Cunning, baffling, powerful!

My disease wants only one thing from me — to take one tiny sip of anything with alcohol in it. My disease doesn’t care if I get drunk or even if I finish the whole drink. Just one tiny sip. That’s all it wants. Then it will have won. I stay away from the first sip by showing up for my recovery regardless of how I feel, regardless of what my head is telling me, regardless of what’s going on around me.

Spirit keeps me sober. I can’t be connected to spirit when I’m hiding from life. I hid from life with alcohol and drugs for thirty years and ended up spiritually bankrupt. I’m in dangerous territory if I try to hide today. I cannot allow myself to decide to stay home and rest just because I feel a little tired. Or to listen to my head when it tells me I don’t need a meeting today because I feel good. I can’t let a little thing like low energy or a blue mood keep me from showing up for my recovery. Once I allow my emotions or my thoughts keep me from taking recovery actions, the door cracks open for my disease.

In one of my first meetings an old timer said, “I woke up this morning feeling depressed. I rolled around for a while, then asked myself, what would I do if I wasn’t depressed? I’d get up and come to this meeting. And that’s what I did.” I also heard old timers in my home group encourage us newcomers to “show up even if your ass is falling off!” These are lessons I haven’t forgotten.

I’ve been taking care of my sick wife and haven’t been able to get to as many meetings as I like. Sometimes sadness rolls over me like a gray fog. My disease tells me to stay home with her instead of going to the meeting. Taking care of her is my primary focus, but first things first. I'm not much good to anyone unless I'm in fit spiritual condition and meetings are key for me. I can’t be practicing Step Three if I’m sitting on my couch eating Bon Bons when I ought to be at a meeting. But that’s exactly what my disease wants me to do.