powerlessness.

I have a choice, I can stand pounding on the wall and insisting that I be given entry, or I can turn to someone who has never yet refused me comfort - my Higher Power. I can go find my little dog, who is always welcoming, and will emerge sleepily from her nest of blanket on the couch to lick my face, and snuggle into my sweater.

I can choose to seek love from someone who is able and willing to give it, rather than continue to try to force my will upon the alcoholic, who for whatever reason, has shut me out. Much as I may find it painful and infuriating to be rejected, the other person has the right to behave however they choose, whether kind or unkind, and I am far better served by acceptance, and going elsewhere, than by trying to make them talk or listen to me.

Acceptance is not always a serene and peaceful alternative, it can also be a painful choice. I want to live in reality. This means accepting the limits of those I love, and facing the truth about their, and my, human frailties.

Love is love, it matters not from whom it flows, it feels the same. I can call an Al-Anon friend, I can hug my dog, I can seek out my Higher Power. Or, I can stand weeping and wailing and wallowing in self-pity. (I've done the latter many times, until I tired of it.) Part of working our program, is deciding to do things differently, just to see if maybe all the people at the meeting are telling us the truth after all. As I've heard a million times in 12-step: If I make the same choices I've always made, I will get the same results I've always gotten. I am the only way who can choose differently for my life.

Listen and Learn

I love this slogan. It speaks to the part of me that can be judgemental, unaccepting, or critical. I was raised in a family with a very critical worldview. Everyone was measured, and either accepted or dismissed, based upon certain criteria such as education, financial stability, place in society. People were either above us, to be fawned over, or below us, to be objects of contempt. Because I was adopted, and had some vague idea of my origins, I had a suspicion that I belonged in the second group, and felt ashamed in my deepest inner self.

Al-Anon, in contrast, teaches that each of us is worthy, and each of us has something valuable, meaningful, and helpful to share.

People with whom I might never spend time outside of meeting rooms, can be the very ones who express a thought which gives the lens through which I see life, a sharp twist. Suddenly, the foreground of the picture blurs, some part of the background comes into sharp focus, and I gasp to realise what is revealed.

I have had this happen repeatedly in meetings. I don't know if it is the fact that we have so little in common that makes their sharing so powerful in its ability to illuminate, or just how this works; I only know it does.

I'm so grateful for this. It has taught me to listen uncritically. I can do the sorting-through later on, right now, sitting at the table, I keep an open mind. When a thought is handed to me, looking like a muddy stone, I accept it with appreciation, and sit shining it up on my shirt, just in case it happens to be a treasure. As it so often is.

People-Pleasing

I suffer from this; at times, to a ridiculous degree. I will go out to eat with a friend, have a craving for a salad, then allow myself to be talked into sharing an order of something I never eat - deep-fried whatever - that I don't want, and won't enjoy.

Why do I do this? With some people, I find it easy to say, "I don't like such-and-such" - those are the people whose response to that statement will be, "Oh, ok." It's the pressurers I have such a hard time resisting. The manipulators.

The ones who make repeated wistful comments about how they just love deep-fried whatever, but a full order is too big, and wouldn't I like to share it with them, I can eat salad anytime, and deep-fried whatever is so good...I'm well aware of the expected response, and I'll start to feel myself caving.

I'll try to withstand it by stating my yearning for a salad several times, but reiterated plaintive remarks chip away at my resolve. I begin rationalising, "Oh it's only this one time, and the other person really wants this, and how important is it, and why be selfish, and it's only one meal..." and before I know it, they are happily eating something dripping with grease, while I eat the tiny bit of vegetable (put on the plate purely as decoration,) and wonder why on earth I agreed to this?

I find it immensely difficult to stand my ground with some people. I can withstand outright bullying with greater ease than soft pleading. Why is this? I believe because bullying demands, and I can see the demand for what it is, and refuse with no feelings of guilt. (Or very few.)

Manipulators plead and wheedle, play on my guilt feelings, and imply, "You can please me, and be a good friend, by giving me what I want." (A friend's young son once offered me the piece of cheese from his sandwich, with the remark, "I think I'd like you, if you eat this for me." The same basic message, just more upfront.)
What is this really kind of self-abnegation really about? Why would I agree to eat something I don't like? I believe it has to do with my ego, and the other person offering me two reflections of myself, one is generous and self-sacrificing, and a good friend, the other is selfish and greedy, and a bad friend. (I'm exaggerating for effect here, but this is how manipulation works.)

If I am having a good day, I can detach from either of those choices, and choose my own self-image. Days like that, I'm impervious to manipulation, because I recognise it for what it is. On my bad days, when I'm in HALT, or not feeling well, or out-of-sorts for whatever reason, my self-image tends to be a bit shakier, and my desire for approval is much stronger.
12-step helps me to be willing to investigate these aspects of my character, share them with another person, and with any luck, have a good laugh about it.
I can use my sponsor's reply for most requests - "I'll have to get back to you on that." It gives me breathing room, without someone's hopeful gaze affecting my reasoning process. But that doesn't work very well in a restaurant situation, so what are my choices?

I can be aware that this person is someone who is skilled at manipulating me. Call them on it. If I'm not comfortable doing that - pay attention; try to stand my ground, and ignore the clamorings of my ego. If I cave, accept my frailties, and try for a better result next time. That's all I can do, and that's enough.

Alcoholism Is A Disease

We can feel resistant to this fact, because we have so much accumulated anger, and resentments, old and new, all seething and bubbling within. I know I felt aggrieved at the suggestion that my alcoholics were suffering from a disease, because it felt like that "let them off the hook" for all their ghastly behavior.
Then I came across this line in the ODAT, page 58:

"When I ask: "Why does he drink when he knows it damages him and his family?" I really mean: "How can he justify what he is doing?" implying a condemnation I have no right to make.

Ouch. That was one of those stickleburr thoughts from program, it glued itself into my brain, and just couldn't be pulled free. I'd catch myself thinking along my usual condemnatory lines, and into my head would pop that line from the book again. I felt quite annoyed, as it made it impossible for me to feel the same self-righteous indignation and contempt, which had previously bolstered my arguments against the alcoholics.

I justified my own unacceptable behavior by pointing to theirs.

When I surrendered to the truth that they were suffering from an addiction that they had no more control over, than I did with cigarettes, I began to feel compassion. That was very painful. My sponsor, who also smoked, asked me once how I felt when someone, anyone, suggested I needed to quit smoking. I replied that I was immediately overwhelmed with a (sulkily) powerful desire for a cigarette.

She asked, could it then be possible that my extensive sermons upon why the alcoholic should quit drinking, inspired the same result? So wasn't I then, actually achieving the opposite of what I'd intended with my preaching? If all my yarping just made them want to drink, what was the point?

I felt irritated with her for that observation, but the next time I was moved to begin my usual rant, I thought of her comment, and stopped, because really, what was the point? We were well aware of all that I was about to say, I'd said it so many times already; they could most likely recite it along with me, word-for-word. I stopped, sighed, smiled, and said nothing.

In such small increments, do we learn to work our program.

Working The Program

What does this mean? I like the explanation from the ODAT book, page 45:

"What does working the program mean? It means to attend meetings faithfully, to read some Al-Anon literature every day, and to apply what we learn to our everyday living. And very important, it means sharing with others what we are learning and using, and accepting with an open mind what they share with us."

And:

"I will not look to others to do my work for me while I'm "too busy" or "too tired" to do my reading and attend meetings and keep in touch with my fellow members. Al-Anon can do much for me, but I must help, too."

I learned to force myself to attend my meetings, no matter how tired I was, and even if I felt I should be doing something else instead - I sometimes felt as though I had to get behind myself and shove myself out the door towards the car. I might be moaning quietly with exhaustion, and cursing the traffic, but I was heading towards my meeting, and no matter how debilitated I may have felt when I started the drive, by the time I was pulling into the parking lot of whatever church, I would already be feeling better, just knowing what was ahead.

Experience had taught me, even at that early stage - when I went to a meeting, it helped me. I felt better. I would be walking back out to my car after the meeting ended, feeling calmed: empowered to face another day. I slept more peacefully; I awoke the next morning with hope instead of despair.

I also learned to read my daily reading book each morning with my first coffee, so that my (slowly awakening) mind was flooded with 12-step philosophy to sweeten my day. When life was stressing me, and I began to feel that knot of tension roiling in my stomach, I learned to get my book and search the index for whatever topic seemed to fit my present anxiety, read one or two, or sometimes all, of those readings, and calm myself that way. There were instances when that didn't work for me, I had waited too long, and had wound myself up too far for reading to help.

I learned to pick up the phone and go down the call list, starting with those I'd talked to in the past, and if none of those people were available, to call the next person, even if I'd never spoken to them outside a meeting. If they were on the list, they were willing to take calls - when I was frenzied, I just wanted a person to talk to, who it was didn't matter, as long as they were in Al-Anon.

I learned that 12-step is like anything else in life - we must practise, in order to become skilled. That means we do it willingly, accepting that we will make a mess of it the first few times, then we will gain some confidence and it will be tidier and neater, and soon, almost before we realise, it will be our new habit. When that happens, we will gain the serenity we are promised.

For me, working my program was like parallel parking - I couldn't believe I'd ever learn how to get my large car into that very small space - I had to take it on faith that if I followed the instructions, paid attention to what I was doing, and practised, I could. I do it now, without really thinking about it, because I have practised it to the point where it's second nature. Program, too, can very quickly become blissful habit.

We get out of life, and out of 12-step, just as much as we are willing to put in.

Letting Go of The Outcome

A family member has to go to civil court tomorrow, to present a case against a deadbeat customer.  I have long since turned over the outcome of this to God - back when they first filed the papers, I think I let go of the outcome. They are worrying, trying to prepare for all eventualities, and trying to consider every possible question the judge might ask.

I am so grateful for Al-Anon, I could never have sailed through this sort of situation with such ease and serenity, were I left to my own devices, with no program tools. On the contrary, I'd have driven us both insane worrying. I probably wouldn't have been able to sleep, and I'd have resented anyone who could. I'd have been on that gerbil wheel day and night.

This court case has allowed me to see just how far I've come in the program, and in my recovery, because I'm so calm and relaxed about it. I have no control over the judge, and stressing myself halfway to insanity ahead of time, isn't going to change that.

The outcome is up to God. I trust His decision. What a wonderful feeling. I can go on with my daily life, and have faith that it will work out as it is intended to. No help from me required. I can go work in my garden, or on the stained glass on my workbench, and let the rest go.

I realised this morning, I have achieved a level of freedom in Al-Anon, I wouldn't have thought possible for someone with my personality, and behavior patterns.

Keep coming back, it works! (If you work it.)

Why Is Step Four So Frightening?

Why do so many of us, when facing our first "searching and fearless moral inventory," find the mere idea unnerving? Why is the concept of looking clearly at ourselves, with no justifying, no rationalising, such a daunting prospect?

I heard at a meeting recently, "I'm afraid I'll find out I'm not a nice person."

Isn't that true for most of us? We're terrified that if we dig around within, we will find only rot - extensive decay, and things unrecognisable as human, with a stench powerful enough to peel wallpaper. (Reminds me of a bachelor friend, who, when asked what a questionable container in his fridge held, replied, "Don't throw that out, that's my science project! I'm growing blue fur.")

Aren't we terrified that our core beliefs in our own intrinsic lack of worth, will only be strengthened and proven, if we do a Step 4? Don't we carry a quiet terror that all the horrid verbal abuse heaped upon us over the years may be true, and that this will become evident to "ourselves, to God and to another human being" when we move further along in the process, to Step 5?

We may have been unkind, we may even have said or done that for which we now feel ashamed, but we aren't evil, and we won't find out that we aren't nice people. On the contrary, considering the fear and trembling with which many of us approached our first moral inventory, we come out the other side breathing a huge sigh of alleviation, laughing a bit in giddy relief.

We discover that we've been bound and triggered by our pasts; we've made choices we can now understand, worked against us. We've been impatient, we've been angry, we've been childish, we've been a myriad of character defects, but we've still been only human, with all the attendant human frailties.

Al-Anon is teaching us to love ourselves, in our entirety: not just the small acceptable pieces we are willing to display in the front parlour, where nobody sits, but also the ratty old pieces worn to a fade by years of overuse, on the back porch, where the dog sleeps.