Happiness: Emotional Sobriety

I was at one of my favorite Saturday morning meetings this last weekend and I ran into a good friend. I could tell as soon as I saw him walking toward where I was sitting that something was troubling him. Turns out he'd had another relapse and, as in most of his recent relapses, it involved the inevitable hospital stay.

He wrote me an email last night and sort of blurted out much of what was occupying his mind and heart. He made a comment that I've been unable to get out of my head since: he said that he'd be struggling to get and stay sober in AA for several years now and he's never been able to get more than 10 months of continuous sobriety. But that wasn't what grabbed my attention. It was the next comment that during those years of being in AA, he'd never really reached a point where he felt truly happy. He can picture the happiness that he felt at earlier times in his life, before alcohol became a problem. But he simply can't picture happiness within sobriety.

What I'm realizing today is that during my first 12 or so months of sobriety, I remember feeling that sober life was really not a substantial improvement in many areas of my life: particularly in terms of my relationship with my wife. We'd been married 20 years when I got sober and it was that first year of marriage that was, for me at least, the most difficult and challenging. Surely, in retrospect, that's because during the first 20 years I was able to resort to happiness shortcuts via alcohol whenever I needed to do that. But then, when I got sober, there were no more shortcuts to happiness. The pain of poor communication and totally inadequate relationship skills was real and frequent. I had some relief from this challenge when I was in meetings, but that didn't do much to improve the relationship. I was working the steps, but I was doing that very slowly.

Earle had cautioned me not to rush head long into the 4th step even though the popular AA opinion was to do just that. He said that we were all pretty beaten up and battered when I walked into the doors of AA and that the last thing we needed to do early on in our recovery was to spend substantial amounts of time writing down how awful we were and what was wrong with us. He suggested that I wait at least a year before considering working that step. I gladly obliged....and more than that. I delayed... Then my wife said something that got me moving forward again....

We were sitting in our living room along with our youngest daughter Rachel. In the course of our conversation, my wife looked over at me and said to Rachel, "Well, he's just a drunk!". She said it with a smile and it was clear to me that it wasn't said to be mean. It was just her acknowledging that I was an alcoholic. Rachel took umbrage though and came to my immediate defense --- as she often does --- she's something of my "Protector" in the family dynamic. She sternly told her mother, "He's not a drunk! He's a recovering alcoholic. So don't call him a drunk!"

My wife, refusing to take the bait of an argument with an unarmed teenage daughter, smiled and explained that she'd meant no offense to me. Rachel then chastised her by saying that "I'm proud of Dad and that he's been sober for almost a year and a half." My wife, with a dangerous smile that only I fear, laughed slightly and said, "I know Rachel, but I'm just wondering when he's going to change."

My wife's comment hit me square between the eyes. She was right. All I'd really accomplished during those 14 or 15 months of sobriety is "not drinking." I'd gotten pretty secure in the "not drinking" part of the program of Alcoholics Anonymous, but I hadn't done much in terms of the inside work that supposedly makes longer term sobriety possible. I knew then that I was done wallowing in my 3rd Step and that the time had come for me to continue working through the remaining steps.

Sometime later, I think I had 3 1/2 years sober and had completed the steps, I was laying in bed one night doing my regular routine: reading a book and rubbing my wife's feet before going to sleep. Rubbing my wife's feet was something that began early in my sobriety when my ill-fated attempts to do a quick and easy 9th step amends with my wife failed miserably and I had to take the more difficult and time-consuming path of making a life long living amends with her: thus the rubbing of feet which goes on until this day and most likely until my death.

Anyway, one night I was reading and rubbing and she asked me a question out of the blue: "Mike, are you happy?"

Now, any of you who are men and married for any length of time know that this sort of question poses tremendous risks. You do not answer such questions with thoughtless haste. You ask yourself: what is it she's really wanting to know? But, unfortunately, her question was so simple and straightforward that even I couldn't invent any ulterior motives or hidden agendas. I quickly determined that she wanted to know exactly what she was asking me: Am I happy?

Not a question easily answered by me. I hadn't thought about this issue of happiness for years. I think that I'd resigned myself to the impossibility of happiness many years before and had given up trying or hoping for such a state of existence. There were times that I thought alcohol might provide the means of happiness: but such alcohol induced happy moments were never lasting or meaningful.

So: was I happy? It didn't take long to realize that I was basically happy and content. So, I turned around and told her that, Yes. I was basically content with my life and that I was really happy. There was nothing that I would change about my past or present.

Interestingly, this woman who only a year and a half before had commented on my not having changed after over a year of not drinking, now looked at me and smiled, "I thought so. That's why I asked." I laughed and went back to my reading and my rubbing.

I certainly don't feel happy, joyous and free every moment of every day. But I have a basic sense of satisfaction over the way my life is living out today. I'm certainly no where close to being done with my inside work. But I am ok with who I am. Right now. I'm grateful.

Is there a simple and straightforward path my friend can follow to achieve this same sort of happiness? No. And Yes.

No -- I think each person will need to find their own path in terms of dealing with the demons of the past, present and future. And I wouldn't characterize the path that I've found as "simple" or "straightforward." In addition to the 12 Steps, I've done many other things none of which have been recommended or suggested in the Big Book. My memory work is just one example of one of these tools that I've used on a regular basis to achieve the level of happiness that I've achieved. Talking things out in meetings or with other alcoholics. Sharing my struggles and secrets with my sponsors and other trusted AA friends. Writing blogs. Helping others with their struggles to get and stay sober. Being a sponsor. Meditating. Praying. Walking the dog. Emptying the trash. Putting down the lid.

And yes: there is a way of living that can bring a sense of happiness, peace and serenity. It is possible. But it takes time and lots of inside work. It takes failures. It takes commitments. And it takes failures. It takes persistence. It takes vigilance. It takes hope. And it takes despair.

As the author of "Everyday Commitments" writes at the end of his book, "All that matters is that we start over one more time that we give up; get cracking one more time than we pull away and keep going back to the drawing board one more time than we abandon it."

Take care!

Mike L.