Latest / Sober Readings / Didn't We Hurt Anybody?
Transcript
- Scott Hayes: Good morning and welcome to Sober Readings for Saturday, the fifteenth of August. Let's begin today's episode with the Serenity Prayer. God, grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Today's reading from Daily Reflections. Didn't we hurt anybody? Some of us, though, tripped over a very different snag. We clung to the claim that when drinking, we never hurt anybody but ourselves. That's a line from Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, page 79. This step seemed so simple. I identified several people whom I had harmed, but they were no longer available. Still, I was uneasy about the step and avoided conversations dealing with it. In time I learned to investigate those steps and areas of my life which made me uncomfortable. My search revealed my parents, who had been deeply hurt by my isolation from them, my employer, who worried about my absences, my memory lapses, my temper. And the friends I had shunned without explanation. As I faced the reality of the harm I had done, step eight took on new meaning. I am no longer uncomfortable and I feel clean and light. Today's reading from twenty four hours a day, august fifteenth, AA Thought for the Day. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. Commencing to drink after a period of sobriety, we are in short time as bad as ever. If we have admitted we are alcoholics, we must have no reservations of any kind, nor any lurking notion that someday we will be immune to alcohol. What sort of thinking dominates an alcoholic who repeats time after time the desperate experiment of the first drink? Parallel with sound reasoning, There inevitably runs some insanely trivial excuse for taking the first drink. There is little thought of what the terrible consequences may be. And today's question is have I given up all excuses for taking a drink? The meditation for the day When two or three are banded together, I will be there in the midst of them. When God finds two or three people in union, who only wants his will to be done, who want only to serve him, he has a plan that can be revealed to them. The grace of God can come to people who are together in one place with one accord. A union like this is miracle working. God is able to use such people. Only good can come through such consecrated people brought together in unified groups for a single purpose and of a single mind. And today's prayer for the day. I pray that I may be part of a unified group. I pray that I may contribute my share to its consecrated purpose. And for today's final reading, I'm gonna read an article out of the Grapevine from January of 2012. And this one is titled Sublime Freedom. At 13, AA saved her from a tough childhood of drinking, fighting, and dodging the law. As I walked into the room, my heart was in a frenzy, as if a ferret had been let loose in my chest. This wasn't where I was supposed to end up. These people were wrong and probably insane. This AA group had no idea who I was. Although I felt a black, gaping maw in the pit of my stomach, I knew this was not going to fix it. I could handle this alcoholism on my own. I didn't need these people. And I had no intentions of letting them even know my name. I just needed some rest to get the fog in my mind to clear. Then maybe I would quit getting into fights and going to jail. Then maybe I would quit waking up not knowing where I was or what vexatious things I had done the night before. Rest, that's all I needed. Maybe a vacation. But I sure didn't need these people. I knew this. My parents had told me all 12 step programs were a joke anyway. When I was growing up, my parents sold and used cocaine. Home was a constant torrent of the unexpected. From one minute to the next, you couldn't be sure who was coming through the front door, or the windows for that matter. It could be the cops coming to take one of my parents away for the constant and brutal beatings they dealt one another. It could also be the dope man coming to take away everything worth anything in the house. Once a month he would come and And when he left, so did the TV, the radio, the video games, the wall clocks, and anything else he thought he could hawk for a buck or two to repay the debt that had come due. He would bring men the size of towering Redwoods who carried guns the size of small dogs. This lifestyle made me age quickly, with a hard edge to survive. I was drinking by the time I was five. I was tough as nails and quick to fight. Needless to say, The law was on my case like a rat on sticky paper. I was fortunate enough to slither by without jail the first few times, and I was just put on probation. I was eleven at my first encounter with my court appointed watchdog. This woman had hair that looked like a squirrel had burrowed in for a long winter, eyes as fierce as a rabid pit bull, and an ego the size of a deringible. Given these qualities, I was surprised that she fell so easily into my web of lies. I had her gulping kibble from the palm of my hand. I never intended to do what she asked, just lead her on long enough until she finally cut me loose. After that, the game was on. The running, drinking, and brawling were all back on schedule. I did this for quite some time. Then the fun started to evaporate. I thought maybe it was just a dry spell. The brief periods of jubilation came in shorter and fewer intervals, then eventually dried up altogether. That brings me to the meeting I was about to enter. I figured if the excitement and thrill of the party were gone, yet here I was still loaded to the gills, maybe I might possibly have a problem. I had been to AA meetings before with my folks, but that was their way of getting around the restraining orders. So I never thought AA would have anything to offer me. I sat in the back of the hall-like room, close to the door. The walls were stark white, just as the linoleum underfoot. The aroma of coffee and cigarettes wafted in my direction, making my stomach dance like a Mexican jumping bean. Fists clenched and drawn at my sides, I sat and listened. Then, out of nowhere, I heard someone say what I needed to hear. I had never understood when people said stuff like, I felt like I was at home at last. Or I finally felt like I belonged. I had never felt like I belonged, and I sure as hell never had a home I wanted to go to. Yet somehow in that instance, I did feel at home, just as they said I would. I stayed through the whole meeting and listened to others tell their accounts of life. And I heard, I actually focused and heard. They spoke of a better way of life. There wasn't anything beyond the soot covered windows of my dismal world, and with just the thought of living in the light I was hooked. I wanted this way of life more than a junkie could possibly want his next fix. This is a program of action, they said, and the steps are in order for a reason. At the time I had no concept of what this meant, only that it must be important. Just do the footwork and keep going, I told myself over and over. The first few months were rough and tumble, but I stuck it out. I worked the steps, but sometimes the steps worked me. Nevertheless, my life slowly began to mend. Over these trying years I have come a long way, from the little brawler down the street to a somewhat respectable member of society. It has been years since I've had a drink. I was thirteen the first time I came to AA, and that set the pace for the rest of my life. I am now twenty two and have quite a few years under my belt, and yet somehow I still know nothing, and isn't it wonderful? It is a great feeling to not be bogged down with thoughts of the next bottle. Surprising as it is, my parents have even began to see that there is something sublime in this freedom. They have not had much success, but only time can tell. God's will, not mine, be done. And that was written by April H. in Medford, Oregon. And that's gonna do it for today's episode of Sober Readings. Thank you so much for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please do me a huge favor and hit the like button, the share button, and subscribe so you don't miss the next episode. And if you're someone who loves sober literature and you'd like to be a guest reader on my show, send me an email at sober readings with Scott at gmail dot com and we can make that happen. And if you'd like to drop a dollar in the virtual donation basket for today's readings, just go to my website, sobereadings.com, and you can click the donate button. So again, thank you so much for listening today. Stay sober, keep reading, and I'll see you in the next episode. Until then, take care of yourselves and each other. And remember, just for today, don't drink, go to a meeting, and keep coming back. Have a great day, everyone, and as my friend Larry says, best day ever.