"Powerless"

I was at my regular step study meeting last night and we went over Step One. I confess, I am one of those who tends to say, "I love this step" a lot, regardless which step we're on. I don't think I said it last night, but I did comment on how it's always good to come back around to Step One. It's the beginning, where it all starts. I. Am. Powerless. I cannot manage my life. When I forget those two basic ingredients of the program, the addict-Zach side of me rubs his hands together and cackles with delight in anticipation of the impending chaos.

Someone at the meeting shared about how, as she continues to get more time, she finds more and more things she is powerless over. This is something I have found to be true as well. It's not just my addiction that I'm powerless over--it's people, places, and things, too. I've quoted Melody Beattie before (and will again): when we try to control the uncontrollable, our lives become unmanageable. The Program teaches us to accept what is, to trust in God, and to let go.

There was nothing I could do to prevent my former employer from laying me off, but I can do my best to find a new way to earn a living. I can't make the cute girl sitting across from me in the coffee shop ask me out, but I can be confident in myself and open to allowing women into my life who are interested. I can't make the government give me more unemployment insurance, but I can swallow my pride and take my folks up on their offer to help me out.

I can't control my addiction. What I can do is not put myself in situations where I'm at risk of relapse. I can avoid the places I used to hang out and get loaded. I can call someone else in the Program when I'm itching for a fix or wanting to get drunk. I can remember that my disease isn't just about getting loaded, either. When I'm feeling low or depressed, I can find a way to be of service and help someone else. If nothing else, I can go to a meeting, share about what I'm going through, and listen to the stories of others. There is no problem so bad that someone else out there doesn't have it worse.

I can remember, too, that I have to keep moving. The AA big book is very clear on this: "We feel a man is unthinking when he says that sobriety is enough." There is a world of difference between sobriety and Recovery, between merely being abstinent and actively working the Program. If all I cared about was just being sober, then I would be perfectly happy growing pot and selling it. I could say that it was no problem since I didn't smoke it myself. I would be like the alcoholic who goes into a bar and hangs out with all his old drinking buddies and thinks his shit don't stink because he only had an iced tea.

Thank God that I can see the insanity inherent in those two situations. Thank God that I can see the insanity of being a drug addict in Recovery and continuing to hang out with those who are still getting loaded--it's what has allowed me to change my people, places, and things. I feel a bit specious as I write that, but it is the honest truth.

So many people struggle. I was so fortunate when I came into the rooms; I was done. I was ready to make the change, to not live that way anymore. Somehow, through the fog of my detox, I was able to understand that I needed to do what was suggested to me. I haven't been perfect at it, by any means, but I was able to hear what was being said and admit to myself that my way really didn't work anymore. And that it never really did.

I know that there have been plenty of times since that day in August of 2008 where I have asserted my will, taken it back from God, and tried to make what I wanted come to pass. Some of the best (worst?) mistakes of my life have been made in Recovery. But every time I take my will back, every time I try to steer my own life, disaster strikes. People I love get hurt. I get hurt.

When I trust in God, let go, and trust that there is a better plan out there than mine, things go so much more smoothly. Good things happen. My ego gets bent out of shape sometimes because I wasn't the one to bring about the good stuff, but as time goes by I get better and better at accepting it anyway. I do my best to say 'thanks' to God, too, because I know all too well that the goodness I've been blessed with is far better than anything I ever brought about for myself.