A Shitty Friend

Wow! So, life throws us a curve ball once in a while. Mine caught the outside corner of the plate the other evening as I was sitting in my Friday night AA meeting. A friend sent me a brief text message informing me that a mutual buddy had apparently committed suicide a couple of days ago. So of course, moments later was the first time in a month I've been called on to share. What do you say at a moment like that? I don't really remember what I said - shared my loss and shock and befuddlement and settled back in a daze to contemplate the ceiling tiles as the meeting wound its course. Accepted a few kind words from friends and virtual strangers (nobody in the program is truly a stranger - those who know, know.)

It was a couple of hours later, after I'd had dinner, shared the news with my family (they'd met him with me at our local watering hole and he'd helped us move almost a year ago), and settled in front of the computer to visit and get a sense of what had happened, that it began to sink in. I went to his Facebook page, read some comments, shared a few, looked at the pics of his smiling mischievous face - drinking a beer (which we did a fair amount of together), hanging with friends, scuba diving, biking. I really lost it. What a waste and what a loss - one of the most intense livers (not the organ) of life I've ever known. He was what everyone dreams of in a friend - open, curious, vivacious and full of life, funny in the extreme, always ready with a tale to top whatever tales were being shared, bright, and exceptionally caring. As I mentioned elsewhere, I don't think he knew how to say no to anyone in want or need. He will be sorely missed, and I don't begrudge him for a nanosecond the decision he made on how he chose to go. To each his own. He was not the shitty friend. I was...

I am still very early in my sobriety, but am well enough dried out through AA and through counseling to finally confront the demons that drove me to drink in the first place. I've long known that I have few real friends, close friends. You know, the ones with whom you'll share your deepest secrets and fears and desires. I'm probably not very unique in that respect, relative to other men anyway. We tend to share on a pretty superficial level. Women, I think, are much better at that, and probably healthier for it.

AA helps some of us stop our drinking, but its up to those of us who choose to, to to do the deeper work of understanding and dealing with what's driving us to drink. Much of the discoveries can be painful, but richly rewarding as well. At the premature death of my friend, I find myself exploring again the pathologies of relationships and friendships, trying to divine the wheres and hows and whys of our connections with others. In my case, my shrink has helped me conclude that I was emotionally abandoned at multiple times from early childhood through early adulthood, to the point that my defense was to close myself off from all but the most superficial of relationships. I was emotionally abandoned by a mother who had four children in five years, followed five years later by another, apparently leaving her with insufficient time or inclination to give any of us what we needed in terms of emotional nurturing. My best friend moved away when I was twelve, which devastated me more than I realized or shared at the time, although I remember sitting alone and sobbing for hours on end that summer. I never spoke of it to another soul. A few years later, my young girlfriend, who I had no reason to expect to wait for me while I froze my ass off in Korea, wisely chose not to, and that was when I moved from the ranks of high-level amateur drunk to a polished world-class professional. Fresh pliant clay is easily formed, but, once hardened, infuriatingly difficult to reshape...

From that point forward, with lady friends or guy friends, my modus operandi was, I think, eerily similar. I wasn't reluctant to put myself out there enough to get attention, hopefully affection, and affirmation. Once that objective had been accomplished, I shut off the valve. I had what I was after and wasn't going to risk the tiniest amount more. I wasn't about to invest enough that I couldn't handle the loss, and as a result, invested so little I never could enjoy the full potential benefit of any relationship. Low risk, low reward. No gain, but no pain. Pretty pitiful. And pretty shitty if you are on the other side of the equation. None of this was conscious, mind you, nor intentional. Doesn't change what it is, though...

The sad, funny, ironic thing is that many people consider me a good friend, think more highly of me than I likely deserve. While it is true that I will almost always respond to a request from help from someone who asks and genuinely needs it, I don't have a pro-active bone in my body when it comes to seeking out opportunities to serve anything less than humanity as a whole. I've long characterized myself as a "forest person" rather than a "tree person." You know, macro versus micro, when it comes to other human beings. It's only recently that I've started to realize that this is a defensive behavior, designed subconsciously to avoid the personal investment in another individual's life that can, and generally will, lead to pain somewhere along the way. Alcoholics are driven by two things - resentment and fear. I resent, I now realize, my real and imagined losses and abandonments, and I fear repeating them. It's an ugly pathology that has led to a lot of heartache for those who've risked loving me. And it is a perfect factory for manufacturing shitty friends. I'm living proof...

I still cry easily, always have, and have always somehow recognized it as a healthy behavior. But the tears come much more infrequently these days, as I've donned this psychic armor against loss. Care not, hurt not. I'm a smart one to be sure...

Bert, God bless him, had apparently penetrated my protection without my really knowing. He was child-like in many ways, bi-polar and ADD I found out later and recently, which explained the quirkiness that attracted me to him the first time we met at our local brewery. He was getting treatment and some medication, but this is tricky stuff I know from family experiences. I am suspecting that this regiment likely played a role in his final act - will likely never know...

Like me, he never met a stranger. Unlike me, however, he was all in from the first encounter. He was curious and energetic - would be hurt by those who wouldn't hear him out, which were many, as his condition didn't allow for him the patience to hear someone fully out before diving in with his own take on whatever topic was in play. This was never off-putting to me, as I am a serial interrupter as well...

I know some women who played a large role in his life, and am looking forward to visiting with them at his memorial. I'm a big funeral goer, which fascinates those who know me. I always knew that these events weren't for the departed, but for those of us left behind, and had learned as well that I somehow have the capacity to provide some comfort to the bereaved in most cases. For me, I suppose it is a chance to make a little contribution to the loved ones of friends, without any risky commitment. The moral being, even if I'm a shitty friend while you're alive, I'm a real pal when you're dead. So if you're morbidly inclined...

Bert loved women, and they loved him. He was attractive, fit, energetic. If he saw a pretty girl he was likely to make a play, even if she was on the arm of a gorilla. Impulse control issues, you know? He was unable to sustain relationships, though. His mind was off on tangents too quickly for him to make and follow through on longer-term commitments required for successful healthy relationships. And I know now that those who spent sustained periods with him knew of his dark down periods, while I only knew him in his elevated states, during which he craved action and interaction. He was a dedicated cyclist and athlete, rode long distances on his bike, which I'm sure was uplifting to him, with the wind in his ears and the world flashing by and no need to focus on anything but the pumping of his well-muscled legs, deep steady breathing and the stories dancing through his mind. He'd torn an ACL in a skiing accident last spring, and had set back his own recovery a bit by pushing too hard too fast. I know this tormented him. He was also a diver, and I'm sure drew similar comfort in working underwater, alone in the nurturing embrace of the tropical seas he so loved. But a ruptured ear drum had brought an end to this enriching vocation. Life deals us all some hard punches. Bert may have been tagged one too many times...

Ruminating over our too-short friendship and too-few encounters, I find myself wondering if I might suffer from similar psychological or neurological short circuits - will be visiting with my shrink about this and getting her views. (No dark thoughts, friends - don't worry. I'm not wired that way, for sure...) Whatever the case, he reached out to me in his own way a few times toward the end, as he did to others in the final months and weeks and days. Not in a way that foreshadowed what was coming, I don't think, particularly if you're tone deaf to the suffering of other individuals, as I apparently am. Shitty...

We'd only actually visited a few times in the months since I achieved sobriety, as our normal meeting spot was the brewery that my sponsor wisely counseled me to avoid due to its potentially destructive temptations. I know he didn't like to think of me as an alcoholic, as that was me voluntarily stepping down from the mini-pedestal he'd constructed for me in his feverish mind. I think he was coming around to understanding that I wasn't that much changed, just healthier, and that what changes there were I gratefully embraced. He seemed to want me to declare him an alcoholic, which he certainly wasn't, so that he could share my experience. I feel no guilt in not taking on this responsibility. Not my role. I understand now, though, that he was hurting deeply inside, and was in his own way seeking any explanation and solution that would bring him some peace. I didn't realize this, however, until it was too late...

Our last exchange was a series of texts, that I deeply wish now I'd saved:

Bert: "I miss our visits."
Me: "Me too. Hopefully we can go riding when it warms up."
Bert:

Damn it, here come the tears again...

Is AA a Religion?

I will begin by advising both regulars and newcomers that this is only one of myriad topics that we'll be discussing here, so don't want anyone put off by this week's heavier subject matter after last week's lighthearted look at sex in the kitchen. Also, as I have many friends who are, like me, "Friends of Bill," and know that most others have been touched in some way by addiction either personally or in their families, please know that I intend no offense in anything which follows. As always, these are my thoughts and mine alone, worth exactly what you're paying for them unless you choose to assign some other value - your prerogative...

I will begin by reminding all that I am a recovering alcoholic, having just passed the seven month mark in what I intend to be a lifelong commitment to sobriety. It was with the greatest reluctance that I admitted last summer that my drinking was more in control of me than I of it, a situation I chose to reverse of my own accord, and not as the result of some precipitating incident, court order, spousal ultimatum, calamity or other outside pressure. I actually strongly considered at the time trying to go it alone, and am not convinced that I couldn't have made it. However, like most "problem drinkers" (almost always a cute term that alcoholics or their enablers utilize prior to the light coming on), I had tried half-halfheartedly to quit a few times and failed. Fortunately, my best friend Shawn, who had been a big drinking buddy and who had been in the program for more than a decade at the time, had through AA, therapy and intensive introspection, turned his life around. Fortunately I had enough sense to know that I was going to need some help. Like me, he was raised Catholic, in a household where drinking was a constant, and is a floater between agnosticism and atheism. He assured me that I was bright enough to work my way past the "God stuff" and told me that he would stand by my side, but only if I would give the program a try. I'm eternally grateful that he did.

It is interesting to note that, according to dictionary definitions, one would be hard-pressed not to deem Alcoholics Anonymous a religion. One of the definitions in Merriam Webster's online dictionary is "a cause, principle, or system of beliefs held to with ardor and faith." I can assure you that nobody who is an active participant in AA, NA or any other 12-step program will deny that this is, in fact, a perfect definition of the program. Other definitions and other dictionaries use the word "religious" pretty liberally, with little distinction made between "religious" and "spiritual." For most of us, there is a decided distinction between the two which I will get to shortly...

As a quick aside, I was similarly put off some years back - a decade I guess now that I think of it, when I was running for Congress. I was very big on campaign finance reform - was in fact my cornerstone issue (I didn't win so there may be a lesson there...) Anyway, I was trying to draw the distinctions between politics (bad) and government (potentially good.) Go ahead and look it up, I'll wait. Uh-huh. In almost every dictionary the definition of politics is "the art of government." What the hell is that all about? I just really, really hate "a horse is a horse" definitions. Sorry, I digress...

AA's GSO (General Service Organization) is tax exempt and does instruct affiliates on how to achieve tax exempt status, but pointedly relies not on the church exemption (which I think is a crock of shit) but on the general non-profit service organization exemption. Kudos for that important distinction. However, the Ninth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in San Francisco in a 2007 ruling, said "...the constitutional dividing line between church and state (sic) is so clear that a parole officer can be sued for damages for ordering a parolee to go through rehabilitation at Alcoholics Anonymous or an affiliated program for drug addicts." And rulings from across the nation since 1996 have established that "requiring a parolee to attend religion-based treatment programs violates the First Amendment," the court said. I suppose it is understandable that, just as much of the general public cannot explain the difference between spiritual and religious, the government is apparently unable to formulate a distinction either. (Read more: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/09/08/BA99S1AKQ.DTL#ixzz0cpLBaWBX) (Another topic for another day...)

Ok, enough of the formalities. You all know, or should know by now, that I don't do religion. Everyone is welcome to his or her own, and I make no judgments. I was raised in a religious household, attended parochial school and mass every day except Saturday from before I can remember to when I was 14 or so; baptized, confirmed, altar boy, the whole nine yards. Hell, I'm told all the mothers had me slated for the seminary. I guess they willfully ignored my undisguised affinity for the fairer sex. Religion can do that to you - myopia I mean. I managed to pretty well jettison the practice without losing the concept and basic beliefs, and even got baptized a second time as a Mormon, hoping to get into a certain lovely lassie's temple garments. That didn't take either, as she had some silly notion about marriage before the fun stuff and I wasn't going for any of that. Over the course of time my belief in the Christian version of God was replaced with one larger and more universal...

Point being, I'm no stranger to religion, rituals, practices, scriptures, etc. Again, there is little on the surface that distinguishes AA from traditional religions. Question is, is there anything at all? I believe there is, something rather large, and will attempt to explain...

First, AA is very straightforward in virtually all its written materials (texts) regarding "A Higher Power" and "the God of your(sic) understanding." Granted, Bill and the other founders in the 1930s were typical and traditional Christians for the most part, and admittedly introduced this flexibility only after some serious consideration. And the fact that every meeting I've been to opens with the Serenity Prayer - "God grant me the serenity to accept those things I cannot change..." and closes with the Lord's Prayer - "Our Father, who art in Heaven..." seems to mitigate in favor of the traditional western monotheistic Christian God model. The second tradition (there are twelve) states in part: "...there is but one ultimate authority—a loving God as He may express Himself ..." Again, we have a monotheistic deity apparently male in gender - old white haired fart floating in the clouds, right? But more critically, the third tradition states: "The only requirement for A.A. membership is a desire to stop drinking."

Do we detect a dichotomy here? Well, duh! Of course we do, and that's the point. While the second tradition may be offensive to atheists, agnostics, Wiccans, Hindus, Buddhists, etc., it is not exclusive - as He (yeah, I hate that too) may express himself to one as "She," as "Mother Earth," as "The Infinite Universe," or as the high holy tadpole circling the sun. The fact that a bunch of Christians used Christian language to describe the God of their understanding isn't nearly as surprising as the fact that they very generously left a hole for the rest of us wide enough to drive a universe through. And the third tradition is exquisite in its simplicity. Anyone and everyone who desires to stop drinking is invited, and by simply showing up becomes a member. I really know of no religion whose doors are that wide open, which makes so little demand on its members. You need not believe in its heaven or its hell, its sins or its salvations, honor its patriarchs or saints or cherubim or seraphim or idols or icons or texts or anything else. You don't have to read or memorize or recite or vow, to wear special garments or honor certain days, tithe or fast or self-flagellate or kneel or make signs in the air or on your body. Most critically, you are not compelled to believe anything - only desire. And that which you desire is supported by real tangible evidence in the form of fellow members who had the same desire, followed the same steps you'll be following, and have actually and demonstrably achieved exactly what you hope to achieve. Is there any traditional or non-traditional religion that you know of that requires absolutely nothing of its members, except a desire to stop doing something that is destroying our lives? If, so, please let me know...

If you Google the title of this post, you'll find several entries, almost all anti-AA and making the argument that AA is in fact a religion requiring fealty to their credos and rituals and some even accusing AA of being a cult. I will not cast aspersions on the authors, as I don't know them and haven't walked in their shoes. I will say that the one time that I tried AA before - perhaps 15 years or so ago - can't remember now, I went to one or two meetings, under spousal duress if memory serves, and walked away absolutely put off by "all the God stuff." It was God this and God that and higher power this, and surrender and pray and, aaaargh! I couldn't take it! Turns out that the problem wasn't AA - it was me. I wasn't ready yet. I hadn't hit my bottom. I hadn't admitted that I had a problem I couldn't handle by myself and that I needed help. And that's all AA is, is help. It is a tool in the tool belt - really a set of tools. Go out on a construction site sometime and see how much is being accomplished by the workers who have a belt full of tools but nothing in their hands...

My guess is that the authors of these articles are for the most part real alcoholics or addicts, came into the program looking for someone else to fix their problems, and walked away disappointed and angry. (All untreated non-recovering alcoholics and addicts, by the way, are angry. Most generalizations are dangerous, but not this one. Anger and self-loathing are two universal symptoms...) People become similarly disenchanted with actual religions, which they turn to hoping for some improvement in their lives and when it doesn't come to pass blame the church or the religion or the God or the minister or almost anyone but themselves. Of course the smart religions don't promise anything in the here and now, but only in the hereafter. Kind of tough to disprove in this life, eh? Which is another very important distinction between AA and actual religions. AA's promise is temporal, worldly, tangible. What AA promises is that if you dedicate yourself each day to not drinking, and if you follow the steps that others have followed to accomplish this task which is very difficult for most of us, that the alcohol (or drugs or eating or gambling or sex or any other addiction that has a twelve-step program) will no longer control your life. It doesn't say you'll have eternal salvation, be rich and famous, have perfect body, a shiny car, a great sex life, a happy marriage. It doesn't say that your life will be perfect or that the underlying psychological and spiritual causes of your addictive and destructive behavior will be cured. All it says is that the destructive behavior will no longer control your life. And it works...

I know we're way over budget here, so let me close with these few observations. While AA and other twelve step programs are not, in my view, religions, they are deeply and profoundly spiritual. They do require that the participant admit his or her weakness and insignificance in the face of a greater power. For me, that greater power is the eternal infinite universe, against the power and magnificence of which I am less significant than a single molecule of salt in all the oceans of the earth. For you, it may be something totally different. If, however, you believe that there is no power higher than yourself, don't waste your time, because for you, the programs won't work. For you more so, but for every addict, the problem isn't the alcohol or the drugs or the sex or the eating or the gambling or the stealing or whatever destructive behavior is your particular demon or combination of demons. The problem is you, the individual. And for those too myopic or stubborn to see their own weakness and too prideful to admit they need help, no religion or program or anything else will ease their suffering. I know. I were one once...