Helping Men Recover from Addiction by Dan Griffin – Tools for recovery from alcohol & other drugs

A picture that I love shows two scenes: one of Heaven and one of Hell. In Hell, everyone is seated at a table with grossly elongated spoons that they simply cannot fit into their mouths. In Heaven, everyone is seated at a very similar table with the same exact elongated spoons. The only difference? They are feeding one another from across the table. If you see the world as a place in which you never have enough, you will always be trying to meet your needs but without success. Seeking to fulfill only your needs is like digging a bottomless pit. There is no happiness to be found on that path. In reality, you have everything you need right now.

Of course, it is easy to say we have everything we need but truly believing it is another story. We have been programmed to want – more and more. We have been programmed to believe that we are somehow incomplete or less than if we do not have certain things. So long as I am in search of that which will make me happy and fill me up I am seeking on behalf of my self. It is through the program of recovery and learning to be of service that I get to discover the paradox that when I reach out to you, I get connection; when I give to you, I get; and when I seek to be of service to help you in your journey toward happiness, I am filled.

Are men naturally self-centered? Sure. Are women? Yes, though they may express it differently. What does it even mean to be self-centered? Mostly, it seems to mean that we are human. We are more worried about ourselves than others. We focus more on our problems – real and imagined – and any of the drama that goes along with them. And even those of us who are more focused on others and their problems are often doing it so that we can get something out of it – feel better than the other person, feel better about ourselves, or any number of other machinations that sometimes belie the seeming selflessness of others. What is clear is that few people are as focused on themselves as we addicts are – focused on our pain, on our needs, and our wants. What we deserve and what we will never get. Fear often seems to be at the root of it. Fear has an amazing ability to convince me that what is not real is real. The more I focus on how I feel and the thoughts inside of my head, by definition, the more self-centered I become. While self-awareness is critical to my recovery, self obsession is disastrous for it. It does not matter how long I have been in recovery – should I start to worship my emotion-driven perception of the world then I will inevitably be inviting unnecessary suffering into my life.

The road to misery begins in the self. The discipline of working the Steps and applying the principles to our lives teach us how to be selfless in our service to others. What does it mean to be of service? Being of service is sacrificing our immediate needs and wants in order to serve a greater purpose. Every time I do this – without exception – I forget about myself and my petty, annoying, and peevish problems. One of the best, and probably hardest, ways to be of service is to go out of our way for others – with no expectation of acknowledgment or reward. Maybe we even do it anonymously. But in recovery something happens – sometimes in spite of ourselves – and we lose interest in our selfish pursuits and gain interest in our fellows. We realize that the freedom of recovery lies in our commitment to service and that which is bigger than us. We are not saints, however, as they say; it often takes a long time to eliminate all of the cancer of self-centeredness. But we grow and our world expands as we join hands with those around us. We get to be a part of the community once again.

To say that many men who are addicted to alcohol and other drugs suffer from low self-esteem is an understatement. But what does that really mean? We talk about the egomaniac with the inferiority complex – a term that many men in recovery seem to identify with. This is the idea that at the same time I think I am God’s gift to women I also think I am unattractive and no woman would like me. Vacillating from vanity to self-loathing; arrogance to lack of confidence. For men especially, the front that we put on often belies the fear and insecurity hiding underneath. Many of us have a soundtrack running deep inside of us telling us we are useless, unlovable, or some other lie. For me, my perception has always been a bit off. The problem is that I have listened to that soundtrack and even sought it out for far too long.

Nothing positive comes from the times we dance with self-pity much of which is rooted in our excessive focus on ourselves. And it may surprise you to know that one of the most arrogant acts is when you see yourself as useless. When we make ourselves useful, despite any voices telling us that nobody likes us or wants us around, we conquer the feeling of uselessness. When we focus on others’ needs before our own and are grateful for all that we have, especially another day of sobriety, we conquer the feeling of self-pity. I can always find something in my life that is missing; someone who has more than I do, seems to be more successful, or who I think is better than I. But, I can only find those deficiencies if I look for them.

Each of us has a purpose in life, but our addiction made it next to impossible to know what it is. When I have gratitude for another day sober and look back at the incredible life that I have been given, there is no way I can feel sorry for myself. When I look at how I can be of service to those in my life and stop worrying about me and my petty annoying peevish problems, I see how those thoughts of uselessness and feelings of self-pity are nothing more than a lie. As you free yourself from your addiction, you have, at last, a chance to find your true purpose in life. When I focus on God’s will for me and how God wants to use me there is no way I can see my life as useless.

The hallmark of Twelve-Step recovery is sharing our experience, strength, and hope. This, of course, implies that you have something worth sharing. Regardless of how I acted and how much people complimented me on my talent and skills, I often felt as though I had little to nothing to offer. So, when I found myself at six months sober sitting with Gene, another newcomer, telling him my story I had to quiet the voice inside of me that was constantly diminishing me. Telling me I did not belong and never would. Telling me that I had nothing to offer. I decided to take a risk and open up to him because he was newly sober and he looked lost. Underneath the scowl and the sarcasm, he looked lost.

Gene stood out like a sore thumb in the small Virginia town. He was even younger than I, who until then was the youngest in the club – by far – at the age of 21. He had bleached-blond hair cut in a flat-top style, wore gold chains, listened to gangsta rap, and was from up north (read: A Yankee). The blue-haired teetotalers might as well have been talking to an alien. And then he had the nerve to refer to himself as “cross-addicted” because he had also used pills. But he was still just another suffering addict in need of love and compassion. Despite the fear, I reached out my hand. We began to talk and he opened up as if he had been getting ready to burst for some time.

Later that week I drove him back to his mother and step-father’s home after going out to the local diner with some of our “sober crew” after the meeting. I told him my experience up to that point and how I had gotten into the program. I had no idea what I was doing but I had been told that all I had to do was tell him what it was like for me. Surprisingly, when we were done talking and I was leaving Gene thanked me. I can still remember the visceral reaction of confusion as to why he was thanking me. I had just spent the last two hours thinking of someone other than myself. And, he had listened to me. I should have been thanking him! As I drove away I realized there was value to my story – I had something real to offer another suffering human being. And, it felt good. That is the gift we are given when we take the risk and reach out to another man who is drowning. I have since shared my story – my heart and soul – with many others and it is always the same: they thank me and I thank them for helping me to stay sober one more day.

I was seven years old standing in the basement telling my father I wished I had never been born. What can be going on in a child’s life that these words would come out of his mouth at such a young age? While it took me many more years to name it, growing up in a violent alcoholic home takes an immense toll on a child. And so I found myself having lost touch with any sense of serenity and peace. I learned quickly how to hide the pain and despair with a smile.

You can learn how to feel safe enough to give voice to the pain you carry with you. When I have no internal peace it is too easy to project my inner chaos onto the world around me. Peace comes from the inside. A lot of us have likely spent much of our lives dealing with – or not dealing with – conflict and anger. Some of it internal and some of it external. You can learn how, after years of being controlled by your anger, to make it work for you. When you do this, the outside world changes as if it has been magically repainted by an invisible artist’s hand. Suddenly the world that seemed so hostile and scary is a place of wonder and awe.

When we accept ourselves, others, and the world around us as they are, we will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. When we see ourselves for who we are not for what we have done or what we do, we will know peace. When we stop fighting everything and everyone we will know peace. When we surrender to the mystery of life and live each moment to its fullest we will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace.

Final Comment: This promise says “comprehend” and “know” – it does not say that we will always be serene and peaceful. It simply says that we will, once again, know what it feels like to be at peace with this world and we will learn that it is our decision as to whether the world ever becomes a hostile and scary place again.

What man does not want to make peace with his past?

How many of us enter recovery with a deep feeling of shame for how we have lived?

How many of us are confused about what we have done and what that might mean about who we are?

In recovery, you have the incredible opportunity to connect with men through the sharing of your past experiences. This Promise tells us we should not want to shut the door on the past. What is done, is done – no amount of self-abuse can erase it. When we embrace our past and learn how to see it in a new way it opens new doors for the future – and for forgiveness.

You may have heard the saying, “Those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it.” That is one of the main reasons we are told to remember our last time using. This Promise tells us we can face our past, not live in shame about it, and not runaway from or deny it. Our past does not have to define us, who we are, or how we live our lives. We see this Promise come alive every time the haggard newcomer whose soul has been ripped apart stands up with his hand out welcoming another. We see this Promise come alive every time someone from the recovery community tells his story with his head held high. We see this Promise come alive every time we share with another that which we think separates us and even is proof that we do not deserve to be part of the human community.

There is the time-tested saying that we “are as sick as our secrets.” The secrets we carry around with us that weigh us down. The same secrets that we promised we would take with us to our grave. We can be free, truly free, from the chains of the past that haunt us. There is nothing – absolutely nothing – that you have done that cannot be forgiven. And, you never know how God is going to use you and your past to transform another’s suffering. There is nothing that God cannot work with to make this world a little better.

Once, at a Fourth of July concert, the singer asked if anyone in the crowd knew freedom and how valuable it truly is. My first reaction was that I didn’t. Then, I realized I did have an appreciation of freedom – because I knew the bondage having been chained to my addiction. As I thought about it more, it wasn’t just the freedom that sobriety from alcohol and other drugs offers. It was the freedom I find in knowing that I can actually choose how to live my life. I can choose each action I take and I can be responsible for every action and its consequence. I am free to live my life the way I see fit and I do not have to let others or society – even my recovery community – tell me what that has to be. And because of that freedom I am able to be a part of the human community in a way that I never thought possible. And that freedom is one of the keys to finding happiness.

Few people today seem to know what happiness is. We feel a fleeting rush and confuse that with happiness. We give others the power to make us happy – and therefore also the power to make us miserable. We believe that satisfying the bottomless desires within us will bring us happiness. We think happiness is something we should just expect and are disappointed, and even resentful, when it does not come to us as a gift from the Heavens. “After all,” we say “I am sober…don’t I deserve happiness?”

What has been most difficult has been admitting when I was not happy. It almost feels there is this unspoken obligation to be happy in recovery – paint on a happy face. I see it all of the time – as if having problems or being unhappy somehow means you are not doing your recovery “right.” Painting on that happy face gets me drunk. In my tenth year of sobriety I admitted I was not very happy in most of the areas of my life. As a result I was exposed to the possibility of true happiness. I gave myself permission to stop pretending. Today, I do know happiness, and that it comes through the “right living” laid out in the Twelve Steps – and that happiness is not an end in itself.

Promise #1 : If we are painstaking about this phase of our development we will be amazed before we are halfway through.

When you are painstaking, or careful, it means that through the pain, disappointment, and suffering caused by reining in your ego, you do not give up. You pick up the phone instead of the drink or whatever addiction is destroying your life. You ask for help instead of isolating yourself. You tell on yourself to your sponsor or in a meeting, even if it means your voice is shaking and your heart is ready to jump out of your chest. Regardless of how much sobriety you have you tell the truth about yourself and risk being known.

The Promises live in the present moment.Whatever phase of growth and development you are in – and if you are painstaking about your efforts – you will be amazed before you are halfway through. There is no clear marker telling you when you are halfway – not in the existential sense. There is when you are halfway through with your amends but if you believe, as I believe, that the Promises apply to life then “the halfway point” is constantly moving. Just as we are – either going forward or going backward. As you set out upon the path and trudge your way to happy destiny, you will be amazed at the vision of the mountaintop from miles away. You rest and take in the beauty of this glorious site of God’s creation. And then, you return to the stony path and continue to trudge, knowing that it is the journey itself which is the greatest reward – not the mountaintop.

Before the authors of the book share the 9th Step Promises with us, there is an important declaration: As God’s children we stand on our feet; we don’t crawl before anyone. I have always believed the Promises begin with this sentence. Why? Because in our sobriety men are vulnerable to hiding the shame of our behavior while active in our addictions in numerous unhealthy ways. In fact, shame seems to be at the heart of many of our worst secrets and our worst behaviors. Shame is a very powerful emotion; it can control our lives long into our recovery. At this point of our recovery we need to hear that we do not have to be servile or fawning in our attempts to right our wrongs. We do not have to accept unacceptable behavior nor walk around with our tails between our legs. We deserve love and happiness as much as those who we are approaching.

My wife, Nancy, and I were talking the other night and she asked me: “Is there anything positive about shame?” I am not sure if there is. But there is no question that shame destroys men’s lives – piecemeal. And when men’s lives are destroyed women’s and children’s lives are often part of the collateral damage. Every time we share a secret or a part of ourselves we have been hiding, we move further from shame and take one more step into the community.

Stand tall knowing that you have been willing to take responsibility for the pain you have caused in your community. Despite what we have done we belong. There is nothing – absolutely nothing – we can do to lose our divine birthright as God’s children. And so, this prelude to the Promises is what tells us that, despite everything that we have done, we deserve the Promises to come true in our lives as much as anyone. And that is a tough thing for many of us to believe. It is a lot easier to believe the lies that shame is constantly whispering in our ears – and sometimes even screaming. But you belong – and you deserve to be a part of the community.

One of the chapters of my book that did not make the “final cut” was on The Promises – these golden words of the twelve step community that serve as a beacon to so many coming through the rooms of recovery. In the next twelve (or so) entries to my blog I will be reflecting on the meaning the Promises hold to so many men in recovery. Enjoy! And please comment and share with others. Thanks, Dan

The Promises

The Promises have a special place in my heart simply because of the role that they have played in my life. Yes, it is true these are only some of the many promises in the Big Book; though, it is also true that nowhere else in the Big Book are there twelve promises presented in such a beautiful vision of what is waiting for you in sobriety. The Promises hold such a valuable place for so many men and our recovery in the twelve step community because of the powerful statement of hope that they offer. In the context of the Big Book, The Promises begin to play a role when you are making your Step Nine amends. What is more humbling than the first time you approach those you have harmed and offer yourself in the spirit of peace and personal accountability? For men in our culture, admitting to mistakes seems like admitting that we are “weak.” Our humility, however, is the mark of a real man.

When I was young and just coming into recovery, I read these words on pages 83 and 84 and saw for the first time what my life could be some day. In the midst of my deep insecurity, shame, fear, and hopelessness, these words were a beacon shining through the mist and rain. I took very seriously the fact that they are called the Promises, not the Maybes or the Might Happens. I went to meetings where men and women talked about how The Promises had come true in their life and so I held onto them as a covenant between me and the fellowship. They have come true for me. And, they will come true for you, too – so long as you are willing to do the work.