Corking the Bottle

Some of the bridges I burned were the wrong ones. Others I should have crossed, but I sat at the side of the road, sometimes drinking. Now I'm sober. I feel God with me. I pray to do His will. Now He leads me across the right bridges and gives me lighter fluid to torch the bridges I need to burn.

Here is a post I found on the Faces and Voices of Recovery Facebook group site. Does loneliness cause you to use or want to use? Then Paul's story is for you. Paul Noiles December 15 at 7:42 AM Addiction is one of the loneliest disorders. From the outside, I seemed to be the opposite of lonely. I was an extrovert with high social skills, lots of good- time buddies and was the life of many parties. I can even remember my wife being jealous of how easily I made friends. But in reality, I was a fake. I was a masterful actor who never came off the stage because I feared the real me was not enough. I created the fake Paul because I could not handle any more rejection or humiliation, which began in my childhood environment. I created the fake Paul to hide the shame of being a highly sensitive person (HSP). I created the fake Paul because I felt unwanted and alone. "Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty.&q

Here are some interesting statements from A.A. meetings. Donna said it's a big deal just to do her own laundry now that she is sober. I can say the same thing about keeping the house clean and doing yard work. Someone said once that becoming sober is like adolescence. That's an interesting metaphor. Our bodies and minds are going through major changes. Sometimes emotions take over. We might have a desire to go back -- to our childhoods or to using. It feels like the discomfort is permanent despite what others tell us. Remember, not even mountains last forever. Adolescence passed and so will this. Bill found his work became his new addiction. It enabled him to avoid family and alcohol, but something still was missing. He started going back to A.A. meetings, and I assume he found what he needed. Like all of us, he rediscovered the support and personal accountability we find at A.A. The meetings strengthen our spirituality, restore ourselves, and provide opportunities to hel

Many enter A.A. afraid of the steps that relate to God, a Higher Power. As I think back, it seems to me I always had a Higher Power. That Higher Power was me. I had control of my life and most of the things that happened to me. At least I told myself I did. I tried to exercise power over my family and others and came to feel that if they didn't recognize my power, it must be proof of their own weakness. Thankfully, that's an exaggeration. Yeah, I had a superiority complex, but I knew I wasn't God. I use this hyperbole (I hope it's hyperbole!) to make a point.  Alcoholics working the steps have to believe in a power greater than themselves. With no power above them, it means they must have been responsible for creating the earth, breathing life into the lungs of all creatures, and giving birth to Jesus, who needed paddling and time-outs often while growing up. Hyperbole again. But here's the thing: Did God, the creator, die and leave the universe on autopilot

Yesterday I printed A.A.'s tips to keep your holiday season sober and joyous. I thought of some ideas the people at A.A. apparently missed: Be like a lawyer and pass the bars. Wear overstuffed mittens at all parties to prevent picking up liquid temptations. If you've been working on the railroad, hide all spikes before they can be added to the punch. Use bourbon balls to make eyes in your snowman. If it's a large package of bourbon balls, make lots of snowmen. If someone gifts you a bottle of wine, buy a boat and christen it. Rudolph's nose might be red from drinking too much. Keep your own nose its natural color. If you feel tempted to take a drink, go out in the cold, where you can stay so-brrrr. If you get lost in the snow and a St. Bernard with a keg around its neck finds you, sniff contents of keg before consuming. If Grandma gets run over by a reindeer, breathalyze the reindeer and call an attorney. Keep singing the words to John Lennon's Christma

Someone distributed sheets of paper on the tables at A.A. today, labeled "Twelve Tips on Keeping Your Holiday Season Sober and Joyous." I thought I would pass along these tips to you, slightly abridged, in case you are tempted to make your Christmas too jolly. Line up A.A. activities for the holiday season. Volunteer. Be host to A.A. friends, especially newcomers. At least invite them to meet you for coffee. Keep your A.A. telephone list handy with you at all times. Find out about any special A.A. holiday parties, meetings, or other celebrations. Skip any drinking occasion you are nervous about. "And lead us not into temptation." If you have to go to a drinking party and can't take an A.A. with you, keep some candy handy. Don't think you have to stay someplace late. Have an exit excuse ready. Worship in your own way. Don't sit around brooding. Catch up on books, museums, walks, and letters. Don't start now getting worked up about holid

Why mourn the dead? What we really are doing is mourning a past that can't be brought back. Our love for the deceased is so great that we feel sorry for ourselves and our lost one. If you are in mourning, try to turn it into a celebration of the life that hes ended. I know it feels impossible because grief is part of the healing process. But here is something you can do: Avoid drowning sadness with alcohol and other drugs. That's no way to pay respect for a person you love.

I posted earlier today that the past can be cherished without retreating to it. This from Facebook delivers a similar message. Today is tomorrow's past. Live in the moment.

I've written  umpteen times that the issue that led me to drink was looking to my past and comparing it with my present. That was depressing, and seemed to be fixable only with another drink. Then another. One of my favorite Beatles songs, probably not surprising, is one that goes like this: There are places I remember all my life Though some have changed Some forever not for better Some have gone and some remain I went through an onslaught of change that caught up with me around 2006. From there it was a slow descent into depression. If I drank a little, my mood would swing to a better place. But eventually, I couldn't drink just a little. And I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them... The Ninth Step Promises in the Big Book, which we read before every meeting, describes the way we should remember our past: "We will not forget the past nor wish to shut the door on it.&qu

Let's take a statement out of context. "Everything I needed was provided." After you got sober and stayed sober, is this a statement that pertains to you? Does your Higher Power give you everything you need? If not, what is missing? What do you need -- I repeat, need -- in your life you are not receiving? I thought about this, and you know, I can't think of  a thing I need that isn't already mine. Christmas is two weeks from today. I expect to find things I can use under the tree, but nothing in the wrapping will be anything I need . Realizing that all my needs are being met adds to my peace and serenity. Maybe it helps that I live in a nice house with plenty to eat, a warm bed at night, a loving family, two cars, a cell phone, yada yada. But what about the man living under a highway? If he is a recovering alcoholic or former addict and now uses no more, is God meeting his needs? Hmmm, That sounds like something worth some research. Is the recovering alc

If you find yourself digging a deeper and deeper hole, the logical first step is to get rid of the shovel. Then you can plan how to get out. "You hit bottom when you stop digging," the Big Book says on page 325. As long as that shovel was available, however, I was determined  to keep digging. I didn't really want to stop, even though I told others I did. A narrative in the Big Book, "It might Have Been Worse," describes our predicament. "Again I promised to do something about it (drinking). Broken promises, humiliation, hopelessness, worry, anxiety -- but still not enough (to make me lay down my shovel).... "Like all alcoholics I wanted to handle my problem my own way, which really meant I didn't want anything to interfere with my drinking. I was trying to find an easier, softer way." Right in front of me was God. He had been there the hole time, waiting for me to find the answers on my own. He isn't an easier, softer answer, bu

I don't mean to insult the religion or spirituality of your choice, but I feel like I have to point something out: Many Christians believe their religion is the only true way to worship. Jews claim to be the chosen people. What's up with that? We have a right to our beliefs, but we should allow others the right to theirs. Isn't it right to have that right? I don't know if my spiritual beliefs are true any more than you do. All I do know is that God guides my life. That's good enough for me. If your scripture claims I am headed to hell for faith different than yours, I'm sorry you are afflicted with spiritual perfectionism. I thought about this today because of a post in Faces and Voices of Recovery. Please read it, consider it, and try to see what I mean: Paul Noiles  shared a  post . Trust me I know.  🤣 Here are  a few examples of Spiritual Perfectionism: 1) My spiritual practice is not good enough unless

I used to think too much. What are my priorities at work tomorrow? How do I fill my days productively now that I am retired early? Am I drinking too much? Why am I drinking too much? Do I want to quit? How am I supposed to put up with my wife who is always on my back? Why doesn't my daughter speak to me any more? How can I be healthy by drinking myself into oblivion? " I wandered from room to room, thinking, drinking, drinking, thinking.... I never know which came first, the thinking or the drinking. If I could only stop thinking, I wouldn't drink. If I could only stop drinking, maybe I wouldn't think. But they were all mixed up together, and I was all mixed up inside." (The Big Book, "The Housewife Who Drank at Home," page 297) My, my, my! It's relaxing now to let God handle the thinking. I ask Him to help me do His will, whatever His will might be. And then I'm done. What else is there to think about? In the words of the immortal Alfred

No one knew when I was drinking. I chose vodka because it didn't have much of an alcohol smell. I drank just enough to feel good, but not so much that I was slurring, staggering, or slow-footed -- the three S's of detection. My wife could tell if I drank, she claimed, by the flickering of my eye. I knew she was making that up. I got away with it, and no one, including her, was any wiser. I couldn't have been more wrong or more stupid. As time went on, I learned people could smell vodka on my breath and perspiring through my pores. When I drank, I didn't feel myself slurring, staggering, or slow, but others did. And my eye looked fine, thank you very much. No one knew I was drinking. It was my secret. According to the Big Book on page 292, "It's surprising, how we think we fool everyone in our drinking." I now realize that if I started to drink again, I would get caught. I would be embarrassed. I would feel ashamed. I can't fool myself and I c

Church was a big part of my life growing up. God wasn't. I have learned that both can exist without the other. Now I don't go to church. But I do have God in my life. As I said yesterday, I am going through the testimonials in the back of the Big Book. A passage from "The Missing Link" describes the link that I used to be missing in my life as well: "Following this spiritual path made a major difference in my life. It seemed to fill that lonely hole that I used to fill with alcohol. My self-esteem improved dramatically, and I knew happiness and serenity as I had never known it before, I started to see the beauty and usefulness in my own existence, and tried to express my gratitude through helping others in whatever ways I could. A confidence and faith entered my life and unraveled a plan for me that was bigger and better than I could have ever imagined." I passed along this message at my A.A. meeting a little while ago. I felt God was telling me to s

I am re-re-re-reading the personal narratives in the A.A. Big Book. I always find new good stuff, depending on what road to recovery I happen to be traveling. These stories are my GPS on that road, and I want to blog about some passages I find particularly relevant. I start with the introduction to Part II, "They Stopped in Time," on page 279 (It's unnumbered.) This part seems to apply to me. How about you?: "Among today's incoming A.A. members, many have never reached the advanced stages of alcoholism, though given time all might. (Yeah, me too!) "Most of these unfortunates have had little or no acquaintance with delirium, with hospitals, with asylums, and jails. (Well, not with delirium.) Some were drinking heavily, and there had been occasional serious episodes.... "They realized that repeated lack of drinking control, when they really wanted control, was the fatal symptom that spelled problem drinking.... Complete ruin would only be a ques