Rick Rolled

I got rolled by a business owner who lived 3000 miles away.

Short version: I had lost my SCUBA certification card sometime back. This guy's website promised he could locate any certification for $50. It seemed like a legit business... so I bit. Turns out, my "particular certification" was beyond his purview, but instead of refunding my money, he claimed he had a right to keep it because he "had to spend time looking for it." 

You should know, I have a somewhat overdeveloped sense of justice. I cannot abide bullies, thieves, or liars. Wrong is wrong.

As you can imagine, I was consumed with anger... this guy did me dirty. It wasn't the $50, I didn't care about that. It was the principle. He was WRONG and I was RIGHT.

I went about making his life miserable. I wrote the BBB, Florida Chamber of Commerce, Florida Attorney General's Office, Federal Commerce Commission... I wrote bad reviews on Yelp, Google, FB and anywhere else I could think of. I dragged his business's name through every mud puddle I could find.

My every waking moment was focussed on finding justice. I was consumed with this resentment.

Consumed.

It finally dawned on me that this guy was renting some MAJOR space in my head. The poison of my resentment was eating me up from the inside. At the end of the day, this was not his problem, it was mine.

I knew what I had to do - I had to make amends. 

Trust me when I say, I hated the idea... I was absolutely 100% in the right. I had been wronged. 

For my own peace of mind I had to do it.

Not for him, for me.

I sent him a note and apologized, without condition, for my vitriol. I took responsibility for my part. All of it. 

A funny thing happened... the hatred was gone. Instantly. 

Shortly thereafter, I received notification from my bank that they were reversing the charge and giving me my money back. 

The old me would have shot a note off to the offender to rub his nose in my victory. 

I didn't do that. 

My amends had brought me peace...

and I wanted to keep it.

Why Don't You Drink?

"You don't drink? Why not?"

How many times have we heard this question?

I've always worn my alcoholism on my sleeve, never ashamed to proclaim, "Because I'm an alcoholic!" 

99.9% of the time, the response is something along the lines of, "Really? Wow... good for you. Keep it up!" But .1% of the time I'll run into that idiot with .1% of a brain. I call them the ".1%ers"

Years ago, I was applying for a position as a reserve officer with Burbank PD. As such, I was required to interview with a department detective. One of the (many) questions was, "How much do you drink? 

Sadly, this detective was a .1%er, so the conversation went something like this...

Me: I don't drink.

Him: At all?

Me: No. Never.

Him: Why not?

Me: I'm an alcoholic. 4 years sober.

Him: I see... in that case, I think we should wrap up this interview. We can't hire you.

Me: (confused) May I ask why?

Him: You just admitted you're an alcoholic.

Me: Correct, 4 years sober.

Him: But you could relapse.

Me: And a meteor could hit LA tomorrow and vaporize us all... what does that have to do with it?

Him: We can't take a chance.

Me: What about the officers in your department who are alcoholics?

Him: We don't have any alcoholics in our department.

Me: (LAUGHED OUT LOUD)

It was at this moment I learned there are people in this world who simply do not have the intellect to grasp a concept as simple as sobriety. 

Moving forward, I continued to proudly expound on my sobriety to those who inquired after my temperance. Occasionally I would come across a .1%er and would simply answer, "I don't drink because I don't like the way it makes me feel."

It's an honest answer: I don't like the hangovers, I don't like the loss of friendships or the physical breakdown of my body, mind, and soul. No answer could ring more true regarding my abstinence: "I don't like the way it makes me feel."

Feel free to use this response yourself. Not to worry, they won't see past your answer, as that would require more than .1% of brain power.

His Will (deux)

The next thing God gave me to work on was patience (I had none). 

Here's an example of how it worked: Some little old lady would hurry to get in front of me in line at the grocery store, only to pull out her checkbook and a stack of coupons. I would lose my patience and publicly berate the woman for her idiotic behavior. Of course, this led to a confrontation, which in turn, led to days of internal dialogue, stewing over "what I should have said/done" to that inconsiderate old bag.

     

Impatience led to anger which led to acting out which led to an unnecessary amount of mental energy committed to an extremely minor incident.

This scenario extended beyond grocery store lines... It happened with the guy who cut me off on the road, the woman who stole my parking spot, the Karen who confronted me at the gas station... in other words, anyone who got in my way.

I found I was angry ALL the time.

That's when I decided to pray for patience. As I've mentioned before, God doesn't grant patiences, he teaches it by sending people to test our patience... and BOY did he!

And it worked. I began to make a concerted effort to stop and take a breath before reacting. I started waving people over into my lane, I started allowing little old ladies the grace to be little old ladies, checkbooks and all.

Do you know what happened? My anger subsided and my happiness grew.

To be transparent... I'm far from perfect. I still slip every now and again and let a finger fly on the freeway, but for the most part I'm now a much more calm and content person with a clearer mind, free to focus on the positive things in my life, rather than the negative.

Funny how that works.

His Will

While in the thick of my disease, I knew, deep down inside, that I could never know happiness and peace until I let go and surrendered to God’s will.  There came a point, in my exhaustion, that I said, “Just tell me what you want.  I’ll do anything. I’ll become a missionary in Zimbabwe if that’s what it takes to have peace. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

The answer came, “There’s just one thing I want you to do right now.”

     “Name it.”  I said.

  “Turn around.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

I slowly turned and faced Him.

     

  “Now,” He said, “I want you to stop drinking.”

I was reluctant. “First I stop drinking, then I have to give up cigarettes and cussing. I know where this is headed... you want to turn me into an altar boy!”

   "I’m not asking you to do any of those things.  If you want to live in my will, we have to focus on what you need to do today. We’ll worry about tomorrow when we get there.”

   “No, God! I’m ready now! Let’s get to it!”

   “We will. But right now, you need to put down the bottle.”

     

I wanted everything now. I had to learn that things happen in God’s time… and he has ALL the time in the world.

Do You Believe?

You either "believe" in something, or "know" it... You can't do both.

If I encounter a new chair, I may believe it to be well made and structurally sound. In turn, I will believe it can hold my weight, but I won't KNOW it until I sit down.

Once I sit, I no longer "believe" in the soundness of the chair, I "know" it.

The same goes with sobriety. In my early days of sobriety, I believed the steps would lead me to emotional and spiritual freedom. I believed my life would improve should I practice the principles of sobriety. I believed... but I didn't know.

It wasn't until I went through the process, year by year, one step at a time, that I came to "know" that the Promises were true.

Now, with over 20 years under my belt and solid knowledge (not belief), I do my best to lead New Comers from belief into knowledge. I must lead by example to show them the reality of a better life through God, the Steps, and sobriety.

For those who would argue that "belief" in God is enough, I would ask, "Do you believe in God... or do you know Him?"

Why Lie?

What do ALL lies have in common? Selfishness, fear, and shame. 

People lie because they're ashamed of their actions and fear consequences the truth will bring. It's a selfish side-effect of poor behavior.

Their lying is not about you. It's about their own fear.

Addicts have ONE priority: Addiction. Everything in their world revolves around that addiction. At the same time, every addict has an incredible amount of selfishness, fear, and shame regarding that addiction.

The addict's life selfishly revolves around the addiction. Their constant substance abuse and loss of control bring them a heightened sense of shame. The fear of being found out and shamed by loved ones results in dishonest behavior (lying). 

Addiction = selfishness, fear, shame = lying.

God, Grant Me...

The day I turned 16, I went straight to the Motor Vehicle office to get my driver's license.

I was an adult... a grown up... free at last!

One problem: No wheels.

I couldn't afford to buy a car, so my dad made me a deal: He would help me buy a car, but only half a car. I would have to pay for the rest. He agreed to meet me halfway. 

Could he afford to buy me the whole car? Sure. But he was wise enough to know that if I had to work for it, I would cherish that car and take good care of it. 

He was right. I drove that Suzuki Samurai into the ground (literally until the engine fell out).

_____________________________

Early in my recovery, while doing my inventory, I discovered "patience" was a fairly severe character defect of mine. That is to say, I had none.

I prayed, "God, please grant me patience in my life." I gritted my teeth while voicing the prayer; not because of insincerity, but because I knew God doesn't "grant" patience... He teaches it.

And boy did he: A torrent of morons.

Alas, nothing was sent I couldn't handle.

Could God have "granted" me patience? Sure. But He's wise enough to know that if I had to work for it, I would cherish my newfound progress and nurture it.

So, whenever I hear someone say, "God lifted the obsession from me..." I roll my eyes. Not because I don't believe them, but because that's not my story. I simply cannot relate.

If God had lifted my obsession, without me having to do the work, I most certainly would not have cherished and nurtured my sobriety. 

Such a gift, though lovely, would have guaranteed relapse.