Bill Wilson did LSD!

Did he? I don't know... I wasn't there. Who can say for sure? For the sake of argument, let's say he did... To quote my mother, "If Bill Wilson jumped off a cliff, would you?"

Hold onto your hats, I'm about to offer a controversial viewpoint -- people are bound to freakout, rip their clothing, and throw things -- but please, try to refrain from total anarchy. 

Are you ready? Here goes...  BILL. WILSON. WAS. NOT. GOD. 

There. I said it.

Maybe he did take LSD. So what? 

He was human, fallible, prone to mistakes. Just because Bill Wilson did something, doesn't mean it was the right thing to do. 

Human nature bends toward idol worship. We LOVE to create heroes out of mere mortals and place them on pedestals in order to deify their every thought, word, and deed. Such has become the fate of old Mr. Wilson! 

Make no mistake, Bill did NOT develop the concepts of AA so that YOU could stay sober... he developed them so HE could stay sober. He was a visionary and an early pioneer of sobriety -- he was not a prophet or cherubim sent from the Almighty to serve as a holy source of omniscient recovery. 

Bill would be the first to confess that he didn't have all the answers and that his journey down the path of sobriety was as flawed and bumbling as the drunk next to him! He never held himself up as an example of perfection, so why do we?

Yes, perhaps Bill did take LSD. Let's say (for fun) that he also tried heroin... or meth... or PCP... (who knows, he may have) is it then permissible to partake in those drugs and maintain that we are still sober?

I think we can all answer this question with a resounding "NO!"

If Bill Wilson did do these things, it doesn't mean he was sober... it means he was human. And that's okay. 

To rephrase my mother's query, "If Bill Wilson jumped off the wagon, into relapse, would you?"

Permission to Relapse

I once had a sponsee who constantly asked me for permission to relapse. 

Of course, he never came right out and asked, he just kept trying to find "loop holes" that I'd agree to. 

His first ploy, in his first month, was to get me to approve of him drinking non-alcoholic beer. Now, to be clear, I usually don't have a problem with a sober member drinking NA beer - You can't get drunk off it and it's your program, so do what you want. But with this particular sponsee, I knew it was deeper than that -- he was looking for an easier, softer way.

"Why bother with NA beer?" I asked. "Just pull the trigger and drink the real stuff. That's what you want."

He stepped back, aghast. "You WANT me to relapse?"

"No," I responded. "But clearly that's what you want. You're trigger-hunting." I told him the choice was his, but if he decided to drink NA beer, he'd have to find a new sponsor. 

About a month later, someone in the program planted the idea of "marijuana maintenance" into his head. Once again, he came looking for permission to relapse. This time, he used a different tactic... he opted for taking my inventory as it pertained to cigarette smoking, reasoning that "nicotine is a mind-altering drug," so if I can smoke cigarettes, he should be permitted to smoke weed.

Once again, I encouraged him to go back out. He'd know where to find me when he was ready to work an honest program.

Of course, the ONLY time he worked as directed was when I told him to "go back out." Off he'd go to seek out an easier, softer way. Then, a few months later, he'd come sulking back into the rooms, asking me to sponsor him again. I'd take him on, he'd look for excuses to relapse, I'd send him back out, he'd wrap his car around a phone pole (or something equally brilliant), then show up back in the rooms with his head hung. Around and around and around we went like this... for years.

Eventually, I lost contact with him. I'm fairly certain he's still out there, somewhere, riding the "retread spin cycle" to this day.

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In my drinking days, my favorite "treat" was a high-end bottle of sake. LOVED IT. Coincidentally, I happened to have a Japanese roommate who was visiting his family in Osaka the week I decided to quit drinking. Oblivious to my newfound sobriety, he returned home bearing the gift of an ornate bottle of authentic, Japanese sake. 

Not gonna lie... I entertained the idea of popping that cork and picking a new date. 

I didn't. 

Instead, I took that bottle and put it up in a cupboard, over my sink. I said to myself, "If I ever decide to relapse, that's gonna be the bottle I do it with" and promptly forgot about it.

Over the years, I would occasionally share in meetings about that bottle over my sink and what it represented to my sobriety. Without fail, while exiting the hall, someone would approach and declare, "You have to throw that bottle out! It'll cause you to relapse if you don't!"

A bottle of booze will cause me to relapse? Nothing could be further from the truth. The ONLY thing that will cause me to relapse is MY BRAIN. In fact, there's a liquor store on the corner, half-a-block from my house, that's FULL of booze. Whether I reach into the cupboard over my sink or walk down to the corner store, relapse is there for the taking if I want it.

I was in no danger of "accidental relapse." It has never happened. Not once, in the history of Recovery, has anyone ever accidentally tripped over a bottle and had its contents emptied into their mouth.

Every relapse is planned. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. 

You don't need permission... if you're not done, you're not done. Go ahead and tip the bottle one more time. If you're looking for a reason to relapse, you WILL relapse. It's just a matter of time. Stop torturing yourself and just do it.

So go ahead... pick up that bottle, light that joint, drop that hit, snort that line, fire up that pipe, and get it out of your system.

When you're done fighting, the rooms will be here waiting for you.

Unconditional Love

I have come to realize that "unconditional love" is a far rarer concept than most believe it to be. The majority of love/friendships we currently hold in our lives are, in fact, "conditional."

But what does that mean?

We have all experienced a break-up with a boyfriend, girlfriend, spouse, significant other, etc., in which our "shared friends" were halved after the dissolution of the relationship. Suddenly, people whom we loved, respected (and believed respected us), with whom we laughed and cried are suddenly gone, out of our lives. They have chosen to retain their friendship with our former partner and, in turn, ended all contact with us.

Those so-called friends only loved us under the condition that we remained in a relationship with our partner. It was "conditional love."

We have many of these conditional relationships in our lives: Work friends who (seem to) care about us so long as we're employed under the same roof as them, social climbing friends who flit through our lives on their way up the social ladder, current and former schoolmates, those who orbit in the same hobby/church/social groups as us, and so on. 

Personally, I have found the most intriguing group of conditional friends to be my "old party friends." Early on, I was faced with the quandary of whether to continue relations with my drinking buddies, once sober. Should I remain friends with them or exercise self-preservation and walk away?

A particularly difficult relationship to justify was my mentor - a dear friend who was a hope-to-die alcoholic. Early in my sobriety, he invited me out to dinner, which was (of course) at a local bar. 

That night, he ordered a particularly "colorful" cocktail that I had not seen before. "What's that?" I asked.

"This is a (insert exotic cocktail name here)" he said, as he slid the drink in my direction.

Out of reflex, I snatched the drink and lifted it to my mouth. The cocktail was inches from my lips when my brain screamed, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING???" I set the drink down and slid it back - close call.

He knew I was sober, yet he put me in a tenuous situation.  But it wasn't his fault... I put MYSELF in that situation. This was the type of place where we had established our friendship, it was a common stomping ground. If I was to continue our friendship, it would be mired in this sort of temptation. As much as I adored my friend, I had to step back and put distance between us. 

Another one of my drinking buddies, a guy who was like a brother to me, actively despised the idea of losing me to sobriety. He regularly and blatantly tempted me into relapse. Likewise, I was forced to make a choice between our friendship and my sobriety. I chose the latter.

In these situations, with these friends, I was absolutely guilty of withholding "unconditional love" for my brothers. It was a quandary... if I offered my love to them, I wouldn't be able to give it to myself.

Eventually, I grew strong enough in my recovery to return to those friendships and once again offer that love. I don't regret my decision to step away... I had to do what was right for me and my sobriety.

In our first year of recovery, unconditional love is not an option -- whether it be old drinking buddies, romantic relationships, or toxic family members -- WE HAVE TO BE SELFISH.  

Nobody in this world will look out for your wellbeing better than you. Setting boundaries with others does not make us bad people, it makes us survivors.