Raising Our Hand

Every once and awhile I hear someone say that one of their motives for staying sober is that they don't want to have to raise their hand again.  Raising our hands and declaring that we are in our first 30 days of recovery seems, for many of us, to involve some amount of guilt and/or shame.  And even more so when we're doing that "again" (or again and again...).

This week, I was blessed to see a friend of mine raise his hand again and declare himself to be back in his first thirty days of recovery.  In fact, it was day three for him.  He'd not raised his hand at the beginning of the meeting when the secretary had asked if there was anyone in their first thirty days.   He'd actually been to several meetings since his relapse over the weekend, but he'd just been unable to raise his hand and let people know.  I think it was his second relapse since first beginning his recovery several years ago.  Before he used and drank this last weekend, he'd had just gotten to two years of sobriety a few weeks before.  He was having a hard time disclosing the fact that he'd relapsed, but for some reason, he kept coming to meetings.

On Wednesday, he was unable to raise his hand when the secretary had asked.  But then what happened was that while "How It Works" was being read, he was struck by the repeated use of "honest" in the first paragraph of that reading.  Somehow, he realized that keeping his relapse a secret from us was going to get him drunk and he needed to fess up.  So he raised his hand shortly thereafter and said, "I'm Mike and I'm an alcoholic.  And I've been lying to you.  I even lied to my sponsor as I walked into this meeting today.  I drank this weekend and this is Day Three for me."

He briefly explained what had happened.  It'd happened so fast.  He'd taken a week's vacation with his daughter and had a wonderful time.  And then when he came back, he dropped his daughter off with her mother and he went to house sit a friend's house for a couple of days.  Something about being alone in that house triggered some pains from the past and before he knew it he was going through the friend's medicene cabinet looking for drugs.  He found them and took them.  And the next thing he knew, he was getting drunk.  That was a Saturday. 

On Sunday, he awakened to waves of guilt and shame.  And then he went to a meeting.  While he didn't raise his hand, he kept going to meetings for the next three days and he didn't drink.  Ultimately, the secret became too much of a burden and he spilled it all out for us on Wednesday.  I thanked him for what he disclosed because, among other things, he showed me that it's possible to come back and raise your hand again --- and that everyone welcomes you.  No one judges you (at least out loud) or condemns you.  How could we???  We'd be condemning ourselves!

I understand why people talk about not wanting to raise their hand again, but for me, I think it's a misplaced fear.  For me, the day I first raised my hand and disclosed, "I'm Mike and I'm an alcoholic!" was the best day in my life to date.  I haven't had a better day since.  I've had lots of great days since that first disclosure of who I was as an alcoholic, but none better than that day.  As I've mentioned before, the first time I really raised my hand to disclose this truth was the morning of October 20, 2001: I was in bed next to my still sleeping wife.  I'd awakened to the same thought I'd had every day the last ten months: "I can't stop drinking!"  And then a new thought followed, "Not being able to stop drinking is called alcoholism.  And alcoholism is just a disease!"  And then I saw myself sitting in a circle of people at my son's rehab and instead of lying like I had for the last ten months, I shared with them the truth: My name is Mike and I'm an alcoholic!" 

When I did that, even though the people and situation were all in my head, I experienced a freedom I'd been seeking for years.  A freedom from the compulsion or obsession to drink.  A freedom from the need to put effort into "not drinking".  A freedom to be me.

I don't fear raising my hand again.  If I drink again, I know what I'll need to do to get back into the mode of recovery.  I'll need to return to the rooms and let my friends know what happened and that I'm back to begin again.

It's funny, a few nights ago (after this guy raised his hand on Wednesday) I had my first drinking dream in several years.  I was sitting at a table and there was a pitcher of lemon aide and Vodka sitting in front of me.  I poured a glass from the pitcher knowing that it was full of lemon aide and Vodka, but it didn't dawn on me that Vodka was alcohol.  Strange, huh.  Anyway, I poured myself a glass and then began drinking it.  It's the first time that I've had a drinking dream where I actually remember the act of drinking!  Anyway, I was drinking this and then I started feeling a slight buzz.  And then the idea came to me, I'm getting a buzz because this has alcohol in it!  Fuck!

I woke with a start and my heart beating rapidly.  Feeling as though this had actually happened, I was disappointed that I had drank, but the very first thought was that I needed to get up and go to the Concord Fellowship 6:30am meeting and raise my hand!  Now!  Within a few seconds, it became clear that it was just a dream and that I didn't need to raise my hand as being in my first 30 days.  But I knew that that would be what I'd need to do if I did drink.

I've been thinking a lot about how much weight or importance we put on long term sobriety --- I wonder if we go a little too far in that regard because it seems to set an unrealistic goal for most of us alcoholics.  Takes us a little off the more secure path of One Day At a Time mantra of AA.  I don't possess 8.5 years of sobriety.  It's not something I own.  I can't sell it.  I really can't lose it.  I cherish it.  I feel tremendously grateful for it.  But my focus needs to remain with today.  I can be sober only one day: today.  I can't be sober tomorrow (that can only be a hope or a dream).  I can't be sober yesterday (that is only a memory).  I can stay sober today.

Take care!

Mike L.