Step One, part one

"We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable."

-Alcoholics Anonymous, p 59

Early on, I was taught is that the first step, as written, means the following:

We admitted we were powerless over alcohol. 

We admitted that our lives had become unmanageable.

Sometimes, I've thought that it might have been easier to understand if it'd been written as two separate sentences.    Let's tackle the first one first.

How do I know if I'm powerless over something?  Here's my 'Readers Digest' set of questions:

Can I (by myself) quit?  Pot?  Alcohol?  Coke?  Speed?  Pills?  Gambling?  Cookies and ice cream?

Can I say quit?  Indefinitely?  Without relapse?  Even if my girlfriend leaves me, my car breaks, and my hamster dies?  Or if I win the lottery?  For the rest of my life?

If I want to control it, can I control when or how much I 'indulge'?  Not just usually; not just most of the time.  Not nine times in a row, ninety-nine, or nine hundred ninety nine... but every time?

And, do I think about it?  If I'm not thinking about smoking weed, am I thinking about not smoking weed?  Drinking?  Coke?  Speed?  Pills?  Gambling?  Food?

Unfortunately, as an addict, I have an inability to tell the truth from the false about myself.  In other words, I can't see things accurately about myself.  Until that's addressed, there's little I can do with any list of questions.

Luckily, what I have been able to do is have my own story demonstrated to me by others.  When I started listening to others talk about their experience with how much they used, it helped me make sense of my own use.

I started out smoking pot, I could get high and be okay for the rest of the day.  Even after I came down, I didn't have any desire for more.  Later, I'd get high, and then smoke more... even though it wasn't going to do much.  I'd know that I only had a bit left, and should ration it out.  But, I'd have to have just one more.  I'd take a toke, and know that I had something to do, but... that old thought would come: "I'm already buzzed - I might as well get really high now and do (whatever) later."

It was explained that this was because of an actual physical change in my brain chemistry.  Once I had some, it'd make me want more.

By the end, my tolerance went away.  It was a long time before I met another pothead who'd had this happen, but I met some skid row drinkers who explained that in late stage addiction, this isn't rare.  In fact, it's pretty common with alcohol.  Anyway, I'd smoke a little nug of weed, and know that if I smoked too much that I'd feel like crap.  And it was often the second or third one; it didn't take a hell of a lot anymore.

But, I'd always - always - take that second one.  And, if I wasn't feeling shaky, sick and weak, then I'd start fiending for another.  I wasn't satisfied until I was over-smoked.  A lot of folks quit smoking pot before they get to this point.

In meetings, I heard physical addiction equated to a physical allergy.  A bodily chemical reaction.  Kinda' like giving a guy with blood sugar issues a candy bar, and he craves more.  When you hear folks talking about "physical craving" at meetings, this is what they're talking about.

It's like the thermostat is wired backwards; instead of turning the heater off when the room warms up, it kicks it into overdrive, until a fuse blows.  Or it bursts into flames and torches the room. Normal people will not understand this.  Addicts will find it explains some things...

Of course, if I didn't smoke weed again, then this would all be pointless and academic.  But, I did, and it wasn't.  Which, I was told, was due to psychological addiction (the "mental obsession" discussed at meetings).

It was told to me that, if I had the mind of an addict, I'd go back to using at some time.  At some point, instead of saying "no" like the last nine hundred ninety-nine times, I'd say "yes".  I'd either just forget that I'd quit, or the thoughts would be kind of vague - like remembering a dream.  Or, I'd be upset and say "what the hell".

At some point, I wouldn't be able to "stop and think through my relapse", like my friends from treatment centers say.  Whatever I'd learned about myself, or about addiction wouldn't matter.  Sooner or later, I was going to come to a spot where self-knowledge wasn't going to cut it.  Threats of jail, losing a job, losing a spouse or kids... at some point, it wouldn't be enough.

Unfortunately, no amount of 'clean time' was going to help, either.  Case in point: I lost a friend about a year ago.  Cirrhosis of the liver after two years of relapse.  Ten years of recovery didn't keep him from going out.

I've come to believe this.  Over the years, I've heard people say that if they smoked weed/drank/did coke/whatever, that they'd lose their kids, house, job, freedom, physical health, or whatever.  And, then they'd go out anyway.  If I had a dollar for every time I'd heard that... we could go out to lunch.  At a pretty nice restaurant.

So, what is going to take care of that mental 'blank spot'?  Spiritual experience.  But, that's skipping ahead - we've still got the second part of step one to tackle, before we get to all that spiritual stuff.

-M