Table of Contents
April Articles
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Vol. 61 No. 11
A Funny Thing Happened Around Ten Years Sober
Now, with fifteen years of continuous sobriety, I'm beginning to think that I was a newcomer for the first ten years of sobriety; that the second decade is the mid-timer range; and twenty and above may, just may, qualify me as an old-timer, God willing. In my newcomer years, I was, to a large degree, desperate, willing, and spinning my wheels like mad. After three years of trying to recover with just the Big Book, God, and me, I was brought to my knees in one of many sober bottoms, and became willing to recover based on the three sides of the triangle, the Three Legacies of Recovery through the Twelve Steps, Unity through the Twelve Traditions, and Service through the Twelve Concepts. I plunged headlong into reading and studying AA literature -- this time with other people. I got involved in almost every kind of service imaginable. I did the Twelve Steps and made amends. It was all about footwork, footwork, footwork. I tried to pray, wish, and will away all my character defects, and some of yours. Those last bits weren't very successful, but at least they kept me busy. A funny thing happened around ten years sober. I sat down, looked around, and realized that my outside world was in pretty darned good condition. Strangely, though, I still felt uncomfortable, restless, irritable, and discontented. I didn't realize it yet, but I had just made the transition to my next phase of recovery, this one stressing the "inside job" that I had so often heard about in meetings. I was no longer feeling desperate and begging for miracles. I was no longer in survival mode. After ten years of sobriety and perseverance in the AA program, I had a life! Now what was I going to do with it? Thanks to my sponsor's gentle nudging, I left my comfortable home group and friendships and leapt into the great unknown -- graduate school in another state. This led to an internship, and then a job overseas. Having heard too many shares about picking up a drink after moving, I vowed that I wouldn't let myself go down that road. AA became, more than ever, my oxygen. I didn't wonder whether or not I was going to go to meetings, get a home group, and be of service. I just did so -- whether I was in a location for three months or three years. It was a wonderful way to keep it simple. My real lesson in mid-timer angst occurred during my time overseas, at around thirteen years sober. After years of being oblivious to the fact, I had somehow veered into a very agnostic AA program. I became so "nuts and bolts" with Steps, service, and sponsorship that I missed out on spirituality and God-consciousness. I had hit a wall with spiritual growth. I finally told a dear AA friend of mine about my godless predicament. She asked me, "So how much time do you have now?" I felt my cheeks flush with shame. "Thirteen years." "Oh yeah," she said, "you're right on schedule. That's when it often hits." I couldn't believe it! That was the beginning of the end of my secret agnostic-in-AA period. I was free just to be the imperfect me I was. This agnostic phase has lasted for a good three years now, but I can see I am moving through it, one day at a time. Through inventory, I've learned that I had a small and undependable God (with characteristics that strangely resembled my parents'); one that sometimes helped me, sometimes ignored me, and in general was quite indifferent to whether I stayed sober or whether I was happy. It was shocking to discover that I was the one who made God so small; that even my imagination, as active as it was, couldn't quite grasp the idea of a loving Higher Power. Perhaps I now need to become more open-minded about what God is and isn't; not quite "firing" my Higher Power, but letting it expand and grow into something more powerful and meaningful to me. This is an ongoing adventure and process of discovery, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. My mid-timer years thus far can be summarized with few words: perseverance, humanity, humility, and imperfection. I no longer strive for perfection; I strive for excellence. I allow myself to be human. My mantra has become "surrender, surrender, surrender." I choose to persevere on the AA path of recovery, unity, and service. Humanity, humility, and imperfection all blend together in one big mess -- or beautiful package, depending on the day -- and embracing this imperfection (what I feared most during my drinking days and first ten years of sobriety) is the freedom I was looking for all along. Anonymous, New York, New York
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I was tickled to see the theme for this month's issue, "the challenges and solutions in the middling years of sobriety." The first challenge I encountered with this topic is defining what the "middle years" are. Earlier in sobriety, I figured the middle years were, oh, from two to five years of sobriety. After five years, surely, I should have everything figured out and graduate to a wise, perpetually serene, fully-loved, and appreciated old-timer.