If  I  had  to  explain  to  somewhat  what  alcoholism  means  to  me  today,  I’d  use  the  statement  in  the book,  ‘a  disease  of  the  body,  a  problem  of  the  mind.’    Two  complementary  conditions  that  work together  to  make  a  potent  cocktail  of  denial,  delusion,  destruction  and  despair.    I  didn’t  want  to accept  I  had  either  condition  at  the  start.    My  problem  wasn’t  my  drinking.    It  was  you.    It  was  my wife.    It  was  my  job.    It  was  my  lot  in  life.    I  had  the  best  of  intentions  for  the  world.    If  everything would  go  my  way,  I’d  not  need  to  drink.    Alcohol  wasn’t  my  problem.    It  was  my  solution.    Over  20 years   ago,   my   younger   self   explained   what   it’s   like   to   drink   to   someone   who   had   never   drunk before.    “It’s  like  walking  into  a  quiet  room.”    And  for  most  of  my  drinking  time,  alcohol  was  my quiet  room.    Somewhere  I  could  go  when  things  got  out  of  control  in  my  life. But  over  the  years,  my  inability  to  control  my  drinking  took  on  greater  proportions.    I’d  want  it  all the  time.    Every  occasion  was  an  opportunity  to  drink.    Then  I  couldn’t  control  the  frequency  and time  I  wanted  to  drink.    I’d  drink  in  the  mornings.        I’d  tell  myself  I  could  handle  just  one  more.    Then I’d  stop  to  care  what  happened  with  just  one  more.    I’d  do  stupid  things  while  under  the  influence.    I

started  to  black  out  and  forget  what  I’d  done.    There  are  occasions  to  this  day  I  still  don’t  know  what happened. In  hindsight  I  can  see  the  two  conditions  were  ever  present  in  my  past.    The  inability  to  control  my drinking  once  I  started.    The  overwhelming  desire  to  start  drinking  anywhere,  anyhow,  anytime,  any-­‐ why.    Having  had  some  sobriety,  it’s  so  clear  to  me  now.    My  experience  says  I  am  a  person  who consistently:

1. Physically  responds  to  alcohol  by  craving  more 2. Defaults  to  a  belief  that  my  drinking  is  controllable

That’s  my  condition  as  it  relates  to  alcohol.    I  can  relate,  when  the  Big  Book  says,  ‘the  idea  that somehow,  someday  he  will  control  and  enjoy  his  drinking  is  the  great  obsession  of  every  abnormal drinker.    The  persistence  of  this  illusion  is  astonishing.    Many  pursue  it  into  the  gates  of  insanity  or death.” I’ve  found  in  recovery  that  owning  up  and  accepting  my  disease  of  the  body  and  problem  of  the mind  was  a  huge  first  step.    Nobody  does  like  to  say  they  have  a  disease.    I  certainly  don’t,  and  even today,  when  I  speak  of  my  alcoholism  as  a  disease,  it  still  makes  me  uncomfortable.    It  makes  me feel  dirty  and  somehow  broken.    The  terminology  used  in  the  Big  Book  (phenomenon,  allergy,  etc) makes  the  condition  sound  a  bit  less  than  scientific.    Thankfully,  I’m  not  a  doctor,  so  I  don’t  have  to understand.      I  avoid  “heaty”  foods  even  though  I  don’t  understand  traditional  Chinese  medicine. What’s  key  for  me  is  that  it’s  not  my  fault  I  can’t  control  my  drinking. I  also  accept  the  fact  that,  even  though  I  can’t  control  my  own  drinking,  I’ll  still  try,  if  left  to  my  own devices.    That’s  why  it’s  a  miracle  for  me  that  I  would  even  consider  relying  on  something  other  than my  own  devices.    My  self-­‐reliance,  my  self-­‐will,  my  ”die  hard  trying”  attitude  –  these  things  have served  a  purpose  in  my  life  in  the  past,  but  did  not  work  with  my  drinking.      I  kept  trying  the  same way  expecting  a  different  outcome.    This  belief  and  my  behavior  I  now  recognize  as  delusion  and insanity.    I  couldn’t  see  it  in  the  early  months.    I  probably  couldn’t  see  it  because  I  tended  to  think only   about   me.     It   wasn’t   until   a   few   months   sober   when   I   caught   a   glimpse   of   what   a   “power greater  than  myself”  could  be. I  am  grateful  for  the  parade  of  people  in  my  recovery  who  kept  telling—and  showing-­‐-­‐me  the  same thing  in  hundreds  of  different  ways.      Most  of  the  messages  were  lost.    One  early  message  did  stick. A  member  told  me  this  is  a  ‘we’  program.      I  wasn’t  sure  what  that  meant,  but  it  implied  it  wasn’t about  me.    That  was  enough  to  spark  some  open-­‐ness  and  willingness  to  try  something  different than  my  way.

It  takes  a  person  like  me  a  lot  of  energy  to  let  go.      I’m  too  smart  or  clever  to  believe  someone  else has  a  better  idea.    This  initial  small  measure  of  open-­‐ness  that  I  was  given  lasted  about  a  day.    Was limited  to  one  or  two  actions.    I  constantly  challenged  it.    Perhaps  that’s  why  letting  go  and  open-­‐ ness  are  so  exhausting  for  me.    But  taking  an  action  like  going  to  a  meeting  or  talking  to  a  fellow helped  me  not  pick  up  a  drink  today.    I  didn’t  understand  it  but  I  tried  it.    And  that  bit  of  faith  turned to  belief.    For  this  alcoholic,  the  belief  that  I  had  a  problem;  that  I  didn’t  have  a  solution,  and  that someone  in  the  program  could  became  the  foundation  for  my  Step  1.      This  disease  doesn’t  go  away. I’ve  done  enough  research  and  damage  that  I’m  convinced  I  physically  crave  more  after  the  first drink.    The  problem  with  the  mind  doesn’t  go  away  either.    Every  day  I  am  learning  that  the  problem with  my  mind  manifests  itself  in  different  ways  well  beyond  the  belief  I  can  control  my  drinking. I  am  grateful  to  experience  my  life  sober.    The  obsession  is  lifted  most  days.    If  I  stay  sober,  I  break the  vicious  cycle  of  trying  to  control  my  drinking  and  failing  miserably.    If  I  stay  sober  today  I  have  a shot  at  doing  something  greater  than  what  I  could  imagine  on  my  own.    It’s  through  the  people  of this  Program,  my  friends,  that  I  realize  that  in  letting  go  of  me  I’m  able  to  find  the  ‘we’. Tony  L _  _  _  _ The  moment  we  begin  to  fear  the  opinions  of  others  and  hesitate  to  tell  the  truth  that  is  in  us,  and from   motives   of   policy   are   silent   when   we   should   speak,   the   divine   floods   of   light   and   life   no longer  flow  into  our  souls  ~  Elizabeth  Cady  Stanton

The  Hand  of  AA  Always  To  Be  There My  journey  through  alcoholism  and  the  attempt  to  become  a  recovering  alcoholic  has  been,  in  my view,  astonishingly  slow  and  the  longest,  predictable  novel  ever  to  be  written.    I  thought  I  became an  alcoholic  when  I  moved  to  Singapore.    I  blamed  everyone  but  myself  for  the  circumstances  that thankfully  guided  me  straight  into  rehab.    I  came  out  of  rehab  and  into  the  rooms  of  AA.    I  found  an amazing  sponsor.    And  because  I  hadn’t  had  a  drink  in  a  few  months,  I  was  cured  and  stopped  going to  meetings.    Everyone  can  guess  how  that  chapter  ended. It  took  me  numerous  relapses  to  finally  come  to  a  conclusion  that  many  alcoholics  “get”  the  first time-­‐  that  alcoholism  is  not  just  about  drinking.    It’s  a  disease  of  the  mind  and  spirit  as  well.    And  as a  disease,  must  be  treated  on  a  daily  basis.    This  did  not  keep  me  sober,  however.    All  of  what  the big  books  says  has  been  true  for  me.    One  of  the  biggest  lessons  I  am  still  trying  to  learn  is  the  idea of  surrender  over  my  own  self  will  run  riot.    My  sponsor  kept  me  at  step  3  for  a  long  time-­‐  almost  a year.    I  thought  I  should  be  moving  faster  than  that  because  I  went  to  meetings  every  day.    But  was  I

willing  to  do  anything  it  takes?  NO.    My  excuse,  for  example,  for  not  writing  as  suggested  on  a  daily basis  was  that  I  went  to  meetings  every  day.    Wasn’t  that  enough? It  was  only  4  continual  years  of  relapsing    when  I  reached  (I  hope)  my  rock  bottom.    I  had  doctors,  I had  resources  to  find  a  solution  outside  the  rooms,  but  truly,  AA  was  the  only  place  I  could  go.  On day  10,  I  distinctly  remember  sharing  at  a  meeting  that  I  couldn’t  endure  another  minute  of  the pain,  obsession,  anxiety,  discontent  I  was  feeling,  and  if  I  didn’t  feel  better  in  20  days,  I  would  kill myself.    Fellows  surrounded  me.    People  took  phone  calls.    People  called  me.    People  sat  with  me  in doctor’s  appointments,  they  sat  and  listened  and  gave  suggestions.    I  don’t  know  what  happened, but  that  20  days  became  a  year. I  wish  that  was  the  happy  ending  you  are  all  looking  for  –  but  alas  –  it  is  not.    I  finally  wanted  what many  people  in  the  rooms  had.    But  getting  what  they  had  took  effort  and  action,  and  I  did  a  lot  of the   actions,   and   eventually   discovered   after   a   good   year   of   sobriety   that   I   had   built   a   bit   of   a “fellowship”.    Had  I  put  “the  program”  as  the  first  priority  of  my  life?  No.    The  old  saying  -­‐“half measures  availed  nothing”  -­‐continue  to  pop  up  in  my  road  to  recovery. During  that  year,  my  life  got  better  and  better.    I  felt  better.    I  forgot  about  the  utter  desperate  state I  had  been  in  the  year  before,  and,  surprise  -­‐  I  relapsed.    What  saved  me  was  the  fellowship.    Within 36  hours  of  locking  myself  in  my  room  to  drink,  two  fellows  showed  up  at  my  door,  cleaned  me  up, and  picked  me  up  the  next  day  for  a  meeting.    I  have  a  great  affinity  for  the  Singapore  fellowship, and  this  fellowship  has  saved  my  life  more  than  once.    I  came  to  rely  on  the  Singapore  fellowship. Now,  almost  in  my  third  or  fourth  time  at  11th  months  sobriety,  I  have  moved  from  Singapore.  In  my new  country,  I  started  going  to  meetings  and  didn’t  like  them.    I  was  offended  that  at  the  end  of  a meeting  after  sharing  that  I  was  a  new  comer,  no  one  gave  me  a  list  of  phone  numbers.    I  felt  closer to   a   drink.     After   a   few   meetings,   I   finally   did   meet   a   few   people,   and   these   fellows   passed   my number  to  others.    I  found  a  morning  meeting  that  I  actually  liked.    I  reached  out  to  fellows  for  help. And   yesterday,   when   I   planned   to   take   a   drink,   I   called   ten   or   more   people.     I   had   never,   ever, already  decided  to  drink  and  made  a  call  first.    I  did.    I  made  many  calls.  One  wise  new  friend  said  to me  that  if  I  can  make  it  through  this  day,  because  I  had  taken  an  action  I  had  never  taken  before,  I would  be  opening  up  a  new  chapter  in  my  sobriety  story.    I  would  not  be  successful  if  I  tried  to control  it  on  my  own,  so  surrender  and  prayer  and  taking  all  of  the  suggestions  given  to  me  were  the tools  I  needed  to  make  it  through  the  night. Today,  I  went  to  the  new  country’s  7  am  meeting.    I  shared  and  cried  for  the  first  time  here.    I  found that  no  matter  where  I  am,  AA  is  always  here  for  me.    It’s  the  only  place  I  can  go  where  my  disease  is

understood  by  everyone  in  that  room,  no  matter  where  that  room  is.    I  have  found  a  home,  no matter  where  the  location.    That  home  is  AA. Anonymous _  _  _  _ The  greatest  gift  you  can  give  someone  is  your  time,  because  when  you  dedicate  your  time,  you are  offering  part  of  your  life  that  you  will  never  get  back  ~  Rick  Warren Holding  on  to  anger  is  like  drinking  poison  and  expecting  the  other  person  to  die  ~  Budhha Humility  is  not  thinking  less  of  yourself;  it  is  thinking  of  yourself  less.  Humility  is  thinking  more  of others    ~  C.S.  Lewis

You  are  never  too  old  to  set  another  goal  or  dream  a  new  dream  ~  C.S.  Lewis Happiness  is  not  always  about  getting  what  you  want.  It  is  about  being  happy  and  grateful  for what  you  receive  ~  unknown