AA's Basic
Text "Alcoholics Anonymous" aka the Big Book
Alcoholics
Anonymous
Also
called the Big Book & Basic Text, the 1st edition was printed in1939.
to Chapters -
* Doctors
Opinion
* Bills Story
* More about
Alcoholism
* There is a
Solution
*We Agnostics
* How It Works
* Into Action
* Working With
Others
*To Wives
* The Family
Afterward
* To Employers
* A Vision for
You
This is the
Foreword as it appeared in the first printing of the first edition in 1939.
We, of
Alcoholics Anonymous, are more than one hundred men and women who have
recovered from a
seemingly hopeless state of mind and body. To show other
alcoholics
precisely how we have recovered is the main purpose of this book. For
them, we hope
these pages will prove so convincing that no further
authentication
will be necessary. We think this account of our experiences will
help everyone to
better understand the alcoholic. Many do not comprehend that
the alcoholic is
a very sick person. And besides, we are sure that our way of
living has its
advantages for all.
It is
important that we remain anonymous because we are too few, at present
to handle the
overwhelming number of personal appeals which may result from this
publication.
Being mostly business or professional folk, we could not well carry
on our
occupations in such an event. We would like it understood that our
alcoholic work is
an avocation.
When writing
or speaking publicly about alcoholism, we urge each of our
Fellowship to
omit his personal name, designating himself instead as "a member
of Alcoholics
Anonymous."
Very earnestly
we ask the press also, to observe this request, for otherwise
we shall be
greatly handicapped. We are not an organization in the conventional
sense of the
word. There are no fees or dues whatsoever. The only requirement
for membership is
an honest desire to stop drinking. We are not allied with any
particular faith,
sect or denomination, nor do we oppose anyone. We simply wish
to be helpful to
those who are afflicted.
We shall be
interested to hear from those who are getting results from this
book,
particularly form those who have commenced work with other alcoholics. We
should like to be
helpful to such cases. Inquiry by scientific, medical, and
religious
societies will be welcomed.
Forward to the
Second Edition
Figures given
in this foreword describe the Fellowship as it was in 1955.
Since the
original Foreword to this book was written in 1939, a wholesale
miracle has taken
place. Our earliest printing voiced the hope "that every
alcoholic who
journeys will find the Fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous at his
destination.
Already," continues the early text, "twos and threes and fives of
us have sprung up
in other communities."
Sixteen years
have elapsed between our first printing of this book and the
presentation of
1955 of our second edition. In that brief space, Alcoholics
Anonymous has
mushroomed into nearly 6,000 groups whose membership is far above
150,000 recovered
alcoholics. Groups are to be found in each of the United
States and all of
the provinces of Canada. A.A. has flourishing communities in
the British
Isles, the Scandinavian countries, South Africa, South America,
Mexico, Alaska,
Australia and Hawaii. All told, promising beginnings have been
made in some 50
foreign countries and U.S. possessions. Some are just now taking
shape in Asia.
Many of our friends encourage us by saying that this is but a
beginning, only
the augury of a much larger future ahead.
The spark
that was to flare into the first A.A. group was struck at Akron,
Ohio in June
1935, during a talk between a New York stockbroker and an Akron
physician. Six
months earlier, the broker had been relieved of his drink
obsession by a
sudden spiritual experience, following a meeting with an
alcoholic friend
who had been in contact with the Oxford Groups of that day. He
had also been
greatly helped by the late Dr. William D. Silkworth, a New York
specialist in
alcoholism who is now accounted no less than a medical saint by
A.A. members, and
whose story of the early days of our Society appears in the
next pages. From
this doctor, the broker had learned the grave nature of
alcoholism.
Though he could not accept all the tenets of the Oxford Groups, he
was convinced of
the need for moral inventory, confession of personality
defects,
restitution to those harmed, helpfulness to others, and the necessity
of belief in and
dependence upon God.
Prior to his
journey to Akron, the broker had worked hard with many
alcoholics on the
theory that only an alcoholic could help an alcoholic, but he
had succeeded
only in keeping sober himself. The broker had gone to Akron on a
business venture
which had collapsed, leaving him greatly in fear that he might
start drinking
again. He suddenly realized that in order to save himself he must
carry his message
to another alcoholic. That alcoholic turned out to be the
Akron physician.
This
physician had repeatedly tried spiritual means to resolve his alcoholic
dilemma but had
failed. But when the broker gave him Dr. Silkworth's description
of alcoholism and
its hopelessness, the physician began to pursue the spiritual
remedy for his
malady with a willingness he had never before been able to
muster. He
sobered, never to drink again up to the moment of his death in 1950.
This seemed to
prove that one alcoholic could affect another as no nonalcoholic
could. It also
indicated that strenuous work, one alcoholic with another, was
vital to
permanent recovery.
Hence the two
men set to work almost frantically upon alcoholics arriving in
the ward of the
Akron City Hospital. Their very first case, a desperate one,
recovered
immediately and became A.A. number three. He never had another drink.
This work at
Akron continued through the summer of 1935. There were many
failures, but
there was an occasional heartening success. When the broker
returned to New
York in the fall of 1935, the first A.A. group had actually been
formed, though no
one realized it at the time.
A second
small group promptly took shape at New York, to be followed in 1937
with the start of
a third at Cleveland. Besides these, there were scattered
alcoholics who
had picked up the basic ideas in Akron or New York who were
trying to form
groups in other cities. By late 1937, the number of members
having
substantial sobriety time behind them was sufficient to convince the
membership that a
new light had entered the dark world of the alcoholic.
It was now
time, the struggling groups thought, to place their message and
unique experience
before the world. This determination bore fruit in the spring
of 1939 by the
publication of this volume. The membership had then reached about
100 men and
women. The fledgling society, which had been nameless, now began to
be called
Alcoholics Anonymous, from the title of its own book. The flying-blind
period ended and
A.A. entered a new phase of its pioneering time.
With the
appearance of the new book a great deal began to happen. Dr. Harry
Emerson Fosdick,
the noted clergyman, reviewed it with approval. In the fall of
1939 Fulton
Oursler, the editor of LIBERTY, printed a piece in his magazine,
called
"Alcoholics and God." This brought a rush of 800 frantic inquiries
into
the little New
York office which meanwhile had been established. Each inquiry
was painstakingly
answered; pamphlets and books were sent out. Businessmen,
traveling out of
existing groups, were referred to these prospective newcomers.
New groups started
up and it was found, to the astonishment of everyone, that
A.A.'s message
could be transmitted in the mail as well as by word of mouth. By
the end of 1939
it was estimated that 800 alcoholics were on their way to
recovery.
In the spring
of 1940, John D. Rockefeller, Jr. gave a dinner for many of
his friends to
which he invited A.A. members to tell their stories. News of this
got on the world
wires; inquiries poured in again and many people went to the
bookstores to get
the book "Alcoholics Anonymous." By March 1941 the membership
had shot up to
2,000. Then Jack Alexander wrote a feature article in the
Saturday Evening
Post and placed such a compelling picture of A.A. before the
general public
that alcoholics in need of help really deluged us. By the close
of 1941, A.A.
numbered 8,000 members. The mushrooming process was in full swing,
A.A. had become
a national institution.
Our Society
then entered a fearsome and exciting adolescent period. The test
that it faced was
this: Could these large numbers of erstwhile erratic
alcoholics
successfully meet and work together? Would there be quarrels over
membership,
leadership and money? Would there be strivings for power and
prestige? Would
there be schisms which would split A.A. apart? Soon A.A. was
beset by these
very problems on every side and in every group. But out of this
frightening and
at first disrupting experience the conviction grew that A.A.'s
had to hang
together or die separately. We had to unify our Fellowship or pass
off the scene.
As we
discovered the principles by which the individual alcoholic could
live, so we had
to evolve principles by which the A.A. groups and A.A. as a
whole could
survive and function effectively. It was thought that no alcoholic
man or woman
could be excluded from our Society; that our leaders might serve
but not govern;
that each group was to be autonomous and there was to be no fees
or dues; our
expenses were to be met by our own voluntary contributions. There
was to be the
least possible organization, even in our service centers. Our
public relations
were to be based upon attraction rather than promotion. It was
decided that all
members ought to be anonymous at the level of press, radio, TV
and films. And in
no circumstances should we give endorsements, make alliances,
or enter public
controversies.
This was the
substance of A.A.'s Twelve Traditions, which are stated in full
on page 564 of
this book. Though none of these principles had the force of rules
or laws, they had
become so widely accepted by 1950 that they were confirmed by
our first
International Conference held at Cleveland. Today the remarkable unity
of A.A. is one of
the greatest assets that our Society has.
While the
internal difficulties of our adolescent period were being ironed
out, public
acceptance of A.A. grew by leaps and bounds. For this there were two
principal
reasons: the large numbers of recoveries, and reunited homes.
Another
reason for the wide acceptance of A.A. was the ministration of
friends --
friends in medicine, religion, and the press, together with
innumerable
others who became our able and persistent advocates. Without such
support, A.A.
could have made only the slowest progress. Some of the
recommendations
of A.A.'s early medical and religious friends will be found
further on in
this book.
Alcoholics
Anonymous is not a religious organization. Neither does A.A. take
any particular
medical point of view, though we cooperate widely with the men of
medicine as well
as with the men of religion. Alcohol being no respecter of
persons, we are
an accurate cross section of America, and in distant lands, the
same democratic
evening-up process is now going on. By personal religious
affiliation, we
include Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Hindus, and a sprinkling
of Moslems and
Buddhists. More than fifteen percent of us are women.
At present,
our membership is pyramiding at the rate of about twenty percent
a year. So far,
upon the total problem of actual potential alcoholics in the
world, we have
made only a scratch. In all probability, we shall never be able
to touch more
than a fair fraction of the alcohol problem in all its
ramifications.
Upon therapy for the alcoholic himself, we surely have no
monopoly. Yet it
is our great hope that all those who have as yet found no
answer may begin
to find one in the pages of this book and will presently join
us on the
highroad to a new freedom.
Forward to the
Third Edition
to TOP
By March
1976, when this edition went to the printer, the total worldwide
membership of
Alcoholics Anonymous was conservatively estimated at more than
1,000,000, with
almost 28,000 groups meeting in over 90 countries.
Surveys of
groups in the United States and Canada indicate that A.A. is
reaching out, not
only to more and more people, but to a wider and wider range.
Women now make up
more than one-fourth of the membership; among newer members,
the proportion
is nearly one-third. Seven percent of the A.A.'s surveyed are
less than thirty
years of age -- among them, many in their teens.
The basic
principles of the A.A. program, it appears, hold good for
individuals with
many different lifestyles, just as the program has brought
recovery to those
of many different nationalities. The Twelve Steps that
summarize the
program may be called los Douze Etapes in another, but they trace
exactly the same
path to recovery that was blazed by the earliest members of
Alcoholics
Anonymous.
In spite of
the great increase in the size and the span of this Fellowship,
at its core it
remains simple and personal. Each day, somewhere in the world,
recovery begins
when one alcoholic talks with another alcoholic, sharing
experience,
strength, and hope.
The Doctor's
Opinion
to TOP
WE OF
Alcoholics Anonymous believe that the reader will be interested in the
medical estimate
of the plan of recovery described in this book. Convincing
testimony must
surely come from medical men who have had experience with the
sufferings of our
members and have witnessed our return to health. A well known
doctor, chief
physician at a nationally prominent hospital specializing in
alcoholic and
drug addiction, gave Alcoholics Anonymous this letter:
To Whom It
May Concern:
I have
specialized in the treatment of alcoholism for many years.
In late 1934
I attended a patient who, though he had been a competent
business man of
good earning capacity, was an alcoholic of a type I had come to
regard as
hopeless.
In the course
of his third treatment he acquired certain ideas concerning a
possible means of
recovery. As part of his rehabilitation he commenced to
present his
conceptions to other alcoholics, impressing upon them that they must
do likewise with
still others. This has become the basis of a rapidly growing
fellowship of
these men and their families. This man and over one hundred others
appear to have
recovered.
I personally
know scores of cases who were of the type with whom other
methods had
failed completely.
These facts
appear to be of extreme medical importance; because of the
extraordinary
possibilities of rapid growth inherent in this group they may mark
a new epoch in
the annals of alcoholism. These men may well have a remedy for
thousands of such
situations.
You may
rely absolutely on anything they say about themselves.
Very truly
yours,
(Signed) - -
- - - M.D.
The
physician who, at our request, gave us this letter, has been kind
enough to enlarge
upon his views in another statement which follows. In this
statement he
confirms what we who have suffered alcoholic torture must
believe-that the
body of the alcoholic is quite as abnormal as his mind. It did
not satisfy us to
be told that we could not control our drinking just because we
were maladjusted
to life, that we were in full flight from reality, or were
outright mental
defectives. These things were true to some extent, in fact, to a
considerable
extent with some of us. But we are sure that our bodies were
sickened as well.
In our belief, any picture of the alcoholic which leaves out
this physical
factor is incomplete.
The doctor's
theory that we have an allergy to alcohol interests us. As
laymen, our
opinion as to its soundness may, of course, mean little. But as
ex-problem
drinkers, we can say that his explanation makes good sense. It
explains many
things for which we cannot otherwise account.
Though we
work out our solution on the spiritual as well as an altruistic
plane, we favor
hospitalization for the alcoholic who is very jittery or
befogged. More
often than not, it is imperative that a man's brain be cleared
before he is
approached, as he has then a better chance of understanding and
accepting what we
have to offer.
The doctor
writes:
The subject
presented in this book seems to me to be of paramount
importance to
those afflicted with alcoholic addiction.
I say this
after many years' experience as Medical Director of one of the
oldest
hospitals in the country treating alcoholic and drug addiction.
There was,
therefore, a sense of real satisfaction when I was asked to
contribute a
few words on a subject which is covered in such masterly detail
in these pages.
We doctors
have realized for a long time that some form of moral
psychology was
of urgent importance to alcoholics, but its application
presented
difficulties beyond our conception. What with our ultra-modern
standards, our
scientific approach to everything, we are perhaps not well
equipped to
apply the powers of good that lie outside our synthetic knowledge.
Many years
ago one of the leading contributors to this book came under our
care in this
hospital and while here he acquired some ideas which he put into
practical
application at once.
Later, he
requested the privilege of being allowed to tell his story to
other patients
here and with some misgiving, we consented. The cases we have
followed
through have been most interesting; in fact, many of them are
amazing. The
unselfishness of these men as we have come to know them, the
entire absence
of profit motive, and their community spirit, is indeed
inspiring to
one who has labored long and wearily in this alcoholic field.
They believe in
themselves, and still more in the Power which pulls chronic
alcoholics back
from the gates of death.
Of course
an alcoholic ought to be freed from his physical craving for
liquor, and
this often requires a definite hospital procedure, before
psychological
measures can be of maximum benefit.
We believe,
and so suggested a few years ago, that the action of alcohol
on these
chronic alcoholics is a manifestation of an allergy; that the
phenomenon of
craving is limited to this class and never occurs in the average
temperate
drinker. These allergic types can never safely use alcohol in any
form at all;
and once having formed the habit and found they cannot break it,
once having
lost their self-confidence, their reliance upon things human,
their problems
pile up on them and become astonishingly difficult to solve.
Frothy
emotional appeal seldom suffices. The message which can interest
and hold these
alcoholic people must have depth and weight. In nearly all
cases, their
ideals must be grounded in a power greater than themselves, if
they are to
re-create their lives.
If any feel
that as psychiatrists directing a hospital for alcoholics we
appear somewhat
sentimental, let them stand with us a while on the firing
line, see the
tragedies, the despairing wives, the little children; let the
solving of
these problems become a part of their daily work, and even of their
sleeping
moments, and the most cyni cal will not wonder that we have accepted
and encouraged
this movement. We feel, after many years of experience, that we
have found
nothing which has contributed more to the rehabilitation of these
men than the
altruistic movement now growing up among them.
Men and
women drink essentially because they like the effect produced by
alcohol. The
sensation is so elusive that, while they admit it is injurious,
they cannot
after a time differentiate the true from the false. To them, their
alcoholic life
seems the only normal one. They are restless, irritable and
discontented,
unless they can again experience the sense of ease and comfort
which comes at
once by taking a few drinks-drinks which they see others taking
with impunity.
After they have succumbed to the desire again, as so many do,
and the
phenomenon of craving develops, they pass through the well-known
stages of a
spree, emerging remorseful, with a firm resolution not to drink
again. This is
repeated over and over, and unless this person can experience
an entire
psychic change there is very little hope of his recovery.
On the
other hand-and strange as this may seem to those who do not
understand-once
a psychic change has occurred, the very same person who seemed
doomed, who had
so many problems he despaired of ever solving them, suddenly
finds himself
easily able to control his desire for alcohol, the only effort
necessary being
that required to follow a few simple rules.
Men have
cried out to me in sincere and despairing appeal: "Doctor, I
cannot go on
like this! I have everything to live for! I must stop, but I
cannot! You
must help me!"
Faced with
this problem, if a doctor is honest with himself, he must
sometimes feel
his own inadequacy. Although he gives all that is in him, it
often is not
enough. One feels that something more than human power is needed
to produce the
essential psychic change. Though the aggregate of recoveries
resulting from
psychiatric effort is considerable, we physicians must admit we
have made
little impression upon the problem as a whole. Many types do not
respond to the
ordinary psychological approach.
I do not
hold with those who believe that alcoholism is entirely a problem
of mental
control. I have had many men who had, for example, worked a period
of months on
some problem or business deal which was to be settled on a
certain date,
favorably to them. They took a drink a day or so prior to the
date, and then
the phenomenon of craving at once became paramount to all other
interests so
that the important appointment was not met. These men were not
drinking to
escape; they were drinking to overcome a craving beyond their
mental control.
There are
many situations which arise out of the phenomenon of craving
which cause men
to make the supreme sacrifice rather than continue to fight.
The
classification of alcoholics seems most difficult, and in much detail
is outside the
scope of this book. There are, of course, the psychopaths who
are emotionally
unstable. We are all familiar with this type. They are always
"going on
the wagon for keeps." They are over-remorseful and make many
resolutions,
but never a decision.
There is
the type of man who is unwilling to admit that he cannot take a
drink. He plans
various ways of drinking. He changes his brand or his
environment.
There is the type who always believes that after being entirely
free from
alcohol for a period of time he can take a drink without danger.
There is the
manic-depressive type, who is, perhaps, the least understood by
his friends,
and about whom a whole chapter could be written.
Then there
are types entirely normal in every respect except in the effect
alcohol has
upon them. They are often able, intelligent, friendly people.
All these,
and many others, have one symptom in common: they cannot start
drinking
without developing the phenomenon of craving. This phenomenon, as we
have suggested,
may be the manifestation of an allergy which differentiates
these people,
and sets them apart as a distinct entity. It has never been, by
any treatment
with which we are familiar, permanently eradicated. The only
relief we have
to suggest is entire abstinence.
This
immediately precipitates us into a seething caldron of debate. Much
has been
written pro and con, but among physicians, the general opinion seems
to be that most
chronic alcoholics are doomed.
What is the
solution? Perhaps I can best answer this by relating one of my
experiences.
About one
year prior to this experience a man was brought in to be treated
for chronic
alcoholism. He had but partially recovered from a gastric
hemorrhage and
seemed to be a case of pathological mental deterioration. He
had lost
everything worth while in life and was only living, one might say, to
drink. He
frankly admitted and believed that for him there was no hope.
Following the
elimination of alcohol, there was found to be no permanent brain
injury. He
accepted the plan outlined in this book. One year later he called
to see me, and
I experienced a very strange sensation. I knew the man by name,
and partly
recognized his features, but there all resemblance ended. From a
trembling,
despairing, nervous wreck, had emerged a man brimming over with
self-reliance
and contentment. I talked with him for some time, but was not
able to bring
myself to feel that I had known him before. To me he was a
stranger, and
so he left me. A long time has passed with no return to alcohol.
When I need
a mental uplift, I often think of another case brought in by a
physician
prominent in New York City. The patient had made his own diagnosis,
and deciding
his situation hopeless, had hidden in a deserted barn determined
to die. He was
rescued by a searching party, and, in desperate condition,
brought to me.
Following his physical rehabilitation, he had a talk with me in
which he
frankly stated he thought the treatment a waste of effort, unless I
could assure
him, which no one ever had, that in the future he would have the
"will
power" to resist the impulse to drink.
His
alcoholic problem was so complex, and his depression so great, that we
felt his only
hope would be through what we then called "moral psychology,"
and we doubted
if even that would have any effect.
However, he
did become "sold" on the ideas contained in this book. He has
not had a drink
for a great many years. I see him now and then and he is as
fine a specimen
of manhood as one could wish to meet.
I earnestly
advise every alcoholic to read this book through, and though
perhaps he came
to scoff, he may remain to pray.
Chapter 1
to TOP
Bill's Story
War fever ran
high in the New England town to which we new, young officers
from Plattsburg
were assigned, and we were flattered when the first citizens
took us to their
homes, making us feel heroic. Here was love, applause, war;
moments sublime
with intervals hilarious. I was part of life at last, and in the
midst of the
excitement I discovered liquor. I forgot the strong warnings and
the prejudices of
my people concerning drink. In time we sailed for "Over
There." I
was very lonely and again turned to alcohol.
We landed in
England. I visited Winchester Cathedral. Much moved, I wandered
outside. My
attention was caught by a doggerel on an old tombstone:
"Here
lies a Hampshire Grenadier
Who caught his
death
Drinking cold
small beer.
A good
soldier is ne'er forgot
Whether he
dieth by musket
Or by
pot."
Ominous
warning which I failed to heed.
Twenty-two,
and a veteran of foreign wars, I went home at last. I fancied
myself a leader,
for had not the men of my battery given me a special token of
appreciation? My
talent for leadership, I imagined, could place me at the head
of vast
enterprises which I would manage with the utmost assurance. I took a
night law course,
and obtained employment as investigator for a surety company.
The drive for
success was on. I'd prove to the world I was important. My work
took me about
Wall Street and little by little I became interested in the
market. Many
people lost money but some became very rich. Why not I? I studied
economics and
business as well as law. Potential alcoholic that I was, I nearly
failed my law
course. At one of the finals I was too drunk to think or write.
Though my
drinking was not yet continuous, it disturbed my wife. We had long
talks when I
would still her forebodings by telling her that men of genius
conceived their
best projects when drunk; that the most majestic constructions
philosophic
thought were so derived.
By the time I
had completed the course, I knew the law was not for me. The
inviting
maelstrom of Wall Street had me in its grip. Business and financial
leaders were my
heroes. Out of this ally of drink and speculation, I commenced
to forge the
weapon that one day would turn in its flight like a boomerang and
all but cut me to
ribbons. Living modestly, my wife and I saved $1,000. It went
into certain
securities, then cheap and rather unpopular. I rightly imagined
that they would
some day have a great rise. I failed to persuade my broker
friends to send
me out looking over factories and managements, but my wife and I
decided to go
anyway. I had developed a theory that most people lost money in
stocks through
ignorance of markets. I discovered many more reasons later on.
We gave up
our positions and off we roared on a motorcycle, the sidecar
stuffed with
tent, blankets, a change of clothes, and three huge volumes of a
financial reference
service. Our friends thought a lunacy commission should be
appointed.
Perhaps they were right. I had had some success at speculation, so we
had a little
money, but we once worked on a farm for a month to avoid drawing on
our small
capital. That was the last honest manual labor on my part for many a
day. We covered
the whole eastern United States in a year. At the end of it, my
reports to Wall
Street procured me a position there and the use of a large
expense account.
The exercise of an option brought in more money, leaving us
with a profit of
several thousand dollars for that year.
For the next
few years fortune threw money and applause my way. I had
arrived. My
judgment and ideas were followed by many to the tune of paper
millions. The
great boom of the late twenties was seething and swelling. Drink
was taking an
important and exhilarating part in my life. There was loud talk in
the jazz places
uptown. Everyone spent in thousands and chattered in millions.
Scoffers could scoff
and be damned. I made a host of fair-weather friends.
My drinking
assumed more serious proportions, continuing all day and almost
every night. The
remonstrances of my friends terminated in a row and I became a
lone wolf. There
were many unhappy scenes in our sumptuous apartment. There had
been no real
infidelity, for loyalty to my wife, helped at times by extreme
drunkenness, kept
me out of those scrapes.
In 1929 I
contracted golf fever. We went at once to the country, my wife to
applaud while I
started out to overtake Walter Hagen. Liquor caught up with me
much faster than
I came up behind Walter. I began to be jittery in the morning.
Golf permitted
drinking every day and every night. It was fun to carom around
the exclusive
course which had inspired such awe in me as a lad. I acquired the
impeccable coat
of tan one sees upon the well-to- do. The local banker watched
me whirl fat
checks in and out of his till with amused skepticism.
Abruptly in
October 1929 hell broke loose on the New York stock exchange.
After one of
those days of inferno, I wobbled from a hotel bar to a brokerage
office. It was
eight o'clock five hours after the market closed. The ticker
still clattered.
I was staring at an inch of the tape which bore the
inscription
XYZ-32. It had been 52 that morning. I was finished and so were many
friends. The
papers reported men jumping to death from the towers of High
Finance. That
disgusted me. I would not jump. I went back to the bar. My friends
had dropped
several million since ten o'clock so what? Tomorrow was another day.
As I drank, the
old fierce determination to win came back.
Next morning
I telephoned a friend in Montreál. He had plenty of money left
and thought I had
better go to Canada. By the following spring we were living in
our accustomed
style. I felt like Napoleon returning from Elba. No St. Helena
for me! But
drinking caught up with me again and my generous friend had to let
me go. This time
we stayed broke.
We went to
live with my wife's parents. I found a job; then lost it as the
result of a brawl
with a taxi driver. Mercifully, no one could guess that I was
to have no real
employment for five years, or hardly draw a sober breath. My
wife began to
work in a department store, coming home exhausted to find me
drunk. I became
an unwelcome hanger-on at brokerage places.
Liquor ceased
to be a luxury; it became a necessity. "Bathtub" gin, two
bottles a day,
and often three, got to be routine. Sometimes a small deal would
net a few hundred
dollars, and I would pay my bills at the bars and
delicatessens.
This went on endlessly, and I began to waken very early in the
morning shaking
violently. A tumbler full of gin followed by half a dozen
bottles of beer
would be required if I were to eat any breakfast. Nevertheless,
I still thought I
could control the situation, and there were periods of
sobriety which
renewed my wife's hope.
Gradually
things got worse. The house was taken over by the mortgage holder,
my mother-in-law
died, my wife and father-in-law became ill.
Then I got a
promising business opportunity. Stocks were at the low point of
1932, and I had
somehow formed a group to buy. I was to share generously in the
profits. Then I
went on a prodigious bender, and that chance vanished.
I woke up.
This had to be stopped. I saw I could not take so much as one
drink. I was
through forever. Before then, I had written lots of sweet promises,
but my wife
happily observed that this time I meant business. And so I did.
Shortly
afterward I came home drunk. There had been no fight. Where had been
my high resolve?
I simply didn't know. It hadn't even come to mind. Someone had
pushed a drink my
way, and I had taken it. Was I crazy? I began to wonder, for
such an appalling
lack of perspective seemed near being just that.
Renewing my
resolve, I tried again. Some time passed, and confidence began
to be replaced by
cocksureness. I could laugh at the gin mills. Now I had what
it takes! One day
I walked into a cafe to telephone. In no time I was beating on
the bar asking
myself how it happened. As the whisky rose to my head I told
myself I would
manage better next time, but I might as well get good and drunk
then. And I did.
The remorse,
horror and hopelessness of the next morning are unforgettable.
The courage to do
battle was not there. My brain raced uncontrollably and there
was a terrible
sense of impending calamity. I hardly dared cross the street,
lest I collapse
and be run down by an early morning truck, for it was scarcely
daylight. An all
night place supplied me with a dozen glasses of ale. My
writhing nerves
were stilled at last. A morning paper told me the market had
gone to hell
again. Well, so had I. The market would recover, but I wouldn't.
That was a hard
thought. Should I kill myself? No not now. Then a mental fog
settled down. Gin
would fix that. So two bottles, and oblivion.
The mind and
body are marvelous mechanisms, for mine endured this agony two
more years.
Sometimes I stole from my wife's slender purse when the morning
terror and
madness were on me. Again I swayed dizzily before an open window, or
the medicine
cabinet where there was poison, cursing myself for a weakling.
There were
flights from city to country and back, as my wife and I sought
escape. Then came
the night when the physical and mental torture was so hellish
I feared I would
burst through my window, sash and all. Somehow I managed to
drag my mattress
to a lower floor, lest I suddenly leap. A doctor came with a
heavy sedative.
Next day found me drinking both gin and sedative. This
combination soon
landed me on the rocks. People feared for my sanity. So did I.
I could eat
little or nothing when drinking, and I was forty pounds under
weight.
My
brother-in-law is a physician, and through his kindness and that of my
mother I was
placed in a nationally-known hospital for the mental and physical
rehabilitation of
alcoholics. Under the so-called belladonna treatment my brain
cleared.
Hydrotherapy and mild exercise helped much. Best of all, I met a kind
doctor who
explained that though certainly selfish and foolish, I had been
seriously ill,
bodily and mentally.
It relieved
me somewhat to learn that in alcoholics the will is amazingly
weakened when it
comes to combating liquor, though if often remains strong in
other respects.
My incredible behavior in the face of a desperate desire to stop
was explained.
Understanding myself now, I fared forth in high hope. For three
or four months
the goose hung high. I went to town regularly and even made a
little money.
Surely this was the answer self- knowledge.
But it was
not, for the frightful day came when I drank once more. The curve
of my declining
moral and bodily health fell off like a ski-jump. After a time I
returned to the
hospital. This was the finish, the curtain, it seemed to me. My
weary and
despairing wife was informed that it would all end with heart failure
during delirium
tremens, or I would develop a wet brain, perhaps within a year.
We would soon
have to give me over to the undertaker of the asylum.
They did not
need to tell me. I knew, and almost welcomed the idea. It was a
devastating blow
to my pride. I, who had thought so well of myself and my
abilities, of my
capacity to surmount obstacles, was cornered at last. Now I was
to plunge into
the dark, joining that endless procession of sots who had gone on
before. I thought
of my poor wife. There had been much happiness after all. What
would I not give
to make amends. But that was over now.
No words can
tell of the loneliness and despair I found in that bitter
morass of
self-pity. Quicksand stretched around me in all directions. I had met
my match. I had
been overwhelmed. Alcohol was my master.
Trembling, I
stepped from the hospital a broken man. Fear sobered me for a
bit. Then came
the insidious insanity of that first drink, and on Armistice Day
1934, I was off
again. Everyone became resigned to the certainty that I would
have to be shut
up somewhere, or would stumble along to a miserable end. How
dark it is before
the dawn! In reality that was the beginning of my last
debauch. I was
soon to be catapulted into what I like to call the fourth
dimension of
existence. I was to know happiness, peace, and usefulness, in a way
of life that is
incredibly more wonderful as time passes.
Near the end
of that bleak November, I sat drinking in my kitchen. With a
certain
satisfaction I reflected there was enough gin concealed about the house
to carry me
through that night and the next day. My wife was at work. I wondered
whether I dared
hide a full bottle of gin near the head of our bed. I would need
it before
daylight.
My musing was
interrupted by the telephone. The cheery voice of an old
school friend
asked if he might come over. He was sober. It was years since I
could remember
his coming to New York in that condition. I was amazed. Rumor had
it that he had
been committed for alcoholic insanity. I wondered how he had
escaped. Of
course he would have dinner, and then I could drink openly with him.
Unmindful of his
welfare, I thought only of recapturing the spirit of other
days. There was
that time we had chartered an airplane to complete a jag! His
coming was an
oasis in this dreary desert of futility. The very thing an oasis!
Drinkers are like
that.
The door
opened and he stood there, fresh-skinned and glowing. There was
something about
his eyes. He was inexplicably different. What had happened?
I pushed a
drink across the table. He refused it. Disappointed but curious,
I wondered what
had got into the fellow. He wasn't himself.
"Come,
what's all this about? I queried.
He looked
straight at me. Simply, but smilingly, he said, "I've got
religion."
I was aghast.
So that was it last summer an alcoholic crackpot; now, I
suspected, a
little cracked about religion. He had that starry-eyed look. Yes,
the old boy was
on fire all right. But bless his heart, let him rant! Besides,
my gin would last
longer than his preaching.
But he did no
ranting. In a matter of fact way he told how two men had
appeared in
court, persuading the judge to suspend his commitment. They had told
of a simple
religious idea and a practical program of action. That was two
months ago and
the result was self-evident. It worked!
He had come
to pass his experience along to me if I cared to have it. I was
shocked, but
interested. Certainly I was interested. I had to be, for I was
hopeless.
He talked for
hours. Childhood memories rose before me. I could almost hear
the sound of the
preacher's voice as I sat, on still Sundays, way over there on
the hillside;
there was that proffered temperance pledge I never signed; my
grandfather's
good natured contempt of some church fold and their doings; his
insistence that
the spheres really had their music; but his denial of the
preacher's right
to tell him how he must listen; his fearlessness as he spoke of
these things just
before he died; these recollections welled up from the past.
They made me
swallow hard.
That war-time
day in old Winchester Cathedral came back again.
I had always
believed in a Power greater that myself. I had often pondered
these things. I
was not an atheist. Few people really are, for that means blind
faith in the
strange proposition that this universe originated in a cipher and
aimlessly rushes
nowhere. My intellectual heroes, the chemists, the astronomers,
even the
evolutionist, suggested vast laws and forces at work. Despite contrary
indications, I
had little doubt that a might purpose and rhythm underlay all.
How could there
be so much of precise and immutable law, and no intelligence? I
simply had to
believe in a Spirit of the Universe, who knew neither time nor
limitation. But
that was as far as I had gone.
With
ministers, and the world's religions, I parted right there. When they
talked of a God
personal to me, who was love, superhuman strength and direction,
I became
irritated and my mind snapped shut against such a theory. To Christ I
conceded the
certainty of a great man, not too closely followed by those who
claimed Him. His
moral teaching-most excellent. For myself, I had adopted those
parts which
seemed convenient and not too difficult; the rest I disregarded.
The wars
which had been fought, the burnings and chicanery that religious
dispute had
facilitated, made me sick. I honestly doubted whether, on balance,
the religions of
mankind had done any good. Judging from what I had seen in
Europe and
since, the power of God in human affairs was negligible, the
Brotherhood of
Man a grim jest. If there was a Devil, he seemed the Boss
Universal, and he
certainly had me.
But my friend
sat before me, and he made the pointblank declaration that God
had done for him
what he could not do for himself. His human will had failed.
Doctors had
pronounced him incurable. Society was about to lock him up. Like
myself, he had
admitted complete defeat. Then he had, in effect, been raised
from the dead,
suddenly taken from the scrap heap to a level of life better than
the best he had
ever known!
Had this
power originated in him? Obviously it had not. There had been no
more power in him
than there was in me at that minute; and this was none at all.
That floored
me. It began to look as though religious people were right
after all. Here
was something at work in a human heart which had done the
impossible. My
ideas about miracles were drastically revised right then. Never
mind the musty
past; here sat a miracle directly across the kitchen table. He
shouted great
tidings.
I saw that my
friend was much more than inwardly reorganized. He was on
different
footing. His roots grasped a new soil.
Despite the
living example of my friend there remained in me the vestiges of
my old prejudice.
The word God still aroused a certain antipathy. When the
thought was
expressed that there might be a God personal to me this feeling was
intensified. I
didn't like the idea. I could go for such conceptions as Creative
Intelligence,
Universal Mind or Spirit of Nature but I resisted the thought of
a Czar of the
Heavens, however loving His sway might be. I have since talked
with scores of
men who felt the same way.
My friend
suggested what then seemed a novel idea. He said, "Why don't you
choose your own
conception of God?"
That
statement hit me hard. It melted the icy intellectual mountain in whose
shadow I had
lived and shivered many years. I stood in the sunlight at last.
It was only a
matter of being willing to believe in a Power greater than
myself. Nothing
more was required of me to make my beginning. I saw that growth
could start from
that point. Upon a foundation of complete willingness I might
build what I saw
in my friend. Would I have it? Of course I would!
Thus was I
convinced that God is concerned with us humans when we want Him
enough. At long
last I saw, I felt, I believed. Scales of pride and prejudice
fell from my
eyes. A new world came into view.
The real
significance of my experience in the Cathedral burst upon me. For a
brief moment, I
had needed and wanted God. There had been a humble willingness
to have Him with
me-and He came. But soon the sense of His presence had been
blotted out by
worldly clamors, mostly those within myself. And so it had been
ever since. How
blind I had been.
At the
hospital I was separated from alcohol for the last time. Treatment
seemed wise, for
I showed signs of delirium tremens.
There I
humbly offered myself to God, as I then I understood Him, to do with
me as He would. I
placed myself unreservedly under His care and direction. I
admitted for the
first time that of myself I was nothing; that without Him I was
lost. I
ruthlessly faced my sins and became willing to have my new-found Friend
take them away,
root and branch. I have not had a drink since.
My schoolmate
visited me, and I fully acquainted him with my problems and
deficiencies. We
made a list of people I had hurt or toward whom I felt
resentment. I
expressed my entire willingness to approach these individuals,
admitting my
wrong. Never was I to be critical of them. I was to right all such
matters to the
utmost of my ability.
I was to test
my thinking by the new God-consciousness within. Common sense
would thus become
uncommon sense. I was to sit quietly when in doubt, asking
only for
direction and strength to meet my problems as He would have me. Never
was I to pray for
myself, except as my requests bore on my usefulness to others.
Then only might I
expect to receive. But that would be in great measure.
My friend
promised when these things were done I would enter upon a new
relationship with
my Creator; that I would have the elements of a way of living
which answered
all my problems. Belief in the power of God, plus enough
willingness,
honesty and humility to establish and maintain the new order of
things, were the
essential requirements. Simple, but not easy; a price had to
be paid. It meant
destruction of self-centeredness. I must turn in all things to
the Father of
Light who presides over us all. These were revolutionary and
drastic
proposals, but the moment I fully accepted them, the effect was
electric. There
was a sense of victory, followed by such a peace and serenity as
I had never know.
There was utter confidence. I felt lifted up, as though the
great clean wind
of a mountain top blew through and through. God comes to most
men gradually,
but His impact on me was sudden and profound. For a moment I was
alarmed, and
called my friend, the doctor, to ask if I were still sane. He
listened in
wonder as I talked. Finally he shook his head saying, "Something has
happened to you I
don't understand. But you had better hang on to it. Anything
is better than
the way you were." The good doctor now sees many men who have
such experiences.
He knows that they are real. While I lay in the hospital the
thought came that
there were thousands of hopeless alcoholics who might be glad
to have what had
been so freely given me. Perhaps I could help some of them.
They in turn
might work with others. My friend had emphasized the absolute
necessity of
demonstrating these principles in all my affairs. Particularly was
it imperative to
work with others as he had worked with me. Faith without works
was dead, he
said. And how appallingly true for the alcoholic! For if an
alcoholic failed
to perfect and enlarge his spiritual life through work and
self-sacrifice
for others, he could not survive the certain trials and low spots
ahead. If he did
not work, he would surely drink again, and if he drank, he
would surely die.
Then faith would be dead indeed. With us it is just like that.
to TOP of Page
My wife and I
abandoned ourselves with enthusiasm to the idea of helping
other alcoholics
to a solution of their problems. It was fortunate, for my old
business
associates remained skeptical for a year and a half, during which I
found little
work. I was not too well at the time, and was plagued by waves of
self-pity and
resentment. This sometimes nearly drove me back to drink, but I
soon found that
when all other measure failed, work with another alcoholic would
save the day.
Many times I have gone to my old hospital in despair. On talking
to a man there, I
would be amazingly lifted up and set on my feet. It is a
design for living
that works in rough going.
We commenced
to make many fast friends and a fellowship has grown up among
us of which it is
a wonderful thing to feel a part. The joy of living we really
have, even under
pressure and difficulty. I have seen hundreds of families set
their feet in
the path that really goes somewhere; have seen the most
impossible
domestic situations righted; feuds and bitterness of all sorts wiped
out. I have seen
men come out of asylums and resume a vital place in the lives
of their families
and communities. Business and professional men have regained
their standing.
There is scarcely any form of trouble and misery which has not
been overcome
among us. In one western city and its environs there are one
thousand of us
and our families. We meet frequently so that newcomers may find
the fellowship
they seek. At these informal gatherings one may often see from 50
to 200 persons.
We are growing in numbers and power.*
An alcoholic
in his cups is an unlovely creature. Our struggles with them
are variously
strenuous, comic, and tragic. One poor chap committed suicide in
my home. He could
not, or would not see our way of life.
There is,
however, a vast amount of fun about it all. I suppose some would
be shocked at our
seeming worldliness and levity. But just underneath there is
deadly
earnestness. Faith has to work twenty-four hours a day in and through us,
or we perish.
Most of us
feel we need look no further for Utopia. We have it with us right
here and now.
Each day my friend's simple talk in our kitchen multiplies itself
in a widening
circle of peace on earth and good will to men.
Bill W.
co-founder of A.A., died January, 1971.
* In 1982,
A.A. is composed of more than 42,000 groups.
Chapter 2
to TOP
There Is A
Solution
We, of
Alcoholics Anonymous, know thousands of men and women who were once
just as hopeless
as Bill. Nearly all have recovered. They have solved the drink
problem.
We are
average Americans. All sections of this country and many of its
occupations are
represented, as well as many political, economic, social, and
religious
backgrounds. We are people who normally would not mix. But there
exists among us a
fellowship, a friendliness, and an understanding which is
indescribably
wonderful. We are like the passengers of a great liner the moment
after rescue from
shipwreck when camaraderie, joyousness and democracy pervade
the vessel from
steerage to Captain's table. Unlike the feelings of the ship's
passengers,
however, our joy in escape from disaster does not subside as we go
our individual
ways. The feeling of having shared in a common peril is one
element in the
powerful cement which binds us. But that in itself would never
have held us
together as we are now joined.
The
tremendous fact for every one of us is that we have discovered a common
solution. We have
a way out on which we can absolutely agree, and upon which we
can join in
brotherly and harmonious action. This is the great news this book
carries to those
who suffer from alcoholism. An illness of this sort and we have
come to believe
it an illness involves those about us in a way no other human
sickness can. If
a person has cancer all are sorry for him and no one is angry
or hurt. But not
so with the alcoholic illness, for with it there goes
annihilation of
all the things worth while in life. It engulfs all whose lives
touch the
sufferer's. It brings misunderstanding, fierce resentment, financial
insecurity,
disgusted friends and employers, warped lives of blameless children,
sad wives and
parents anyone can increase the list.
We hope this
volume will inform and comfort those who are, or who may be
affected. There
are many.
Highly
competent psychiatrists who have dealt with us have found it
sometimes
impossible to persuade an alcoholic to discuss his situation without
reserve.
Strangely enough, wives, parents and intimate friends usually find us
even more
unapproachable than do the psychiatrist and the doctor.
But the
ex-problem drinker who has found this solution, who is properly
armed with facts
about himself, can generally win the entire confidence of
another alcoholic
in a few hours. Until such an understanding is reached, little
or nothing can be
accomplished.
That the man
who is making the approach has had the same difficulty, that he
obviously knows
what he is talking about, that his whole deportment shouts at
the new prospect
that he is a man with a real answer, that he has no attitude of
Holier Than
Thou, nothing whatever except the sincere desire to be helpful;
that there are no
fees to pay, no axes to grind, no people to please, no
lectures to be
endured these are the conditions we have found most effective.
After such an
approach many take up their beds and walk again.
None of us
makes a sole vocation of this work, nor do we think its
effectiveness
would be increased if we did. We feel that elimination of our
drinking is but a
beginning. A much more important demonstration of our
principles lies
before us in our respective homes, occupations and affairs. All
of us spend much
of our spare time in the sort of effort which we are going to
describe. A few
are fortunate enough to be so situated that they can give nearly
all their time to
the work.
If we keep on
the way we are going there is little doubt that much good will
result, but the
surface of the problem would hardly be scratched. Those of us
who live in large
cities are overcome by the reflection that close by hundreds
are dropping
into oblivion every day. Many could recover if they had the
opportunity we
have enjoyed. How then shall we present that which has been so
freely given us?
We have
concluded to publish an anonymous volume setting forth the problem
as we see it. We
shall bring to the task our combined experience and knowledge.
This should
suggest a useful program for anyone concerned with a drinking
problem.
Of necessity
there will have to be discussion of matters medical,
psychiatric,
social, and religious. We are aware that these matters are from
their very
nature, controversial. Nothing would please us so much as to write a
book which would
contain no basis for contention or argument. We shall do our
utmost to achieve
that ideal. Most of us sense that real tolerance of other
people's
shortcomings and viewpoints and a respect for their opinions are
attitudes which
make us more useful to others. Our very lives, as ex-problem
drinkers, depend
upon our constant thought of others and how we may help meet
their needs.
You may
already have asked yourself why it is that all of us became so very
ill from
drinking. Doubtless you are curious to discover how and why, in the
face of expert
opinion to the contrary, we have recovered from a hopeless
condition of mind
and body. If you are an alcoholic who wants to get over it,
you may already
be asking What do I have to do?"
It is the
purpose of this book to answer such questions specifically. We
shall tell you
what we have done. Before going into a detailed discussion, it
may be well to
summarize some points as we see them.
How many time
people have said to us: "I can take it or leave it alone. Why
can't he?"
"Why don't you drink like a gentleman or quit?" "That fellow
can't
handle his
liquor." "Why don't you try beer and wine?" "Lay off the
hard stuff."
"His will
power must be weak." "He could stop if he wanted to."
"She's such a
sweet girl, I
should think he'd stop for her sake." "The doctor told him that if
he ever drank
again it would kill him, but there he is all lit up again."
Now these are
commonplace observations on drinkers which we hear all the
time. Back of
them is a world of ignorance and misunderstanding. We see that
these expressions
refer to people whose reactions are very different from ours.
Moderate
drinkers have little trouble in giving up liquor entirely if they
have good reason
for it. They can take it or leave it alone.
Then we have
a certain type of hard drinker. He may have the habit badly
enough to
gradually impair him physically and mentally. It may cause him to die
a few years
before his time. If a sufficiently strong reason ill health, falling
in love, change
of environment, or the warning of a doctor becomes operative,
this man can also
stop or moderate, although he may find it difficult and
troublesome and
may even need medical attention.
But what
about the real alcoholic? He may start off as a moderate drinker;
he may or may not
become a continuous hard drinker; but at some stage of his
drinking career
he begins to lose all control of his liquor consumption, once he
starts to drink.
Here is a
fellow who has been puzzling you, especially in his lack of
control. He does
absurd, incredible, tragic things while drinking. He is a real
Dr. Jekyll and
Mr. Hyde. He is seldom mildly intoxicated. He is always more or
less insanely
drunk. His disposition while drinking resembles his normal nature
but little. He
may be one of the finest fellows in the world. Yet let him drink
for a day, and he
frequently becomes disgustingly, and even dangerously
anti-social. He
has a positive genius for getting tight at exactly the wrong
moment,
particularly when some important decision must be made or engagement
kept. He is often
perfectly sensible and well balanced concerning everything
except liquor,
but in that respect he is incredibly dishonest and selfish. He
often possesses
special abilities, skills, and aptitudes, and has a promising
career ahead of
him. He uses his gifts to build up a bright outlook for his
family and himself,
and then pulls the structure down on his head by a senseless
series of sprees.
He is the fellow who goes to bed so intoxicated he ought to
sleep the clock
around. Yet early next morning he searches madly for the bottle
he misplace the
night before. If he can afford it, he may have liquor concealed
all over his
house to be certain no one gets his entire supply away from him to
throw down the
wastepipe. As matters grow worse, he begins to use a combination
of high-powered
sedative and liquor to quiet his nerves so he can go to work.
Then comes the
day when he simply cannot make it and gets drunk all over again.
Perhaps he goes
to a doctor who gives him morphine or some sedative with which
to taper off.
Then he begins to appear at hospitals and sanitariums.
This is by no
means a comprehensive picture of the true alcoholic, as our
behavior patterns
vary. But this description should identify him roughly.
Why does he
behave like this? If hundreds of experiences have shown him that
one drink means
another debacle with all its attendant suffering and
humiliation, why
is it he takes that one drink? Why can't he stay on the water
wagon? What has
become of the common sense and will power that he still
sometimes
displays with respect to other matters?
Perhaps there
never will be a full answer to these questions. Opinions vary
considerably as
to why the alcoholic reacts differently from normal people. We
are not sure why,
once a certain point is reached, little can be done for him.
We cannot answer
the riddle.
We know that
while the alcoholic keeps away from drink, as he may do for
months or years,
he reacts much like other men. We are equally positive that
once he takes any
alcohol whatever into his system, something happens, both in
the bodily and
mental sense, which makes it virtually impossible for him to
stop. The
experience of any alcoholic will abundantly confirm this.
These
observations would be academic and pointless if our friend never took
the first drink,
thereby setting the terrible cycle in motion. Therefore, the
main problem of
the alcoholic centers in his mind, rather than in his body. If
you ask him why
he started on that last bender, the chances are he will offer
you any one of a
hundred alibis. Sometimes these excuses have a certain
plausibility, but
none of them really makes sense in the light of the havoc an
alcoholic's
drinking bout creates. They sound like the philosophy of the man
who, having a
headache, beats himself on the head with a hammer so that he can't
feel the ache. If
you draw this fallacious reasoning to the attention of an
alcoholic, he
will laugh it off, or become irritated and refuse to talk.
Once in a
while he may tell the truth. And the truth, strange to say, is
usually that he
has no more idea why he took that first drink than you have.
Some drinkers
have excuses with which they are satisfied part of the time. But
in their hearts
they really do not know why they do it. Once this malady has a
real hold, they
are a baffled lot. There is the obsession that somehow, someday,
they will beat
the game. But they often suspect they are down for the count.
How true this
is, few realize. In a vague way their families and friends
sense that these
drinkers are abnormal, but everybody hopefully awaits the day
when the sufferer
will rouse himself from his lethargy and assert his power of
will.
The tragic
truth is that if the man be a real alcoholic, the happy day may
not arrive. He
has lost control. At a certain point in the drinking of every
alcoholic, he
passes into a state where the most powerful desire to stop
drinking is of
absolutely no avail. This tragic situation has already arrived
in practically
every case long before it is suspected.
The fact is
that most alcoholics, for reasons yet obscure, have lost the
power of choice
in drink. Our so called will power becomes practically
nonexistent. We
are unable, at certain times, to bring into our consciousness
with sufficient
force the memory of the suffering and humiliation of even a week
or a month ago.
We are without defense against the first drink.
The almost
certain consequences that follow taking even a glass of beer do
not crowd into
the mind to deter us. If these thoughts occur, they are hazy and
readily
supplanted with the old threadbare idea that this time we shall handle
ourselves like
other people. There is a complete failure of the kind of defense
that keeps one
from putting his hand on a hot stove.
The alcoholic
may say to himself in the most casual way, "It won't burn me
this time, so
here's how!" Or perhaps he doesn't think at all. How often have
some of us begun
to drink in this nonchalant way, and after the third or
fourth, pounded
on the bar and said to ourselves, "For God's sake, how did I
ever get started
again?" Only to have that thought supplanted by "Well, I'll
stop with the
sixth drink." Or "What's the use anyhow?"
When this
sort of thinking is fully established in an individual with
alcoholic
tendencies, he has probably placed himself beyond human aid, and
unless locked up,
may die or to permanently insane. These stark and ugly facts
have been
confirmed by legions of alcohoholics throughout history. But for the
grace of God,
there would have been thousands more convincing demonstrations. So
many want to stop
but cannot.
There is a
solution. Almost none of us liked the self- searching, the
leveling of our
pride, the confession of shortcomings which the process requires
for its
successful consummation. But we saw that it really worked in others, and
we had come to
believe in the hopelessness and futility of life as we had been
living it. When,
therefore, we were approached by those in whom the problem had
been solved,
there was nothing left for us but to pick up the simple kit of
spiritual tools
laid at out feet. We have found much of heaven and we have been
rocketed into a
fourth dimension of existence of which we had not even dreamed.
The great
fact is just this, and nothing less: That we have had deep and
effective
spiritual experiences* which have revolutionized our whole attitude
toward life,
toward our fellows and toward God's universe. The central fact of
our lives today
is the absolute certainty that our Creator has entered into our
hearts and lives
in a way which is indeed miraculous. He has commenced to
accomplish those
things for us which we could never do by ourselves.
If you are as
seriously alcoholic as we were, we believe there is no
middle-of-the-road
solution. We were in a position where life was becoming
impossible, and
if we had passed into the region from which there is no return
through human
aid, we had but two alternatives: One was to go on to the bitter
end, blotting out
the consciousness of our intolerable situation as best we
could; and the
other, to accept spiritual help. This we did because we honestly
wanted to, and
were willing to make the effort.
A certain
American business man had ability, good sense, and high character.
For years he had
floundered from one sanitarium to another. He had consulted the
best known
American psychiatrists. Then he had gone to Europe, placing himself
in the care of a
celebrated physician (the psychiatrist, Dr. Jung) who
prescribed for
him. Though experience had made him skeptical, he finished his
treatment with
unusual confidence. His physical and mental condition were
unusually good.
Above all, he believed he had acquired such a profound knowledge
of the inner
workings of his mind and its hidden springs that relapse was
unthinkable.
Nevertheless, he was drunk in a short time. More baffling still, he
could give
himself no satisfactory explanation for his fall.
So he
returned to this doctor, whom he admired, and asked him point-blank
why he could not
recover. He wished above all things to regain self-control. He
seemed quite
rational and well- balanced with respect to other problems. Yet he
had no control
whatever over alcohol. Why was this?
He begged the
doctor to tell him the whole truth, and he got it. In the
doctor's judgment
he was utterly hopeless; he could never regain his position in
society and he
would have to place himself under lock and key or hire a
bodyguard if he
expected to live long. That was a great physician's opinion.
But this man
still lives, and is a free man. He does not need a bodyguard
nor is he
confined. He can go anywhere on this earth where other from men may go
without disaster,
provided he remains willing to maintain a certain simple
attitude.
Some of our
alcoholic readers may think they can do without spiritual help.
Let us tell you
the rest of the conversation our friend had with his doctor.
The doctor
said: "You have the mind of a chronic alcoholic. I have never
seen one single
case recover, where that state of mind existed to the extent
that it does in
you." Our friend felt as though the gates of hell had closed on
him with a clang.
He said to
the doctor, "Is there no exception?"
"Yes," replied the doctor, "there is. Exceptions to cases such
as yours have
been occurring
since early times. Here and there, once in a while, alcoholics
have had what
are called vital spiritual experiences. To me these occurrences
are phenomena.
They appear to be in the nature of huge emotional displacements
and
rearrangements. Ideas, emotions, and attitudes which were once the guiding
forces of the
lives of these men are suddenly cast to one side, and a completely
new set of
conceptions and motives begin to dominate them. In fact, I have been
trying to produce
some such emotional rearrangement within you. With many
individuals the
methods which I employed are successful, but I have never been
successful with
an alcoholic of your description."*
Upon hearing
this, our friend was somewhat relieved, for he reflected that,
after all, he was
a good church member. This hope, however, was destroyed by the
doctor's telling
him that while his religious convictions were very good, in his
case they did
not spell the necessary vital spiritual experience. Here was the
terrible dilemma
in which our friend found himself when he had the extraordinary
experience, which
as we have already told you, made him a free man.
We, in our
turn, sought the same escape with all the desperation of drowning
men. What seemed
at first a flimsy reed, has proved to be the loving and
powerful hand of
God. A new life has been given us or, if you prefer, "a design
for living"
that really works.
The
distinguished American psychologist, William James, in his book
"Varieties
of Religious Experience," indicates a multitude of ways in which men
have discovered God.
We have no desire to convince anyone that there is only one
way by which
faith can be acquired. If what we have learned and felt and seen
means anything at
all, it means that all of us, whatever our race, creed, or
color are the
children of a living Creator with whom we may form a relationship
upon simple and
understandable terms as soon as we are willing and honest enough
to try. Those
having religious affiliations will find here nothing disturbing to
their beliefs or
ceremonies. There is no friction among us over such matters.
We think it
no concern of ours what religious bodies our members identify
themselves with
as individuals. this should be an entirely personal affair which
each one decides
for himself in the light of past associations, or his present
choice. Not all
of join religious bodies, but most of us favor such
memberships.
In the
following chapter, there appears an explanation of alcoholism, as we
understand it,
then a chapter addressed to the agnostic. Many who once were in
this class are
now among our members. Surprisingly enough, we find such
convictions no
great obstacle to a spiritual experience.
Further on,
clear-cut directions are given showing how we recovered. These
are followed by
three dozen personal experiences.
Each
individual, in the personal stories, describes in his own language and
from his own
point of view the way he established his relationship with God.
These give a fair
cross section of our membership and a clear-cut idea of what
has actually
happened in their lives.
We hope no
one will consider these self-revealing accounts in bad taste. Our
hope is that many
alcoholic men and women, desperately in need, will see these
pages, and we
believe that it is only by fully disclosing ourselves and our
problems that
they will be persuaded to say, "Yes, I am one of them too; I must
have this
thing."
Chapter 3
to TOP
More About
Alcoholism
Most of us
have been unwilling to admit we were real alcoholics. No person
likes to think he
is bodily and mentally different from his fellows. Therefore,
it is not
surprising that our drinking careers have been characterized by
countless vain
attempts to prove we could drink like other people. 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.
We learned
that we had to fully concede to our innermost selves that we were
alcoholics. This
is the first step in recovery. The delusion that we are like
other people, or
presently may be, has to be smashed.
We alcoholics
are men and women who have lost the ability to control our
drinking. We know
that no real alcoholic ever recovers control. All of us felt
at times that we
were regaining control, but such intervals usually brief were
inevitably
followed by still less control, which led in time to pitiful and
incomprehensible
demoralization. We are convinced to a man that alcoholics of
our type are in
the grip of a progressive illness. Over any considerable period
we get worse,
never better.
We are like
men who have lost their legs; they never grow new ones. Neither
does there appear
to be any kind of treatment which will make alcoholics of our
kind like other
men. We have tried every imaginable remedy. In some instances
there has been
brief recovery, followed always by a still worse relapse.
Physicians who
are familiar with alcoholism agree there is no such thing a
making a normal
drinker out of an alcoholic. Science may one day accomplish
this, but it
hasn't done so yet.
Despite all
we can say, many who are real alcoholics are not going to
believe they are
in that class. By every form of self- deception and
experimentation,
they will try to prove themselves exceptions to the rule,
therefore
nonalcoholic. If anyone who is showing inability to control his
drinking can do
the right-about- face and drink like a gentleman, our hats are
off to him.
Heaven knows, we have tried hard enough and long enough to drink
like other
people!
Here are some
of the methods we have tried: Drinking beer only, limiting the
number of drinks,
never drinking alone, never drinking in the morning, drinking
only at home,
never having it in the house, never drinking during business
hours, drinking
only at parties, switching from scotch to brandy, drinking only
natural wines,
agreeing to resign if ever drunk on the job, taking a trip, not
taking a trip,
swearing off forever (with and without a solemn oath), taking
more physical
exercise, reading inspirational books, going to health farms and
sanitariums, accepting
voluntary commitment to asylums we could increase the
list ad
infinitum.
We do not
like to pronounce any individual as alcoholic, but you can quickly
diagnose
yourself, step over to the nearest barroom and try some controlled
drinking. Try to
drink and stop abruptly. Try it more than once. It will not
take long for you
to decide, if you are honest with yourself about it. It may be
worth a bad case
of jitters if you get a full knowledge of your condition.
Though there
is no way of proving it, we believe that early in our drinking
careers most of
us could have stopped drinking. But the difficulty is that few
alcoholics have
enough desire to stop while there is yet time. We have heard of
a few instances
where people, who showed definite signs of alcoholism, were able
to stop for a
long period because of an overpowering desire to do so. Here is
one.
A man of
thirty was doing a great deal of spree drinking. He was very
nervous in the
morning after these bouts and quieted himself with more liquor.
He was ambitious
to succeed in business, but saw that he would get nowhere if he
drank at all.
Once he started, he had no control whatever. He made up his mind
that until he had
been successful in business and had retired, he would not
touch another
drop. An exceptional man, he remained bone dry for twenty-five
years and retired
at the age of fifty-five, after a successful and happy
business career.
Then he fell victim to a belief which practically every
alcoholic has
that his long period of sobriety and self-discipline had qualified
him to drink as
other men. Out came his carpet slippers and a bottle. In two
months he was in
a hospital, puzzled and humiliated. He tried to regulate his
drinking for a
little while, making several trips to the hospital meantime.
Then, gathering
all his forces, he attempted to stop altogether and found he
could not. Every
means of solving his problem which money could buy was at his
disposal. Every
attempt failed. Though a robust man at retirement, he went to
pieces quickly
and was dead within four years.
This case
contains a powerful lesson. most of us have believed that if we
remained sober
for a long stretch, we could thereafter drink normally. But here
is a man who at
fifty-five years found he was just where he had left off at
thirty. We have
seen the truth demonstrated again and again: "Once an alcoholic,
always an
alcoholic." Commencing to drink after a period of sobriety, we are in
a short time as
bad as ever. If we are planning to stop drinking , there must be
no reservation of
any kind, nor any lurking notion that someday we will be
immune to
alcohol.
Young people
may be encouraged by this man's experience to think that they
can stop, as he
did, on their own will power. We doubt if many of them can do
it, because none
will really want to stop, and hardly one of them, because of
the peculiar
mental twist already acquired, will find he can win out. Several of
our crowd, men of
thirty or less, had been drinking only a few years, but they
found themselves
as helpless as those who had been drinking twenty years.
To be gravely
affected, one does not necessarily have to drink a long time
nor take the
quantities some of us have. This is particularly true of women.
Potential female
alcoholics often turn into the real thing and are gone beyond
recall in a few
years. Certain drinkers, who would be greatly insulted if called
alcoholics, are
astonished at their inability to stop. We, who are familiar with
the symptoms, see
large numbers of potential alcoholics among young people
everywhere. But
try and get them to see it!
As we look
back, we feel we had gone on drinking many years beyond the point
where we could quit
on our will power. If anyone questions whether he has
entered this
dangerous area, let him try leaving liquor alone for one year. If
he is a real
alcoholic and very far advanced, there is scant chance of success.
In the early days
of our drinking we occasionally remained sober for a year or
more, becoming
serious drinkers again later. Though you may be able to stop for
a considerable
period, you may yet be a potential alcoholic. We think few, to
whom this book
will appeal, can stay dry anything like a year. Some will be
drunk the day
after making their resolutions; most of them within a few weeks.
For those who
are unable to drink moderately the question is how to stop
altogether. We
are assuming, of course, that the reader desires to stop. Whether
such a person can
quit upon a nonspiritual basis depends upon the extent to
which he has
already lost the power to choose whether he will drink or not. Many
of us felt that
we had plenty of character. There was a tremendous urge to cease
forever. Yet we
found it impossible. This is the baffling feature of alcoholism
as we know it
this utter inability to leave it alone, no matter how great the
necessity or the
wish.
How then
shall we help our readers determine, to their own satisfaction,
whether they are
one of us? The experiment of quitting for a period of time will
be helpful, but
we think we can render an even greater service to alcoholic
sufferers and
perhaps to the medical fraternity. So we shall describe some of
the mental states
that precede a relapse into drinking, for obviously this is
the crux of the
problem.
What sort of
thinking dominates an alcoholic who repeats time after time the
desperate
experiment of the first drink? Friends who have reasoned with him
after a spree
which has brought him to the point of divorce or bankruptcy are
mystified when he
walks directly into a saloon. Why does he? Of what is he
thinking?
Our first
example is a friend we shall call Jim. This man has a charming
wife and family.
He inherited a lucrative automobile agency. He had a
commendable World
War record. He is a good salesman. Everybody likes him. He is
an intelligent
man, normal so far as we can see, except for a nervous
disposition. He
did no drinking until he was thirty-five. In a few years he
became so
violent when intoxicated that he had to be committed. On leaving the
asylum he came
into contact with us.
We told him
what we knew of alcoholism and the answer we had found. He made
a beginning. His
family was re- assembled, and he began to work as a salesman
for the business
he had lost through drinking. All went well for a time, but he
failed to
enlarge his spiritual life. To his consternation, he found himself
drunk half a
dozen times in rapid succession. On each of these occasions we
worked with him,
reviewing carefully what had happened. He agreed he was a real
alcoholic and in
a serious condition. He knew he faced another trip to the
asylum if he kept
on. Moreover, he would lose his family for whom he had a deep
affection. Yet he
got drunk again. we asked him to tell us exactly how it
happened. This is
his story: "I came to work on Tuesday morning. I remember I
felt irritated
that I had to be a salesman for a concern I once owned. I had a
few words with
the brass, but nothing serious. Then I decided to drive to the
country and see
one of my prospects for a car. On the way I felt hungry so I
stopped at a
roadside place where they have a bar. I had no intention of
drinking. I just
thought I would get a sandwich. I also had the notion that I
might find a
customer for a car at this place, which was familiar for I had been
going to it for
years. I had eaten there many times during the months I was
sober. I sat down
at a table and ordered a sandwich and a glass of milk. Still
no thought of
drinking. I ordered another sandwich and decided to have another
glass of milk.
"Suddenly the thought crossed my mind that if I were to put an ounce of
whiskey in my
milk it couldn't hurt me on a full stomach. I ordered a whiskey
and poured it
into the milk. I vaguely sense I was not being any too smart, but
I reassured as I
was taking the whiskey on a full stomach. The experiment went
so well that I ordered
another whiskey and poured it into more milk. That didn't
seem to bother me
so I tried another."
Thus started
one more journey to the asylum for Jim. Here was the threat of
commitment, the
loss of family and position, to say nothing of that intense
mental and
physical suffering which drinking always caused him. He had much
knowledge about
himself as an alcoholic. Yet all reasons for not drinking were
easily pushed
aside in favor of the foolish idea that he could take whiskey if
only he mixed it
with milk!
Whatever the
precise definition of the word may be, we call this plain
insanity. How can
such a lack of proportion, of the ability to think straight,
be called
anything else?
You may think
this an extreme case. To us it is not far- fetched, for this
kind of thinking
has been characteristic of every single one of us. We have
sometimes
reflected more than Jim did upon the consequences. But there was
always the
curious mental phenomenon that parallel with our sound reasoning
there inevitably
ran some insanely trivial excuse for taking the first drink.
Our sound
reasoning failed to hold us in check. The insane idea won out. Next
day we would ask
ourselves, in all earnestness and sincerity, how it could have
happened.
In some
circumstances we have gone out deliberately to get drunk, feeling
ourselves
justified by nervousness, anger, worry, depression, jealousy or the
like. But even in
this type of beginning we are obliged to admit that our
justification
for a spree was insanely insufficient in the light of what always
happened. We now
see that when we began to drink deliberately, instead or
casually, there
was little serious or effective thought during the period of
premeditation of
what the terrific consequences might be.
Our behavior
is as absurd and incomprehensible with respect to the first
drink as that of
an individual with a passion, say, for jay-walking. He gets a
thrill out of
skipping in front of fast-moving vehicles. He enjoys himself for a
few years in
spite of friendly warnings. Up to this point you would label him as
a foolish chap
having queer ideas of fun. Luck then deserts him and he is
slightly injured
several times in succession. You would expect him, if he were
normal, to cut it
out. Presently he is hit again and this time has a fractured
skull. Within a
week after leaving the hospital a fast-moving trolley car breaks
his arm. He
tells you he has decided to stop jay-walking for good, but in a few
weeks he breaks
both legs.
On through
the years this conduct continues, accompanied by his continual
promises to be
careful or to keep off the streets altogether. Finally, he can no
longer work, his
wife gets a divorce and he is held up to ridicule. He tries
every known means
to get the jaywalking idea out of his head. He shuts himself
up in an asylum,
hoping to mend his ways. But the day he comes out he races in
front of a fire
engine, which breaks his back. Such a man would be crazy,
wouldn't he?
You may think
our illustration is too ridiculous. But is it? We, who have
been through the
wringer, have to admit if we substituted alcoholism for
jay-walking, the
illustration would fit exactly. However intelligent we may have
been in other
respects, where alcohol has been involved, we have been strangely
insane. It's
strong language but isn't it true?
Some of you
are thinking: "Yes, what you tell is true, but it doesn't fully
apply. We admit
we have some of these symptoms, but we have not gone to the
extremes you
fellows did, nor are we likely to, for we understand ourselves so
well after what
you have told us that such things cannot happen again. We have
not lost
everything in life through drinking and we certainly do not intend to.
Thanks for the
information."
That may be
true of certain nonalcoholic people who, though drinking
foolishly and
heavily at the present time, are able to stop or moderate, because
their brains and
bodies have not been damaged as ours were. But the actual or
potential
alcoholic, with hardly any exception, will be absolutely unable to
stop drinking on
the basis of self-knowledge. This is a point we wish to
emphasize and
re-emphasize, to smash home upon our alcoholic readers as it has
been revealed to
us out of bitter experience. Let us take another illustration.
Fred is a
partner in a well known accounting firm. His income is good, he
has a fine home,
is happily married and the father of promising children of
college age. He
has so attractive a personality that he makes friends with
everyone. If ever
there was a successful business man, it is Fred. To all
appearance he is
a stable, well balanced individual. Yet, he is alcoholic. We
first saw Fred
about a year ago in a hospital where he had gone to recover from
a bad case of
jitters. It was his first experience of this kind, and he was much
ashamed of it.
Far from admitting he was an alcoholic , he told himself he came
to the hospital
to rest his nerves. The doctor intimated strongly that he might
be worse than he
realized. For a few days he was depressed about his condition.
He made up his
mind to quit drinking altogether. It never occurred to him that
perhaps he could
not do so, in spite of his character and standing. Fred would
not believe
himself an alcoholic, much less accept a spiritual remedy for his
problem. We told
him what we knew about alcoholism. He was interested and
conceded that he
had some of the symptoms, but he was a long way from admitting
that he could do
nothing about it himself. He was positive that this humiliating
experience, plus
the knowledge he had acquired, would keep him sober the rest of
his life. Self-
knowledge would fix it.
We heard no
more of Fred for a while. One day we were told that he was back
in the hospital.
This time he was quite shaky. He soon indicated he was anxious
to see us. The
story he told is most instructive, for here was a chap absolutely
convinced he had
to stop drinking, who had no excuse for drinking, who
exhibited
splendid judgment and determination in all his other concerns, yet was
flat on his back
nevertheless.
Let him tell
you about it: "I was much impressed with what you fellows said
about alcoholism,
and I frankly did not believe it would be possible for me to
drink again. I
rather appreciated your ideas about the subtle insanity which
precedes the
first drink, but I was confident it could not happen to me after
what I had
learned. I reasoned I was not so far advanced as most of you fellows,
that I had been
usually successful in licking my other personal problems, and
that I would
therefore be successful where you men failed. I felt I had every
right to be self-
confident, that it would be only a matter of exercising my
will power and
keeping on guard.
"In this
frame of mind, I went about my business and for a time all was
well. I had no
trouble refusing drinks, and began to wonder if I had not been
making too hard
work of a simple matter. One day I went to Washington to present
some accounting
evidence to a government bureau. I had been out of town before
during this
particular dry spell, so there was nothing new about that.
Physically, I
felt fine. Neither did I have any pressing problems or worries. My
business came off
well, I was pleased and knew my partners would be too. It was
the end of a
perfect day, not a cloud on the horizon.
"I went
to my hotel and leisurely dressed for dinner. As I crossed the
threshold of the
dining room, the thought came to mind that it would be nice to
have a couple of
cocktails with dinner. That was all. Nothing more. I ordered a
cocktail and my
meal. Then I ordered another cocktail. After dinner I decided to
take a walk. When
I returned to the hotel it struck me a highball would be fine
before going to
bed, so I stepped into the bar and had one. I remember having
several more that
night and plenty next morning. I have a shadowy recollection
of being in a
airplane bound for New York, and of finding a friendly taxicab
driver at the
landing field instead of my wife. The driver escorted me for
several days. I
know little of where I went or what I said and did. Then came
the hospital with
the unbearable mental and physical suffering.
"As soon
as I regained my ability to think, I went carefully over that
evening in
Washington. Not only had I been off guard, I had made no fight
whatever against
the first drink. This time I had not thought of the
consequences at all.
I had commenced to drink as carelessly as thought the
cocktails were
ginger ale. I now remembered what my alcoholic friends had told
me, how they
prophesied that if I had an alcoholic mind, the time and place
would come I
would drink again. They had said that though I did raise a defense,
it would one day
give way before some trivial reason for having a drink. Well,
just that did
happen and more, for what I had learned of alcoholism did not
occur to me at
all. I knew from that moment that I had an alcoholic mind. I saw
that will power
and self- knowledge would not help in those strange mental blank
spots. I had
never been able to understand people who said that a problem had
them hopelessly
defeated. I knew then. It was the crushing blow.
"Two of
the members of Alcoholics Anonymous came to see me. They grinned,
which I didn't
like so much, and then asked me if I thought myself alcoholic and
if I were really
licked this time. I had to concede both propositions. They
piled on me heaps
of evidence to the effect that an alcoholic mentality, such as
I had exhibited
in Washington, was hopeless condition. They cited cases out of
their own
experience by the dozen. This process snuffed out the last flicker of
conviction that I
could do the job myself.
"Then
they outlined the spiritual answer and program of action which a
hundred of them
had followed successfully. Though I had been only a nominal
churchman, their
proposals were not, intellectually, hard to swallow. But the
program of
action, though entirely sensible, was pretty drastic. It meant I
would have to
throw several lifelong conceptions out of the window. That was not
easy. But the
moment I made up my mind to go through with the process, I had the
curious feeling
that my alcoholic condition was relieved, as in fact it proved
to be.
"Quite
as important was the discovery that spiritual principles would solve
all my problems.
I have since been brought into a way of living infinitely more
satisfying and, I
hope, more useful than the life I lived before. My old manner
of life was by no
means a bad one, but I would not exchange its best moments for
the worst I have
now. I would not go back to it even if I could."
Fred's story
speaks for itself. We hope it strikes home to thousands like
him. He had felt
only the first nip of the wringer. Most alcoholics have to be
pretty badly
mangled before they really commence to solve their problems.
Many doctors
and psychiatrists agree with our conclusions. One of these men,
staff member of a
world-renowned hospital, recently made this statement to some
of us: "What
you say about the general hopelessness of the average alcoholics'
plight is, in my
opinion, correct. As to two of you men, whose stories I have
heard, there is
no doubt in my mind that you were 100% hopeless, apart from
divine help. Had
you offered yourselves as patients at this hospital, I would
not have taken
you, if I had been able to avoid it. People like you are too
heartbreaking.
Though not a religious person, I have profound respect for the
spiritual
approach in such cases as yours. For most cases, there is virtually
no other
solution."
Once more:
The alcoholic at certain times has no effective mental defense
against the first
drink. Except in a few cases, neither he nor any other human
being can provide
such a defense. His defense must come from a Higher Power.
Chapter 4
to TOP
We Agnostics
In the
preceding chapters you have learned something of alcoholism. we hope
we have made
clear the distinction between the alcoholic and the non-alcoholic.
If, when you
honestly want to, you find you cannot quit entirely, or if when
drinking, you
have little control over the amount you take, you are probably
alcoholic. If
that be the case, you may be suffering from an illness which only
a spiritual
experience will conquer.
To one who
feels he is an atheist or agnostic such an experience seems
impossible, but
to continue as he is means disaster, especially if he is an
alcoholic of the
hopeless variety. To be doomed to an alcoholic death or to live
on a spiritual
basis are not always easy alternatives to face.
But it isn't
so difficult. About half our original fellowship were of
exactly that
type. At first some of us tried to avoid the issue, hoping against
hope we were not
true alcoholics. But after a while we had to face the fact that
we must find a
spiritual basis of life or else. Perhaps it is going to be that
way with you. But
cheer up, something like half of us thought we were atheists
or agnostics. Our
experience shows that you need not be disconcerted.
If a mere
code of morals or a better philosophy of life were sufficient to
overcome
alcoholism, many of us would have recovered long ago. But we found that
such codes and
philosophies did not save us, no matter how much we tried. We
could wish to be
moral, we could wish to be philosophically comforted, in fact,
we could will these
things with all our might, but the needed power wasn't
there. Our human
resources, as marshalled by the will, were not sufficient; they
failed
utterly. to TOP of Page
Lack of
power, that was our dilemma. we had to find a power by which we
could live, and
it had to be a Power greater than ourselves. Obviously. But
where and how
were we to find this Power?
Well, that's
exactly what this book is about. Its main object is to enable
you to find a
Power greater than yourself which will solve your problem. That
means we have
written a book which we believe to be spiritual as well as moral.
And it means, of
course, that we are going to talk about God. Here difficulty
arises with
agnostics. Many times we talk to a new man and watch his hope rise
as we discuss his
alcoholic problems and explain our fellowship. But his face
falls when we
speak of spiritual matters, especially when we mention God, for we
have re-opened a
subject which our man thought he had neatly evaded or entirely
ignored.
We know how
he feels. We have shared his honest doubt and prejudice. Some of
us have been
violently anti-religious. To others, the word "God" brought up a
particular idea
of Him with which someone had tried to impress them during
childhood.
Perhaps we rejected this particular conception because it seemed
inadequate. With
that rejection we imagined we had abandoned the God idea
entirely. We were
bothered with the thought that faith and dependence upon a
Power beyond
ourselves was somewhat weak, even cowardly. We looked upon this
world of warring
individuals, warring theological systems, and inexplicable
calamity, with
deep skepticism. We looked askance at many individuals who
claimed to be
godly. How could a Supreme Being have anything to do with it all?
And who could
comprehend a Supreme Being anyhow? Yet, in other moments, we found
ourselves
thinking, when enchanted by a starlit night, "Who, then, make all
this?" There
was a feeling of awe and wonder, but it was fleeting and soon lost.
Yes, we of
agnostic temperament have had these thoughts and experiences. Let
us make haste to
reassure you. We found that as soon as we were able to lay
aside prejudice
and express even a willingness to believe in a Power greater
than ourselves,
we commenced to get results, even though it was impossible for
any of us to
fully define or comprehend that Power, which is God.
Much to our
relief, we discovered we did not need to consider another's
conception of God.
Our own conception, however inadequate, was sufficient to
make the approach
and to effect a contact with Him. As soon as we admitted the
possible
existence of a Creative Intelligence, a Spirit of the Universe
underlying the
totality of things, we began to be possessed of a new sense of
power and
direction, provided we took other simple steps. We found that God does
not make too hard
terms with those who seek Him. To us, the Realm of Spirit is
broad, roomy, all
inclusive; never exclusive or forbidding to those who
earnestly seek.
It is open, we believe, to all men.
When,
therefore, we speak to you of God, we mean your own conception of God.
This applies,
too, to other spiritual expressions which you find in this book.
Do not let any
prejudice you may have against spiritual terms deter you from
honestly asking
yourself what they mean to you. At the start, this was all we
needed to
commence spiritual growth, to effect our first conscious relation with
God as we
understood Him. Afterward, we found ourselves accepting many things
which then seemed
entirely out of reach. That was growth, but if we wished to
grow we had to
begin somewhere. So we used our own conception, however limited
it was.
We needed to
ask ourselves but one short question. -"Do I now believe, or am
I even willing to
believe, that there is a Power greater than myself?" As soon
as a man can say
that he does believe, or is willing to believe, we emphatically
assure him that
he is on his way. It has been repeatedly proven among us that
upon this simple
cornerstone a wonderfully effective spiritual structure can be
built.*
That was
great news to us, for we had assumed we could not make use of
spiritual
principles unless we accepted many things on faith which seemed
difficult to
believe. When people presented us with spiritual approaches, how
frequently did we
all say, "I wish I had what that man has. I'm sure it would
work if I could
only believe as he believes. But I cannot accept as surely true
the many articles
of faith which are so plain to him." So it was comforting to
learn that we
could commence at a simpler level.
Besides a
seeming inability to accept much on faith, we often found
ourselves
handicapped by obstinacy, sensitiveness, and unreasoning prejudice.
Many of us have
been so touchy that even casual reference to spiritual things
make us bristle
with antagonism. This sort of thinking had to be abandoned.
Though some of
us resisted, we found no great difficulty in casting aside such
feelings. Faced
with alcoholic destruction, we soon became as open minded on
spiritual matters
as we had tried to be on other questions. In this respect
alcohol was a
great persuader. It finally beat us into a state of
reasonableness.
Sometimes this was a tedious process; we hope no one else will
prejudiced for as
long as some of us were.
The reader
may still ask why he should believe in a Power greater than
himself. We think
there are good reasons. Let us have a look at some of them.
The practical
individual of today is a stickler for facts and results.
Nevertheless, the
twentieth century readily accepts theories of all kinds,
provided they are
firmly grounded in fact. We have numerous theories, for
example, about
electricity. Everybody believes them without a murmur of doubt.
Why this ready
acceptance? Simply because it is impossible to explain what we
see, feel,
direct, and use, without a reasonable assumption as a starting point.
Everybody
nowadays, believes in scores of assumptions for which there is
good evidence,
but no perfect visual proof. And does not science demonstrate
that visual proof
is the weakest proof? It is being constantly revealed, as
mankind studies
the material world, that outward appearances are not inward
reality at all.
To illustrate:
The prosaic
steel girder is a mass of electrons whirling around each other
at incredible
speed. These tiny bodies are governed by precise laws, and these
laws hold true
throughout the material world, Science tells us so. We have no
reason to doubt
it. When, however, the perfectly logical assumption is suggested
that underneath
the material world and life as we see it, there is an All
Powerful,
Guiding, Creative Intelligence, right there our perverse streak comes
to the surface
and we laboriously set out to convince ourselves it isn't so. We
read wordy books
and indulge in windy arguments, thinking we believe this
universe needs no
God to explain it. Were our contentions true, it would follow
that life
originated out of nothing, means nothing, and proceeds nowhere.
Instead of
regarding ourselves as intelligent agents, spearheads of God's
ever advancing
Creation, we agnostics and atheists chose to believe that our
human
intelligence was the last word, the alpha and the omega, the beginning and
end of all.
Rather vain of us, wasn't it?
We, who have
traveled this dubious path, beg you to lay aside prejudice,
even against
organized religion. We have learned that whatever the human
frailties of
various faiths may be, those faiths have given purpose and
direction to
millions. People of faith have a logical idea of what life is all
about. Actually,
we used to have no reasonable conception whatever. We used to
amuse ourselves
by cynically dissecting spiritual beliefs and practices when we
might have
observed that many spiritually-minded persons of all races, colors,
and creeds were
demonstrating a degree of stability, happiness and usefulness
which we should
have sought ourselves. Instead, we looked at the human defects
of these people,
and sometimes used their shortcomings as a basis of wholesale
condemnation. We
talked of intolerance, while we were intolerant ourselves. We
missed the
reality and the beauty of the forest because we were diverted by the
ugliness of some
its trees. We never gave the spiritual side of life a fair
hearing.
In our
personal stories you will find a wide variation in the way each
teller approaches
and conceives of the Power which is greater than himself.
Whether we agree
with a particular approach or conception seems to make little
difference.
Experience has taught us that these are matters about which, for our
purpose, we need
not be worried. They are questions for each individual to
settle for
himself.
On one
proposition, however, these men and women are strikingly agreed.
Every one of them
has gained access to, and believe in, a Power greater than
himself. This
Power has in each case accomplished the miraculous, the humanly
impossible. As a
celebrated American statesman put it, "Let's look at the
record."
Here are
thousands of men and women, worldly indeed. They flatly declare
that since they
have come to believe in a Power greater than themselves, to take
a certain
attitude toward that Power, and to do certain simple things. There has
been a
revolutionary change in their way of living and thinking. In the face of
collapse and
despair, in the face of the total failure of their human resources,
they found that a
new power, peace, happiness, and sense of direction flowed
into them. This
happened soon after they wholeheartedly met a few simple
requirements.
Once confused and baffled by the seeming futility of existence,
they show the
underlying reasons why they were making heavy going of life.
Leaving aside the
drink question, they tell why living was so unsatisfactory.
They show how the
change came over them. When many hundreds of people are able
to say that the
consciousness of the Presence of God is today the most important
fact of their
lives, they present a powerful reason why one should have faith.
This world of
ours has made more material progress in the last century than
in all the
millenniums which went before. Almost everyone knows the reason.
Students of
ancient history tell us that the intellect of men in those days was
equal to the best
of today. Yet in ancient times, material progress was
painfully slow.
The spirit of modern scientific inquiry, research and invention
was almost
unknown. In the realm of the material, men's minds were fettered by
superstition,
tradition, and all sort of fixed ideas. Some of the contemporaries
of Columbus
thought a round earth preposterous. Others came near putting Galileo
to death for his
astronomical heresies.
We asked
ourselves this: Are not some of us just as biased and unreasonable
about the realm
of the spirit as were the ancients about the realm of the
material? Even in
the present century, American newspapers were afraid to print
an account of
the Wright brothers' first successful flight at Kittyhawk. Had
not all efforts
at flight failed before? Did not Professor Langley's flying
machine go to the
bottom of the Potomac River? Was it not true that the best
mathematical
minds had proved man could never fly? Had not people said God had
reserved this
privilege to the birds? Only thirty years later the conquest of
the air was
almost an old story and airplane travel was in full swing.
But in most
fields our generation has witnessed complete liberation in
thinking. Show
any longshoreman a Sunday supplement describing a proposal to
explore the moon
by means of a rocket and he will say, "I bet they do it maybe
not so long
either." Is not our age characterized by the ease with which we
discard old ideas
for new, by the complete readiness with which we throw away
the theory or
gadget which does not work for something new which does?
We had to ask
ourselves why we shouldn't apply to our human problems this
same readiness to
change our point of view. We were having trouble with personal
relationships, we
couldn't control our emotional natures, we were a prey to
misery and
depression, we couldn't make a living, we had a feeling of
uselessness, we
were full of fear, we were unhappy, we couldn't seem to be of
real help to
other people was not a basic solution of these bedevilments more
important than
whether we should see newsreels of lunar flight? Of course it
was.
When we saw
others solve their problems by a simple reliance upon the Spirit
of the Universe,
we had to stop doubting the power of God. Our ideas did not
work. But the God
idea did.
The Wright
brothers' almost childish faith that they could build a machine
which would fly
was the mainspring of their accomplishment. Without that,
nothing could
have happened. We agnostics and atheists were sticking to the idea
that self-
sufficiency would solve our problems. When others showed us that
"God-sufficiency
worked with them, we began to feel like those who had insisted
the Wrights would
never fly.
Logic is
great stuff. We like it. We still like it. It is not by chance we
were given the
power to reason, to examine the evidence of our sense, and to
draw conclusions.
That is one of man's magnificent attributes. We agnostically
inclined would
not feel satisfied with a proposal which does not lend itself to
reasonable
approach and interpretation. Hence we are at pains to tell why we
think our present
faith is reasonable, why we think it more sane and logical to
believe than not
to believe, why we say our former thinking was soft and mushy
when we threw up
our hands in doubt and said, "We don't know."
When we
became alcoholics, crushed by a self-imposed crises we could not
postpone or
evade, we had to fearlessly face the proposition that either God is
everything or
else He is nothing. God either is or He isn't. What was our choice
to be?
Arrived at
this point, we were squarely confronted with the question of
faith. We
couldn't duck the issue. Some of us had already walked far over the
Bridge of Reason
toward the desired shore of faith. The outlines and the promise
of the New Land
had brought lustre to tired eyes and fresh courage to flagging
spirits. Friendly
hands had stretched out in welcome. We were grateful that
Reason had
brought us so far. But somehow, we couldn't quite step ashore.
Perhaps we had
been leaning too heavily on reason that last mile and we did not
like to lose our
support.
That was
natural, but let us think a little more closely. Without knowing
it, had we not
been brought to where we stood by a certain kind of faith? For
did we not
believe in our own reasoning? did we not have confidence in our
ability to think?
What was that but a sort of faith? Yes, we had been faithful,
abjectly faithful
to the God of Reason. So, in one way or another, we discovered
that faith had
been involved all the time!
We found,
too, that we had been worshippers. What a state of mental
goose-flesh that
used to bring on! Had we not variously worshipped people,
sentiment,
things, money, and ourselves? And then, with a better motive, had we
not worshipfully
beheld the sunset, the sea, or a flower? Who of us had not
loved something
or somebody? How much did these feelings, these loves, these
worships, have to
do with pure reason? Little or nothing, we saw at last. Were
not these things the
tissue out of which our lives were constructed? Did not
these feelings,
after all, determine the course of our existence? It was
impossible to say
we had no capacity for faith, or love, or worship. In one form
or another we
had been living by faith and little else.
Imagine life
without faith! Were nothing left but pure reason, it wouldn't
be life. But we
believed in life of course we did. We could not prove life in
the sense that
you can prove a straight line is the shortest distance between
two points, yet,
there it was. Could we still say the whole thing was nothing
but a mass of
electrons, created out of nothing, meaning nothing, whirling on to
a destiny of
nothingness? Or course we couldn't. The electrons themselves seemed
more intelligent
than that. At least, so the chemist said.
Hence, we saw
that reason isn't everything. Neither is reason, as most of us
use it, entirely
dependable, thought it emanate from our best minds. What about
people who proved
that man could never fly? Yet we had been seeing another kind
of flight, a
spiritual liberation from this world, people who rose above their
problems. They
said God made these things possible, and we only smiled. We had
seen spiritual
release, but liked to tell ourselves it wasn't true.
Actually we
were fooling ourselves, for deep down in every man, woman, and
child, is the
fundamental idea of God. It may be obscured by calamity, by pomp,
by worship of
other things, but in some form or other it is there. For faith in
a Power greater
than ourselves, and miraculous demonstrations of that power in
human lives, are
facts as old as man himself.
We finally
saw that faith in some kind of God was a part of our make-up,
just as much as
the feeling we have for a friend. Sometimes we had to search
fearlessly, but
He was there. He was as much a fact as we were. We found the
Great Reality
deep down within us. In the last analysis it is only there that He
may be found. It
was so with us.
We can only
clear the ground a bit. If our testimony helps sweep away
prejudice,
enables you to think honestly, encourages you to search diligently
within yourself,
then, if you wish, you can join us on the Broad Highway. With
this attitude
you cannot fail. the consciousness of your belief is sure to come
to you.
In this book
you will read the experience of a man who thought he was an
atheist. His
story is so interesting that some of it should be told now. His
change of heart
was dramatic, convincing, and moving. Our friend was a
minister's son.
He attended church school, where he became rebellious at what he
thought an
overdose of religious education. For years thereafter he was dogged
by trouble and
frustration. Business failure, insanity, fatal illness, suicide
these calamities
in his immediate family embittered and depressed him. Post-war
disillusionment,
ever more serious alcoholism, impending mental and physical
collapse, brought
him to the point to self-destruction.
One night,
when confined in a hospital, he was approached by an alcoholic
who had known a
spiritual experience. Our friend's gorge rose as he bitterly
cried out:
"If there is a God, He certainly hasn't done anything for me!" But
later, alone in
his room, he asked himself this question: "Is it possible that
all the religious
people I have known are wrong?" While pondering the answer he
felt as though he
lived in hell. Then, like a thunderbolt, a great thought came.
It crowded out
all else:
"Who are
you to say there is no God?"
To top of
this chapter
This man
recounts that he tumbled out of bed to his knees. In a few seconds
he was
overwhelmed by a conviction of the Presence of God. It poured over and
through him with
the certainty and majesty of a great tide at flood. The
barriers he had
built through the years were swept away. He stood in the
Presence of
Infinite Power and Love. He had stepped from bridge to shore. For
the first time,
he lived in conscious companionship with his Creator.
Thus was our
friend's cornerstone fixed in place. No later vicissitude has
shaken it. His
alcoholic problem was taken away. That very night, years ago, it
disappeared. Save
for a few brief moments of temptation the though of drink has
never returned;
and at such times a great revulsion has risen up in him.
Seemingly he
could not drink even if he would. God had restored his sanity.
What is this
but a miracle of healing? Yet its elements are simple.
Circumstances
made him willing to believe. He humbly offered himself to his
Maker then he
knew.
Even so has
God restored us all to our right minds. To this man, the
revelation was
sudden. Some of us grow into it more slowly. But He has come to
all who have
honestly sought Him.
When we drew
near to Him He disclosed Himself to us!
Chapter 5
to TOP
How It Works
Rarely have
we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path.
Those who do not
recover are people who cannot or will not completely give
themselves to
this simple program, usually men and women who are
constitutionally
incapable of being honest with themselves. There are such
unfortunates.
They are not at fault; they seem to have been born that way. They
are naturally
incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which
demands rigorous
honesty. Their chances are less than average.
There are
those, too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders,
but many of them
do recover if they have the capacity to be honest.
Our stories
disclose in a general way what we used to be like, what
happened, and
what we are like now. If you have decided you want what we have
and are willing
to go to any length to get it - then you are ready to take
certain steps.
At some of
these we balked. thought we could find an easier, softer way. But
we could not.
With all the earnestness at our command, we beg of you to be
fearless and
thorough from the very start. Some of us have tried to hold on to
our old ideas and
the result was nil until we let go absolutely.
Remember that
we deal with alcohol, cunning, baffling, powerful! Without
help it is too
much for us. But there is One who has all power that One is God.
May you find Him
now!
Half measures
availed us nothing. We stood at the turning point. we asked
His protection
and care with complete abandon.
Here are the
steps we took, which are suggested as a program of recovery:
1. We
admitted we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become
unmanageable.
2. Came to
believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to
sanity.
3. Made a
decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as
we understood
Him.
4. Made a
searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.
5. Admitted
to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact
nature of our
wrongs.
6. Were
entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.
7. Humbly
asked Him to remove our shortcomings.
8. Made a
list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make
amends to them
all.
9. Made
direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so
would injure them
or others.
10. Continued
to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly
admitted it.
11. Sought
through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact
with God as we
understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and
the power to
carry that out.
12. Having
had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried
to carry this
message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our
affairs.
Many of us
exclaimed, "What an order! I can't go through with it." Do not be
discouraged. No
one among us has been able to maintain anything like perfect
adherence to
these principles. We are not saints. The point is, that we are
willing to grow
along spiritual lines. The principles we have set down are
guides to
progress. We claim spiritual progress rather than spiritual
perfection.
Our
description of the alcoholic, the chapter to the agnostic, and our
personal
adventure before and after make clear three pertinent ideas:
(a) That we
were alcoholic and could not manage our own lives.
(b) That
probably no human power could have relieved our alcoholism.
(c) That God
could and would if He were sought.
Being
convinced, we were at Step Three, which is that we decided to turn our
will and our life
over to God as we understood Him. Just what do we mean by
that, and just
what do we do?
The first
requirement is that we be convinced that any life run on self-will
can hardly be a
success. On that basis we are almost always in collision with
something or
somebody, even though our motives are good. Most people try to live
by
self-propulsion. Each person is like an actor who wants to run the whole
show; is forever
trying to arrange the lights, the ballet, the scenery and the
rest of the
players in his own way. If his arrangements would only stay put, if
only people would
do as he wished, the show would be great. Everybody, including
himself, would
be pleased. Life would be wonderful. In trying to make these
arrangements our
actor may sometimes be quite virtuous. He may be kind,
considerate,
patient, generous; even modest and self-sacrificing. On the other
hand, he may be
mean, egotistical, selfish and dishonest. But, as with most
humans, he is
more likely to have varied traits.
What usually
happens? The show doesn't come off very well. He begins to
think life
doesn't treat him right. He decides to exert himself more. He
becomes, on the
next occasion, still more demanding or gracious, as the case may
be. Still the
play does not suit him. Admitting he may be somewhat at fault, he
is sure that
other people are more to blame. He becomes angry, indignant,
self-pitying.
What is his basic trouble? Is he not really a self-seeker even
when trying to be
kind? Is he not a victim of the delusion that he can wrest
satisfaction and
happiness out of this world if he only manages well? Is it not
evident to all
the rest of the players that these are the things he wants? And
do not his
actions make each of them wish to retaliate, snatching all they can
get out of the
show? Is he not, even in his best moments, a producer of
confusion rather
than harmony?
Our actor is
self-centered, ego-centric, as people like to call it nowadays.
He is like the
retired business man who lolls in the Florida sunshine in the
winter
complaining of the sad state of the nation; the minister who sighs over
the sins of the
twentieth century; politicians and reformers who are sure all
would be Utopia
if the rest of the world would only behave; the outlaw safe
cracker who
thinks society has wronged him; and the alcoholic who has lost all
and is locked up.
Whatever our protestations, are not most of us concerned with
ourselves, our
resentments, or our self-pity?
Selfishness,
self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles.
Driven by a
hundred forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking, and self-pity,
we step on the
toes of our fellows and they retaliate. Sometimes they hurt us,
seemingly without
provocation, but we invariably find that at some time in the
past we have made
decisions based on self which later placed us in a position to
be hurt.
So our
troubles, we think, are basically of our own making. They arise out
of ourselves, and
the alcoholic is an extreme example of self-will run riot,
though he usually
doesn't think so. Above everything, we alcoholics must be rid
of this
selfishness. We must, or it kill us! God makes that possible. And there
often seems no
way of entirely getting rid of self without His aid. Many of us
had moral and
philosophical convictions galore, but we could not live up to them
even though we
would have liked to. Neither could we reduce our
self-centeredness
much by wishing or trying on our own power. We had to have
God's help.
This is the
how and the why of it. First of all, we had to quit playing God.
It didn't work.
Next, we decided that hereafter in this drama of life, God was
going to be our
Director. He is the Principal; we are His agents. He is the
Father, and we
are His children. Most Good ideas are simple, and this concept
was the keystone
of the new and triumphant arch through which we passed to
freedom.
When we
sincerely took such a position, all sorts of remarkable things
followed. We had
a new Employer. Being all powerful, He provided what we needed,
if we kept close
to Him and performed His work well. Established on such a
footing we became
less and less interested in ourselves, our own little plans
and designs. More
and more we became interested in seeing what we could
contribute to
life. As we felt new power flow in, as we enjoyed peace of mind,
as we discovered
we could face life successfully, as we became conscious of His
presence, we
began to lose our fear of today, tomorrow or the hereafter. We were
reborn.
We were now
at Step Three. Many of us said to our Maker, as we understood
Him: "God, I
offer myself to Thee - to build with me and to do with me as Thou
wilt. Relieve me
of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take
away my
difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would
help of Thy
Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always!" We
thought well
before taking this step making sure we were ready; that we could at
last abandon
ourselves utterly to Him.
We found it
very desirable to take this spiritual step with an understanding
person, such as
our wife, best friend, or spiritual adviser. But it is better to
meet God alone
than with one who might misunderstand. The wording was, of
course, quite
optional so long as we expressed the idea, voicing it without
reservation. This
was only a beginning, though if honestly and humbly made, an
effect, sometimes
a very great one, was felt at once.
Next we
launched out on a course of vigorous action, the first step of which
is a personal
housecleaning, which many of us had never attempted. Though our
decision was
vital and crucial step, it could have little permanent effect
unless at once
followed by a strenuous effort to face, and to be rid of, the
things in
ourselves which had been blocking us. Our liquor was but a symptom. So
we had to get
down to causes and conditions.to TOP of Page
Therefore, we
started upon a personal inventory. This was Step Four. A
business which
takes no regular inventory usually goes broke. Taking commercial
inventory is a
fact-finding and a fact-facing process. It is an effort to
discover the
truth about the stock-in-trade. One object is to disclose damaged
or unsalable
goods, to get rid of them promptly and without regret. If the owner
of the business is
to be successful, he cannot fool himself about values.
We did
exactly the same thing with our lives. We took stock honestly. First,
we searched out
the flaws in our make-up which caused our failure. Being
convinced that
self, manifested in various ways, was what had defeated us, we
considered its
common manifestations.
Resentment is
the "number one" offender. It destroys more alcoholics than
anything else.
From it stem all forms of spiritual disease, for we have been not
only mentally and
physically ill, we have been spiritually sick. When the
spiritual malady
is overcome, we straighten out mentally and physically. In
dealing with
resentments, we set them on paper. We listed people, institutions
or principle with
who we were angry. We asked ourselves why we were angry. In
most cases it was
found that our self-esteem, our pocketbooks, our ambitions,
our personal
relationships, (including sex) were hurt or threatened. So we were
sore. We were
"burned up." On our grudge list we set opposite each name our
injuries. Was it
our self-esteem, our security, our ambitions, our personal, or
sex relations,
which had been interfered with? We were usually as definite as
this example:
I'm
resentful at: The CauseAffects my
Mr.
BrownHis attention to my wife.Sex relations
Self-esteem (fear)
Told my
wife of my mistress.Sex relations
Self-esteem (fear)
Brown may
get my job at the officeSecurity
Self-esteem
Mrs.
JonesShe's a nut -- she snubbed me.Personal relations
She ship
committed her husband for drinking.
He's my
friend
She's a
gossip.Self-esteem
My
employerUnreasonable -- Unjust -- Overbearing - Threatens to fire me
for my drinking
and padding my expense account.
Self-esteem
(fear)
Security
My wife
Misunderstands and Pride --
Likes Brown
Wants house
put in her name.
Pride--Personal,
sex
relations --
Security
(fear)
TOP
We went back
through our lives. Nothing counted but thoroughness and
honesty. When we
were finished we considered it carefully. The first thing
apparent was
that this world and its people were often quite wrong. To conclude
that others were
wrong was as far as most of us ever got. The usual outcome was
that people
continued to wrong us and we stayed sore. Sometimes it was remorse
and then we were
sore at ourselves. But the more we fought and tried to have our
own way, the
worse matters got. As in war, the victor only seemed to win. Our
moments of
triumph were short-lived.
It is plain
that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to
futility and
unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we
squander the
hours that might have been worth while. But with the alcoholic,
whose hope is the
maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience, this
business of
resentment is infinitely grave. We found that it is fatal. For when
harboring such
feeling we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit.
The insanity of
alcohol returns and we drink again. And with us, to drink is to
die.
If we were to
live, we had to be free of anger. The grouch and the
brainstorm were
not for us. They may be the dubious luxury of normal men, but
for alcoholics
these things are poison.
We turned
back to the list, for it held the key to the future. We were
prepared to look
for it from an entirely different angle. We began to see that
the world and its
people really dominated us. In that state, the wrong-doing of
others, fancied
or real, had power to actually kill. How could we escape? We saw
that these
resentments must be mastered, but how? We could not wish them away
any more than
alcohol.
This was our
course: We realized that the people who wronged us were perhaps
spiritually sick.
Though we did not like their symptoms and the way these
disturbed us,
they, like ourselves, were sick too. We asked God to help us show
them the same
tolerance, pity, and patience that we would cheerfully grant a
sick friend. When
a person offended we said to ourselves, "This is a sick man.
How can I be
helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done."
We avoid
retaliation or argument. We wouldn't treat sick people that way. If
we do, we destroy
our chance of being helpful. We cannot be helpful to all
people, but at
least God will show us how to take a kindly and tolerant view of
each and every
one.
Referring to
our list again. Putting out of our minds the wrongs others had
done, we
resolutely looked for our own mistakes. Where had we been selfish,
dishonest,
self-seeking and frightened? Though a situation had not been entirely
our fault, we
tried to disregard the other person involved entirely. Where were
we to blame? The
inventory was ours, not the other man's. When we saw our faults
we listed them.
We placed them before us in black and white. We admitted our
wrongs honestly
and were willing to set these matters straight. to top of page
Notice that
the word "fear" is bracketed alongside the difficulties with Mr.
Brown, Mrs.
Jones, the employer, and the wife. This short word somehow touches
about every
aspect of our lives. It was an evil and corroding thread; the fabric
of our existence
was shot through with it. It set in motion trains of
circumstances
which brought us misfortune we felt we didn't deserve. But did not
we, ourselves,
set the ball rolling? Sometimes we think fear ought to be classed
with stealing. It
seems to cause more trouble.
We reviewed
our fears thoroughly. We put them on paper, even though we had
no resentment in
connection with them. We asked ourselves why we had them.
Wasn't it because
self-reliance failed us? Self-reliance was good as far as it
went, but it
didn't go far enough. Some of us once had great self-confidence,
but it didn't
fully solve the fear problem, or any other. When it made us
cocky, it was
worse.
Perhaps there
is a better way, we think so. For we are now on a different
basis of trusting
and relying upon God. We trust infinite God rather than our
finite selves. We
are in the world to play the role He assigns. Just to the
extent that we do
as we think He would have us, and humbly rely on Him, does He
enable us to
match calamity with serenity.
We never
apologize to anyone for depending upon our Creator. We can laugh at
those who think
spirituality the way of weakness. Paradoxically, it is the way
of strength. The
verdict of the ages is that faith means courage. All men of
faith have
courage. They trust their God. We never apologize for God. Instead we
let Him
demonstrate, through us, what He can do. We ask Him to remove our fear
and direct our
attention to what He would have us be. At once, we commence to
outgrow fear.
to top of page
Now about
sex. Many of needed an overhauling there. But above all, we
tried to be
sensible on this question. It's so easy to get way off the track.
Here we find
human opinions running to extremes - absurd extremes, perhaps. One
set of voices cry
that sex is a lust of our lower nature, a base necessity of
procreation.
Then we have
the voices who cry for sex and more sex; who bewail the
institution of
marriage; who think that most of the troubles of the race are
traceable to sex
causes. They think we do not have enough of it, or that it
isn't the right
kind. They see its significance everywhere. One school would
allow man no
flavor for his fare and the other would have us all on a straight
pepper diet. We
want to stay out of this controversy. We do not want to be the
arbiter of
anyone's sex conduct. We all have sex problems. We'd hardly be human
if we didn't.
What can we do about them?
We reviewed
our own conduct over the years past. Where had we been selfish,
dishonest, or
inconsiderate? Whom had we hurt? Did we unjustifiably arouse
jealousy,
suspicion or bitterness? Where were we at fault, what should we have
done instead? We
got this all down on paper and looked at it.
In this way
we tried to shape a sane and sound ideal for our future sex
life. We
subjected each relation to this test -was it selfish or not? We asked
God to mold our
ideals and help us to live up to them. We remembered always that
our sex powers
were God-given and therefore good, neither to be used lightly or
selfishly nor to
be despised and loathed.
Whatever our
ideal turns out to be, we must be willing to grow toward it. We
must be willing
to make amends where we have done harm, provided that we do not
bring about still
more harm in so doing. In other words, we treat sex as we
would any other
problem. In meditation, we ask God what we should do about each
specific matter.
The right answer will come, if we want it.
God alone can
judge our sex situation. Counsel with persons is often
desirable, but we
let God be the final judge. We realize that some people are as
fanatical about
sex as others are loose. We avoid hysterical thinking or advice.
Suppose we
fall short of the chosen ideal and stumble? Does this mean we are
going to get
drunk. Some people tell us so. But this is only a half-truth. It
depends on us and
on our motives. If we are sorry for what we have done, and
have the honest
desire to let God take us to better things, we believe we will
be forgiven and
will have learned our lesson. If we are not sorry, and our
conduct continues
to harm others, we are quite sure to drink. We are not
theorizing. These
are facts out of our experience.
To sum up
about sex: We earnestly pray for the right ideal, for guidance in
each questionable
situation, for sanity, and for the strength to do the right
thing. If sex is
very troublesome, we throw ourselves the harder into helping
others. We think
of their needs and work for them. This takes us out of
ourselves. It
quiets the imperious urge, when to yield would mean heartache.
If we have been
thorough about our personal inventory, we have written down
a lot. We have
listed and analyzed our resentments. We have begun to comprehend
their futility
and their fatality. We have commenced to see their terrible
destructiveness.
We have begun to learn tolerance, patience and good will
toward all men,
even our enemies, for we look on them as sick people. We have
listed the people
we have hurt by our conduct, and are willing to straighten out
the past if we
can.
In this book
you read again and again that faith did for us what we could
not do for
ourselves. We hope you are convinced now that God can remove whatever
self-will has
blocked you off from Him. If you have already made a decision, and
an inventory of
your grosser handicaps, you have made a good beginning. That
being so you have
swallowed and digested some big chunks of truth about
yourself.
Chapter 6
( Steps 5, 6, 7,
8, 9, 10, 11)
TOP
Having made
our personal inventory, what shall we do about it? We have been
trying to get a
new attitude, a new relationship with our Creator, and to
discover the
obstacles in our path. We have admitted certain defects; we have
ascertained in a
rough way what the trouble is; we have put our finger on the
weak times in our
personal inventory. Now these are about to be cast out. This
requires action
on our part, which, when completed, will mean that we have
admitted to God,
to ourselves, and to another human being, the exact nature of
our defects. This
brings us to the Fifth Step in the program of recovery
mentioned in the
preceding chapter.
This is
perhaps difficult, especially discussing our defects with another
person. We think
we have done well enough in admitting these things to
ourselves. There
is doubt about that. In actual practice, we usually find a
solitary
self-appraisal insufficient. Many of us thought it necessary to go much
further. We will
be more reconciled to discussing ourselves with another person
when we see good reasons
why we should do so. The best reason first: If we skip
this vital step,
we may not overcome drinking. Time after time newcomers have
tried to keep to
themselves certain facts about their lives. Trying to avoid
this humbling
experience, they have turned to easier methods. Almost invariably
they got drunk.
Having persevered with the rest of the program, they wondered
why they fell. We
think the reason is that they never completed their
housecleaning.
They took inventory all right, but hung on to some of the worst
items in stock.
They only thought they had lost their egoism and fear; they only
thought they had
humbled themselves. But they had not learned enough of
humility,
fearlessness and honesty, in the sense we find it necessary, until
they told someone
else all their life story.
More than
most people, the alcoholic leads a double life. He is very much
the actor. To the
outer world he presents his stage character. This is the one
he likes his
fellows to see. He wants to enjoy a certain reputation, but knows
in his heart he
doesn't deserve it.
The
inconsistency is made worse by the things he does on his sprees. Coming
to his sense, he
is revolted at certain episodes he vaguely remembers. These
memories are a nightmare.
He trembles to think someone might have observed him.
As far as he
can, he pushes these memories far inside himself. He hopes they
will never see
the light of day. He is under constant fear and tension, that
makes for more
drinking.
Psychologists
are inclined to agree with us. We have spent thousands of
dollars for
examinations. We know but few instances where we have given these
doctors a fair
break. We have seldom told them the whole truth nor have we
followed their
advice. Unwilling to be honest with these sympathetic men, we
were honest with
no one else. Small wonder many in the medical profession have a
low opinion of
alcoholics and their chance for recovery!
We must be
entirely honest with somebody if we expect to live long or
happily in this
world. Rightly and naturally, we think well before we choose the
person or persons
with whom to take this intimate and confidential step. Those
of us belonging
to a religious denomination which requires confession must, and
of course, will
want to go to the properly appointed authority whose duty it is
to receive it.
Though we have no religious conception, we may still do well to
talk with someone
ordained by an established religion. We often find such a
person quick to
see and understand our problem. Of course, we sometimes
encounter people
who do not understand alcoholics.
If we cannot
or would rather not do this, we search our acquaintance for a
close-mouthed,
understanding friend. Perhaps our doctor or psychologist will be
the person. It
may be one of our own family, but we cannot disclose anything to
our wives or our
parents which will hurt them and make them unhappy. We have no
right to save our
own skin at another person's expense. Such parts of our story
we tell to
someone who will understand, yet be unaffected. The rule is we must
be hard on
ourself, but always considerate of others.
Notwithstanding the great necessity for discussing ourselves with someone,
it may be one is
so situated that there is no suitable person available. If that
is so, this step
may be postponed, only, however, if we hold ourselves in
complete
readiness to go through with it at the first opportunity. We say this
because we are
very anxious that we talk to the right person. It is important
that he be able
to keep a confidence; that he fully understand and approve what
we are driving
at; that he will not try to change our plan. But we must not use
this as a mere
excuse to postpone.
When we
decide who is to hear our story, we waste not time. We have a
written inventory
and we are prepared for a long talk. We explain to our partner
what we are about
to do and why we have to do it. He should realize that we are
engaged upon a
life-and-death errand. Most people approached in this way will be
glad to help;
they will be honored by our confidence.
We pocket our
pride and go to it, illuminating every twist of character,
every dark cranny
of the past. Once we have taken this step, withholding
nothing, we are
delighted. We can look the world in the eye. We can be alone at
perfect peace and
ease. Our fears fall from us. We begin to feel the nearness of
our Creator. We
may have had certain spiritual beliefs, but now we begin to have
a spiritual
experience. The feeling that the drink problem has disappeared will
often come
strongly. We feel we are on the Broad Highway, walking hand in hand
with the Spirit
of the Universe.
Returning
home we find a place where we can be quiet for an hour, carefully
reviewing what we
have done. We thank God from the bottom of our heart that we
know Him better.
Taking this book down from our shelf we turn to the page which
contains the
twelve steps. Carefully reading the first five proposals we ask if
we have omitted
anything, for we are building an arch through which we shall
walk a free man
at last. Is our work solid so far? Are the stones properly in
place? Have we
skimped on the cement put into the foundation? Have we tried to
make mortar
without sand? If we can answer to our satisfaction, we then look at
Step Six. We have
emphasized willingness as being indispensable. Are we now
ready to let God
remove from us all the things which we have admitted are
objectionable? Can
He now take them all, everyone? If we still cling to
something we will
not let go, we ask God to help us be willing.
When ready,
we say something like this: "My Creator, I am now willing that
you should have
all of me, good and bad. I pray that you now remove from me
every single
defect of character which stands in the way of my usefulness to you
and my fellows.
Grant me strength, as I go out from here, to do your bidding.
Amen." We
have then completed Step Seven.
Now we need
more action, without which we find that "Faith without works is
dead." Let's
look at Steps Eight and Nine. We have a list of all persons we have
harmed and to
whom we are willing to make amends. We made it when we took
inventory. We
subjected ourselves to a drastic self- appraisal. Now we go out to
our fellows and
repair the damage done in the past. We attempt to sweep away the
debris which has
accumulated out of our effort to live on self-will and run the
show ourselves.
If we haven't the will to do this, we ask until it comes.
Remember it was
agreed at the beginning we would go to any lengths for victory
over alcohol.
Probably
there are still some misgivings. As we look over the list of
business
acquaintances and friends we have hurt, we may feel diffident about
going to some of
them on a spiritual basis. Let us be reassured. To some people
we need not, and
probably should not emphasize the spiritual feature on our
first approach.
We might prejudice them. At the moment we are trying to put our
lives in order.
But this is not an end in itself. Our real purpose is to fit
ourselves to be
of maximum service to God and the people about us. It is seldom
wise to approach
an individual, who still smarts from our injustice to him, and
announce that we
have gone religious. In the prize ring, this would be called
leading with the
chin. Why lay ourselves open to being branded fanatics or
religious bores?
We may kill a future opportunity to carry a beneficial message.
But our man is
sure to be impressed with a sincere desire to set right the
wrong. He is
going to be more interested in a demonstration of good will than in
our talk of
spiritual discoveries.
We don't use
this as an excuse for shying away from the subject of God. When
it will serve any
good purpose, we are willing to announce our convictions with
tact and common
sense. The question of how to approach the man we hated will
arise. It may be
he has done us more harm than we have done him and, though we
may have acquired
a better attitude toward him, we are still not too keen about
admitting our
faults. Nevertheless, with a person we dislike, we take the bit in
our teeth. It is
harder to go to an enemy than to a friend, but we find it much
more beneficial
to us. We go to him in a helpful and forgiving spirit,
confessing our
former ill feeling and expressing our regret.
Under no
condition do we criticize such a person or argue. Simply tell him
that we will
never get over drinking until we have done our utmost to straighten
out the past. We
are there to sweep off our side of the street, realizing that
nothing worth
while can be accomplished until we do so, never trying to tell him
what he should
do. His faults are not discussed. We stick to our own. If our
manner is calm,
frank, and open, we will be gratified with the result.
In nine cases
out of ten the unexpected happens. Sometimes the man we are
calling upon
admits his own fault, so feuds of years' standing melt away in an
hour. Rarely do
we fail to make satisfactory progress. Our former enemies
sometimes praise
what we are doing and wish us well. Occasionally, they will
offer assistance.
It should not matter, however, if someone does throw us out of
his office. We have
made our demonstration, done our part. It's water over the
dam.
Most
alcoholics owe money. We do not dodge our creditors. Telling them what
we are trying to
do, we make no bones about our drinking; they usually know it
anyway, whether
we think so or not. Nor are we afraid of disclosing our
alcoholism on
the theory it may cause financial harm. Approached in this way,
the most ruthless
creditor will sometimes surprise us. Arranging the best deal
we can we let
these people know we are sorry. Our drinking has made us slow to
pay. We must lose
our fear of creditors no matter how far we have to go, for we
are liable to
drink if we are afraid to face them.
Perhaps we
have committed a criminal offense which might land us in jail if
it were known to
the authorities. We may be short in our accounts and unable to
make good. We
have already admitted this in confidence to another person, but we
are sure we
would be imprisoned or lose our job if it were known. Maybe it's
only a petty
offense such as padding the expense account. Most of us have done
that sort of
thing. Maybe we are divorced, and have remarried but haven't kept
up the alimony to
number one. She is indignant about it, and has a warrant out
for our arrest.
That's a common form of trouble too.
Although
these reparations take innumerable forms, there are some general
principles which
we find guiding. Reminding ourselves that we have decided to go
to any lengths to
find a spiritual experience, we ask that we be given strength
and direction to
do the right thing, no matter what the personal consequences
may be. We may
lose our position or reputation or face jail, but we are willing.
We have to be. We
must not shrink at anything.
Usually,
however, other people are involved. Therefore, we are not to be the
hasty and foolish
martyr who would needlessly sacrifice others to save himself
from the
alcoholic pit. A man we know had remarried. Because of resentment and
drinking, he had
not paid alimony to his first wife. She was furious. She went
to court and got
an order for his arrest. He had commenced our way of life, had
secured a
position, and was getting his head above water. It would have been
impressive
heroics if he had walked up to the Judge and said, "Here I am."
We thought he
ought to be willing to do that if necessary, but if he were in
jail he could
provide nothing for either family. We suggested he write his first
wife admitting
his faults and asking forgiveness. He did, and also sent a small
amount of money.
He told her what he would try to do in the future. He said he
was perfectly
willing to go to jail is she insisted. Of course she did not, and
the whole
situation has only since been adjusted. Before taking drastic action
which might
implicate other people we secure their consent. If we have obtained
permission, have
consulted with others, asked God to help and the drastic step
is indicated we
must not shrink.
This brings
to mind a story about one of our friends. While drinking, he
accepted a sum of
money from a bitterly-hated business rival, giving him no
receipt for it.
He subsequently denied having received the money and used the
incident as a
basis for discrediting the man. He thus used his own wrong- doing
as a means of
destroying the reputation of another. In fact, his rival was
ruined. (to TOP
of Page)
He felt that
he had done a wrong he could not possibly make right. If he
opened that old
affair, he was afraid it would destroy the reputation of his
partner, disgrace
his family and take away his means of livelihood. What right
had he to involve
those dependent upon him? How could he possibly make a public
statement
exonerating his rival?
After
consulting with his wife and partner he came to the conclusion that it
was better to
take those risks than to stand before his Creator guilty of such
ruinous slander.
He saw that he had to place the outcome in God's hands or he
would soon start
drinking again, and all would be lost anyhow. He attended
church for the
first time in many years. After the sermon, he quietly got up and
made an
explanation. His action met widespread approval, and today he is one of
the most trusted
citizens of his town. This all happened years ago.
The chances
are that we have domestic troubles. Perhaps we are mixed up with
women in a
fashion we wouldn't care to have advertised. We doubt if, in this
respect,
alcoholics are fundamentally much worse that other people. But drinking
does complicate
sex relations in the home. After a few years with an alcoholic,
a wife get worn
out, resentful and uncommunicative. How could she be anything
else? The husband
begins to feel lonely, sorry for himself. He commences to look
around in the
night clubs, or their equivalent, for something besides liquor.
Perhaps he is
having a secret and exciting affair with "the girl who
understands."
In fairness we must say that she may understand, but what are we
going to do about
a thing like that? A man so involved often feels very
remorseful at
times, especially if he is married to a loyal and courageous girl
who has literally
gone through hell for him.
Whatever the
situation, we usually have to do something about it. If we are
sure our wife
does not know, should we tell here? Not always, we think. If she
knows in a
general way that we have been wild, should we tell her it detail?
Undoubtedly we
should admit our fault. She may insist on knowing all the
particulars. She
will want to know who the woman is and where she is. We feel we
ought to say to
her that we have no right to involve another person. We are
sorry for what we
have done and, God willing, it shall not be repeated. More
than that we
cannot do; we have no right to go further. Though there may be
justifiable
exceptions, and though we wish to lay down no rule of any sort, we
have often found
this the best course to take.
Our design
for living is not a one-way street. It is as good for the wife as
for the husband.
If we can forget, so can she. It is better, however, that one
does not
needlessly name a person upon whom she can vent jealousy.
Perhaps there
are some cases where the utmost frankness is demanded. No
outsider can
appraise such an intimate situation. It may be that both will
decide that the
way of good sense and loving kindness is to let by-gones be
by-gones. Each
might pray about it, having the other one's happiness uppermost
in mind. Keep it
always in sight that we are dealing with that most terrible
human emotion,
jealousy. Good generalship may decide that the problem be
attacked on the
flank rather than risk a face-to- face combat.
If we have no
such complication, there is plenty we should do at home.
Sometimes we hear
an alcoholic say that the only thing he needs to do is to keep
sober. Certainly
he must keep sober, for there will be no home if he doesn't.
But he is yet a
long way from making good to the wife or parents whom for years
he has so
shockingly treated. Passing all understanding is the patience mothers
and wives have
had with alcoholics. Had this not been so, many of us would have
no homes today,
would perhaps be dead.
The alcoholic
is like a tornado roaring his way through the lives of others.
Hearts are
broken. Sweet relationships are dead. Affections have been uprooted.
Selfish and
inconsiderate habits have kept he home in turmoil. We feel a man is
unthinking when
he says that sobriety is enough. He is like the farmer who came
up out of his
cyclone cellar to find his home ruined. To his wife, he remarked,
"Don't see
anything the matter here, Ma. Ain't it grand the wind stopped
blowin'?"
Yes, there is a long period of reconstruction ahead. We must take the
lead. A remorseful
mumbling that we are sorry won't fill the bill at all. We
ought to sit down
with the family and frankly analyze the past as we now see it,
being very
careful not to criticize them. Their defects may be glaring, but the
chances are that
our own actions are partly responsible. So we clean house with
the family,
asking each morning in meditation that our Creator show us the way
of patience,
tolerance, kindliness and love.
The spiritual
life is not a theory. We have to live it. Unless one's family
expresses a
desire to live upon spiritual principles we think we ought not to
urge them. We
should not talk incessantly to them about spiritual matters. They
will change in
time. Our behavior will convince them more than our words. We
must remember
that ten or twenty years of drunkenness would make a skeptic out
of anyone.
There may be
some wrongs we can never fully right. We don't worry about them
if we can
honestly say to ourselves that we would right them if we could. Some
people cannot be
seen - we sent them an honest letter. And there may be a valid
reason for
postponement in some cases. But we don't delay if it can be avoided.
We should be
sensible, tactful, considerate and humble without being servile or
scraping. As
God's people we stand on our feet; we don't crawl before anyone.
If we are
painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed
before we are
half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new
happiness. We
will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will
comprehend the
word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the
scale we have
gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That
feeling of
uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in
selfish things
and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away.
Our whole
attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of
economic
insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle
situations which
used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing
for us what we
could not do for ourselves.
Are these
extravagant promises? We think not. They are being fulfilled among
us, sometimes
quickly, sometimes slowly. They will always materialize if we work
for them.
This thought
brings us to Step Ten, which suggests we continue to take
personal
inventory and continue to set right any new mistakes as we go along. We
vigorously
commenced this way of living as we cleaned up the past. We have
entered the world
of the Spirit. Our next function is to grow in understanding
and
effectiveness. This is not an overnight matter. It should continue for our
lifetime.
Continue to watch for selfishness, dishonesty, resentment, and fear.
When these crop
up, we ask God at once to remove them. We discuss them with
someone
immediately and make amends quickly if we have harmed anyone. Then we
resolutely turn
our thoughts to someone we can help. Love and tolerance of
others is our
code.
And we have
ceased fighting anything or anyone, even alcohol. For by this
time sanity will
have returned. We will seldom be interested in liquor. If
tempted, we
recoil from it as from a hot flame. We react sanely and normally,
and we will find
that this has happened automatically. We will see that our new
attitude toward
liquor has been given us without any thought or effort on our
part. It just
comes! That is the miracle of it. We are not fighting it, neither
are we avoiding
temptation. We feel as though we had been placed in a position
of neutrality
safe and protected. We have not even sworn off. Instead, the
problem has been
removed. It does not exist for us. We are neither cocky nor are
we afraid. That
is how we react so long as we keep in fit spiritual condition.
It is easy to
let up on the spiritual program of action and rest on our
laurels. We are
headed for trouble if we do, for alcohol is a subtle foe. We are
not cured of alcoholism.
What we really have is a daily reprieve contingent on
the maintenance
of our spiritual condition. Every day is a day when we must
carry the vision
of God's will into all of our activities. "How can I best serve
Thee, Thy will
(not mine) be done." These are thoughts which must go with us
constantly. We
can exercise our will power along this line all we wish. It is
the proper use of
the will.
Much has
already been said about receiving strength, inspiration, and
direction from
Him who has all knowledge and power. If we have carefully
followed
directions, we have begun to sense the flow of His Spirit into us. To
some extent we
have become God-conscious. We have begun to develop this vital
sixth sense. But
we must go further and that means more action.
Step Eleven
suggests prayer and meditation. We shouldn't be shy on this
matter of prayer.
Better men than we are using it constantly. It works, if we
have the proper
attitude and work at it. It would be easy to be vague about this
matter. Yet, we
believe we can make some definite and valuable suggestions.
When we
retire at night, we constructively review our day. Were we
resentful,
selfish, dishonest or afraid? Do we owe an apology? Have we kept
something to ourselves
which should be discussed with another person at once?
Were we kind and
loving toward all? What could we have done better? Were we
thinking of
ourselves most of the time? Or were we thinking of what we could do
for others, of
what we could pack into the stream of life? But we must be
careful not to
drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, for that would
diminish our
usefulness to others. After making our review we ask God's
forgiveness and
inquire what corrective measures should be taken.
On awakening
let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our
plans for the
day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking,
especially asking
that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking
motives. Under
these conditions we can employ our mental faculties with
assurance, for
after all God gave us brains to use. Our thought- life will be
placed on a much
higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives.
In thinking
about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to
determine which
course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive
thought or a
decision. We relax and take it easy. We don't struggle. We are
often surprised
how the right answers come after we have tried this for a while.
What used to be
the hunch or the occasional inspiration gradually becomes a
working part of
the mind. Being still inexperienced and having just made
conscious contact
with God, it is not probable that we are going to be inspired
at all times. We
might pay for this presumption in all sorts of absurd actions
and ideas.
Nevertheless, we find that our thinking will, as time passes, be more
and more on the
plane of inspiration. We come to rely upon it. to TOP of Page
We usually
conclude the period of meditation with a prayer that we be shown
all through the
day what our next step is to be, that we be given whatever we
need to take care
of such problems. We ask especially for freedom from
self-will, and are
careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for
ourselves,
however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for
our own selfish
ends. Many of us have wasted a lot of time doing that and it
doesn't work. You
can easily see why.
If
circumstances warrant, we ask our wives or friends to join us in morning
meditation. If we
belong to a religious denomination which requires a definite
morning devotion,
we attend to that also. If not members of religious bodies, we
sometimes select
and memorize a few set prayers which emphasize the principles
we have been
discussing. There are many helpful books also. Suggestions about
these may be
obtained from one's priest, minister, or rabbi. Be quick to see
where religious
people are right. Make use of what they offer.
As we go
through the day we pause, when agitated or doubtful, and ask for
the right thought
or action. We constantly remind ourselves we are no longer
running the show,
humbly saying to ourselves many times each day "Thy will be
done." We
are then in much less danger of excitement, fear, anger, worry,
self-pity, or
foolish decisions. We become much more efficient. We do not tire
so easily, for we
are not burning up energy foolishly as we did when we were
trying to arrange
life to suit ourselves.
It works - it
really does.
We alcoholics
are undisciplined. So we let God discipline us in the simple
way we have just
outlined. But this is not all. There is action and more action.
"Faith
without works is dead." The next chapter is entirely devoted to
Step Twelve.
Chapter 7
to TOP
Working With
Others
Practical
experience shows that nothing will so much insure immunity from
drinking as
intensive work with other alcoholics. It works when other activities
fail. This is our
twelfth suggestion: Carry this message to other alcoholics!
You can help
when no one else can. You can secure their confidence when other
fail. Remember
they are very ill.
Life will
take on new meaning. To watch people recover, to see them help
others, to watch
loneliness vanish, to see a fellowship grow up about you, to
have a host of
friends - this is an experience you must not miss. We know you
will not want to
miss it. Frequent contact with newcomers and with each other is
the bright spot
of our lives.
Perhaps you
are not acquainted with any drinkers who want to recover. You
can easily find
some by asking a few doctors, ministers, priests or hospitals.
They will be only
too glad to assist you. Don't start out as an evangelist or
reformer.
Unfortunately a lot of prejudice exists. You will be handicapped if
you arouse it.
Ministers and doctors are competent and you can learn much from
them if you wish,
but it happens that because of your own drinking experience
you can be
uniquely useful to other alcoholics. So cooperate; never criticize.
To be helpful is
our only aim.
When you
discover a prospect for Alcoholics Anonymous, find out all you can
about him. If he
does not want to stop drinking, don't waste time trying to
persuade him. You
may spoil a later opportunity. This advice is given for his
family also. They
should be patient, realizing they are dealing with a sick
person.
If there is
any indication that he wants to stop, have a good talk with the
person most
interested in him--usually his wife. Get an idea of his behavior,
his problems, his
background, the seriousness of his condition, and his
religious
leanings. You need this information to put yourself in his place, to
see how you would
like him to approach you if the tables were turned.
Sometimes it
is wise to wait till he goes on a binge. The family may object
to this, but
unless he is in a dangerous physical condition, it is better to
risk it. Don't
deal with him when he is very drunk, unless he is ugly and the
family needs your
help. Wait for the end of the spree, or at least for a lucid
interval. Then
let his family or a friend ask him if he wants to quit for good
and if he would
go to any extreme to do so. If he says yes, then his attention
should be drawn
to you as a person who has recovered. You should be described to
him as one of a
fellowship who, as part of their own recovery, try to help
others and who
will be glad to talk to him if he cares to see you.
If he does
not want to see you, never force yourself upon him. Neither
should the family
hysterically plead with him to do anything, nor should they
tell him much about
you. They should wait for the end of his next drinking bout.
You might place
this book where he can see it in the interval. Here no specific
rule can be
given. The family must decide these things. But urge them not to be
over-anxious, for
that might spoil matters.
Usually the
family should not try to tell your story. When possible, avoid
meeting a man
through his family. Approach through a doctor or an institution is
a better bet. If
your man needs hospitalization, he should have it, but not
forcibly unless
he is violent. Let the doctor, if he will, tell him he has
something in the
way of a solution.
When your man
is better, the doctor might suggest a visit from you. Though
you have talked
with the family, leave them out of the first discussion. Under
these conditions
your prospect will see he is under not pressure. He will feel
he can deal with
you without being nagged by his family. Call on him while he
is still jittery.
He may be more receptive when depressed.
See your man
alone, if possible. At first engage in general conversation.
After a while,
turn the talk to some phase of drinking. Tell him enough about
your drinking
habits, symptoms, and experiences to encourage him to speak of
himself. If he
wishes to talk, let him do so. You will thus get a better idea
of how you ought
to proceed. If he is not communicative, give him a sketch or
your drinking
career up to the time you quit. But say nothing, for the moment,
of how that was
accomplished. If he is in a serious mood dwell on the troubles
liquor has caused
you, being careful not to moralize or lecture. If his mood is
light, tell him
humorous stories of your escapades. Get him to tell some of
his.
When he sees
you know all about the drinking game, commence to describe
yourself as an
alcoholic. Tell him how baffled you were, how you finally learned
that you were
sick. Give him an account of the struggles you made to stop. Show
him the mental
twist which leads to the first drink of a spree. We suggest you
do this as we
have done it in the chapter on alcoholism. If he is alcoholic, he
will understand
you at once. He will match you mental inconsistencies with some
of his own.
If you are
satisfied that he is a real alcoholic, begin to dwell on the
hopeless feature
of the malady. Show him, from your own experience, how the
queer mental
condition surrounding that first drink prevents normal functioning
of the will
power. Don't, at this stage, refer to this book, unless he has seen
it and wishes to
discuss it. And be careful not to brand him as an alcoholic.
Let him draw his
own conclusion. If he sticks to the idea that he can still
control his
drinking, tell him that possibly he can - if he is not too
alcoholic. But
insist that if he is severely afflicted, there may be little
chance he can
recover by himself.
Continue to
speak of alcoholism as an illness, a fatal malady. Talk about
the conditions of
body and mind which accompany it. Keep his attention focussed
mainly on your
personal experience. Explain that many are doomed who never
realize their
predicament. Doctors are rightly loath to tell alcoholic patients
the whole story
unless it will serve some good purpose. But you may talk to him
about the
hopelessness of alcoholism because you offer a solution. You will soon
have you friend
admitting he has many, if not all, of the traits of the
alcoholic. If
his own doctor is willing to tell him that he is alcoholic, so
much the better.
Even though your protege may not have entirely admitted his
condition, he has
become very curious to know how you got well. Let him ask you
that question, if
he will. Tell him exactly what happened to you. Stress the
spiritual
feature freely. If the man be agnostic or atheist, make it emphatic
that he does not
have to agree with your conception of God. He can choose any
conception he
likes, provided it makes sense to him. The main thing is that he
be willing to
believe in a Power greater than himself and that he live by
spiritual
principles.
When dealing
with such a person, you had better use everyday language to
describe
spiritual principles. There is no use arousing any prejudice he may
have against
certain theological terms and conceptions about which he may
already be
confused. Don't raise such issues, no matter what your own
convictions are.
Your prospect
may belong to a religious denomination. His religious
education and
training may be far superior to yours. In that case he is going to
wonder how you
can add anything to what he already knows. But he well be curious
to learn why his
own convictions have not worked and why yours seem to work so
well. He may be
an example of the truth that faith alone is insufficient. To be
vital, faith must
be accompanied by self sacrifice and unselfish, constructive
action. Let him
see that you are not there to instruct him in religion. Admit
that he probably
knows more about it than you do, but call to his attention the
fact that however
deep his faith and knowledge, he could not have applied it or
he would not
drink, Perhaps your story will help him see where he has failed to
practice the very
precepts he knows so well. We represent no particular faith or
denomination. We
are dealing only with general principles common to most
denominations.
Outline the
program of action, explaining how you made a self-appraisal, how
you straightened
out your past and why you are now endeavoring to be helpful to
him. It is important
for him to realize that your attempt to pass this on to him
plays a vital
part in your recovery. Actually, he may be helping you more than
you are helping
him. Make it plain he is under no obligation to you, that you
hope only that he
will try to help other alcoholics when he escapes his own
difficulties.
Suggest how important it is that he place the welfare of other
people ahead of
his own. Make it clear that he is not under pressure, that he
needn't see you
again if he doesn't want to. You should not be offended if he
wants to call it
off, for he has helped you more than you have helped him. If
your talk has
been sane, quiet and full of human understanding, you have perhaps
made a friend.
Maybe you have disturbed him about the question of alcoholism.
This is all to
the good. The more hopeless he feels, the better. He will be more
likely to follow
your suggestions.
Your
candidate may give reasons why he need not follow all of the program.
He may rebel at
the thought of a drastic housecleaning which requires discussion
with other
people. Do not contradict such views. Tell him you once felt as he
does, but you
doubt whether you would have made much progress had you not taken
action. On your
first visit tell him about the Fellowship of Alcoholics
Anonymous. If he
shows interest, lend him your copy of this book.
Unless your
friend wants to talk further about himself, do not wear out your
welcome. Give him
a chance to think it over. If you do stay , let him steer the
conversation in
any direction he like. Sometimes a new man is anxious to proceed
at once, and you
may be tempted to let him do so. This is sometimes a mistake.
If he has trouble
later, he is likely to say you rushed him. You will be most
successful with
alcoholics if you do not exhibit any passion for crusade or
reform. Never
talk down to an alcoholic from any moral or spiritual hilltop;
simply lay out
the kit of spiritual tools for his inspection. Show him how they
worked with you.
Offer him friendship and fellowship. Tell him that if he wants
to get well you
will do anything to help.
If he is not
interested in your solution, if he expects you to act only as a
banker for his
financial difficulties or a nurse for his sprees, you may have to
drop him until he
changes his mind. This he may do after he gets hurts some
more.
If he is
sincerely interested and wants to see you again, ask him to read
this book in the
interval. After doing that, he must decide for himself whether
he wants to go
on. He should not be pushed or prodded by you, his wife, or his
friends. If he
is to find God, the desire must come from within.
If he thinks
he can do the job in some other way, or prefers some other
spiritual
approach, encourage him to follow his own conscience. We have no
monopoly on God;
we merely have an approach that worked with us. But point out
that we
alcoholics have much in common and that you would like, in any case, to
be friendly. Let
it go at that. Do not be discouraged if your prospect does not
respond at once.
Search out another alcoholic and try again. You are sure to
find someone
desperate enough to accept with eagerness what you offer. We find
it a waste of
time to keep chasing a man who cannot or will not work with you.
If you leave such
a person alone, he may soon become convinced that he cannot
recover by
himself. To spend too much time on any one situation is to deny some
other alcoholic
an opportunity to live and be happy. One of our Fellowship
failed entirely
with his first half dozen prospects. He often says that if he
had continued to
work on them, he might have deprived many others, who have
since recovered,
of their chance.
Suppose now
you are making your second visit to a man. He has read this
volume and says
he is prepared to go through with the Twelve Steps of the
program of
recovery. Having had the experience yourself, you can give him much
practical advice.
Let him know you are available if he wishes to make a decision
and tell his
story, but do not insist upon it if he prefers to consult someone
else.
He may be
broke and homeless. If he is, you might try to help him about
getting a job, or
give him a little financial assistance. But you should not
deprive your
family or creditors of money they should have. Perhaps you will
want to take the
man into your home for a few days. But be sure you use
discretion. Be
certain he will be welcomed by your family, and that he is not
trying to impose
upon you for money, connections, or shelter. Permit that and
you only harm
him. You will be making it possible for him to be insincere. You
may be aiding in
his destruction rather than his recovery.
Never avoid
these responsibilities, but be sure you are doing the right
thing if you
assume them. Helping others is the foundation stone of your
recovery. A
kindly act once in a while isn't enough. You have to act the Good
Samaritan every
day, if need be. It may mean the loss of many nights' sleep,
great
interference with your pleasures, interruptions to your business. It may
mean sharing your
money and your home, counseling frantic wives and relatives,
innumerable trips
to police courts, sanitariums, hospitals, jails and asylums.
Your telephone
may jangle at any time of the day or night. Your wife may
sometimes say she
is neglected. A drunk may smash the furniture in your home, or
burn a mattress.
You may have to fight with him if he is violent. Sometimes you
will have to call
a doctor and administer sedatives under his direction. Another
time you may have
to send for the police or an ambulance. Occasionally you will
have to meet such
conditions.
We seldom
allow an alcoholic to live in our homes for long at a time. It is
not good for him,
and it sometimes creates serious complications in a family.
Though an
alcoholic does not respond, there is no reason why you should
neglect his
family. You should continue to be friendly to them. The family
should be offered
your way of life. Should they accept and practice spiritual
principles, there
is a much better change that the head of the family will
recover. And
even though he continues to drink, the family will find life more
bearable.
For the type
of alcoholic who is able and willing to get well, little
charity, in the
ordinary sense of the word, is need or wanted. The men who cry
for money and
shelter before conquering alcohol, are on the wrong track. Yet we
do go to great
extremes to provide each other with these very things, when such
action is
warranted. This may seem inconsistent, but we think it is not.
It is not the
matter of giving that is in question, but when and how to
give. That often
makes the difference between failure and success. The minute we
put our work on a
service plane, the alcoholic commences to rely upon our
assistance rather
than upon God. He clamors for this or that, claiming he cannot
master alcohol
until his material needs are cared for. Nonsense. Some of us have
taken very hard
knocks to learn this truth: Job or no job - wife or no wife - we
simply do not
stop drinking so long as we place dependence upon other people
ahead of
dependence on God.
Burn the idea
into the consciousness of every man that he can get well
regardless of
anyone. The only condition is that he trust in God and clean
house.
Now, the
domestic problem: There may be divorce, separation, or just
strained
relations. When your prospect has made such reparation as he can to his
family, and has
thoroughly explained to them the new principles by which he is
living, he should
proceed to put those principles into action at home. That is,
if he is lucky
enough to have a home. Though his family be at fault in many
respects, he
should not be concerned about that. He should concentrate on his
own spiritual
demonstration. Argument and fault-finding are to be avoided like
the plague. In
many homes this is a difficult thing to do, but it must be done
if any results
are to be expected. If persisted in for a few months, the effect
on a man's family
is sure to be great. The most incompatible people discover
they have a basis
upon which they can meet. Little by little the family may see
their own defects
and admit them. These can then be discussed in an atmosphere
of helpfulness
and friendliness.
After they
have seen tangible results, the family will perhaps want to go
along. These
things will come to pass naturally and in good time provided,
however, the alcoholic
continues to demonstrate that he can be sober,
considerate, and
helpful, regardless of what anyone says or does. Of course, we
all fall much
below this standard many times. But we must try to repair the
damage
immediately lest we pay the penalty by a spree.
If there be
divorce or separation, there should be no undue haste for the
couple to get
together. The man should be sure of his recovery. The wife should
fully understand
his new way of life. If their old relationship is to be resumed
it must be on a
better basis, since the former did not work. This means a new
attitude and
spirit all around. Sometimes it is to the best interests of all
concerned that a
couple remain apart. Obviously, no rule can be laid down. Let
the alcoholic
continue his program day by day. When the time for living together
has come, it
will be apparent to both parties.
Let no
alcoholic say he cannot recover unless he has his family back. This
just isn't so. In
some cases the wife will never come back for one reason or
another. Remind
the prospect that his recovery is not dependent upon people. It
is dependent
upon his relationship with God. We have seen men get well whose
families have not
returned at all. We have seen others slip when the family came
back too soon.
Both you and
the new man must walk day by day in the path of spiritual
progress. If you
persist, remarkable things will happen. When we look back, we
realize that the
things which came to us when we put ourselves in God's hands
were better than
anything we could have planned. Follow the dictates of a
Higher Power and
you will presently live in a new and wonderful world, no matter
what your present
circumstances!
When working
with a man and his family, you should take care not to
participate in
their quarrels. You may spoil your chance of being helpful if you
do. But urge upon
a man's family that he has been a very sick person and should
be treated
accordingly. You should warn against arousing resentment or
jealousy. You
should point out that his defects of character are not going to
disappear over
night. Show them that he has entered upon a period of growth. Ask
them to remember,
when they are impatient, the blessed fact of his sobriety.
If you have
been successful in solving your own domestic problems, tell the
newcomer's family
how that was accomplished. In this way you can set them on the
right track
without becoming critical of them. The story of how you and your
wife settled
your difficulties is worth any amount of criticism.
Assuming we
are spiritually fit, we can do all sorts of things alcoholics
are not supposed
to do. People have said we must not go where liquor is served;
we must not have
it in our homes; we must shun friends who drink; we must avoid
moving pictures
which show drinking scenes; we must not go into bars; our
friends must hide
their bottles if we go to their houses; we mustn't think or be
reminded about
alcohol at all.
We meet these
conditions every day. An alcoholic who cannot meet them, still
has an alcoholic
mind; there is something the matter with his spiritual status.
His only chance
for sobriety would be some place like the Greenland Ice Cap, and
even there an
Eskimo might turn up with a bottle of scotch and ruin everything!
Ask any woman who
has sent her husband to distant places on the theory he would
escape the
alcohol problem.
In our belief
any scheme of combating alcoholism which proposes to shield
the sick man from
temptation is doomed to failure. If the alcoholic tries to
shield himself he
may succeed for a time, but usually winds up with a bigger
explosion than
ever. We have tried these methods. These attempts to do the
impossible have
always failed.
So our rule
is not to avoid a place where there is drinking, if we have a
legitimate reason
for being there. That includes bars, nightclubs, dances,
receptions,
weddings, even plain ordinary whoopee parties. To a person who has
had experience
with an alcoholic, this may seem like tempting Providence, but it
isn't.
You will note
that we made and important qualification. Therefore, ask
yourself on each
occasion, "Have I any good social, business, or personal reason
for going to this
place? Or am I expecting to steal a little vicarious pleasure
from the
atmosphere of such places?" If you answer these questions
satisfactorily,
you need have no apprehension. Go or stay away, whichever seems
best. But be sure
you are on solid spiritual ground before you start and that
your motive in
going is thoroughly good. Do not think of what you will get out
of the occasion.
Think of what you can bring to it. But if you are shaky, you
had better work
with another alcoholic instead!
Why sit with
a long face in places where there is drinking, sighing about
the good old
days. If it is a happy occasion, try to increase the pleasure of
those there; if a
business occasion, go and attend to your business
enthusiastically.
If you are with a person who wants to eat in a bar, by all
means go along.
Let your friends know they are not to change their habits on
your account. At
a proper time and place explain to all your friends why alcohol
disagrees with
you. If you do this thoroughly, few people will ask you to drink.
While you were
drinking, you were withdrawing from life little by little. Now
you are getting
back into the social life of this world. Don't start to withdraw
again just
because your friends drink liquor.
Your job now
is to be at the place where you may be of maximum helpfulness
to others, so
never hesitate to go anywhere if you can be helpful. You should
not hesitate to
visit the most sordid spot on earth on such an errand. Keep on
the firing line
of life with these motives and God will keep you unharmed.
Many of us
keep liquor in our homes. We often need it to carry green
recruits through
a severe hangover. Some of us still serve it to our friends
provided they are
not alcoholic. But some of us think we should not serve liquor
to anyone. We
never argue this question. We feel that each family, in the light
of their own
circumstances, ought to decide for themselves.
We are
careful never to show intolerance or hatred of drinking as an
institution.
Experience shows that such an attitude is not helpful to anyone.
Every new
alcoholic looks for this spirit among us and is immensely relieved
when he finds we
are not witchburners. A spirit of intolerance might repel
alcoholics whose
lives could have been saved, had it not been for such
stupidity. We
would not even do the cause of temperate drinking any good, for
not one drinker
in a thousand likes to be told anything about alcohol by one who
hates it.
Some day we
hope that Alcoholics Anonymous will help the public to a better
realization of
the gravity of the alcoholic problem, but we shall be of little
use if our
attitude is one of bitterness or hostility. Drinkers will not stand
for it.
After all,
our problems were of our own making. Bottles were only a symbol.
Besides, we have
stopped fighting anybody or anything. We have to!
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