There’s More Wrong With You Than Just Your Drinking

One of the greatest misconceptions I had as a newcomer in AA was believing that as long as I stopped drinking, I was all better.

The only thing wrong with me was that I drank and drugged too much.

Problem solved.

It was a rude awakening when my sponsor looked at me and said, “You know there’s a lot more wrong with you than just your drinking. When you accept that, you’ll start getting better.”

Well, that was wonderful news. 🤣

The truth is, many of us are pretty fucked up when we first walk into the rooms.

We’ve lived in chaos for so long that the chaos has become normal—and it shows.

When I first got sober, it felt like I had a committee of characters living inside my head. My brain was like a squirrel running aimlessly in every direction at once.

I honestly thought I was fucking crazy.

I couldn’t sleep. I was wired for sound 24 hours a day, seven days a week. My thoughts never stopped, and it was absolutely exhausting.

Yet, after 90 days, I thought I was all better.

Hell, after a month, I was already thinking, “I’ve got this. This isn’t so bad.”

Meanwhile, I was mentally and spiritually bankrupt. Physically, at 21 years old, I was already a wreck.

I remember having a conversation with a guy named Mike. We would ride our bikes together some weekends, and he was nice enough to let the young kid tag along.

I believe Mike was an alcohol counselor. He also had a few years sober, which seemed almost impossible to me at the time.

One day, we stopped at a burger joint on the North Shore. I asked him, “Do you really think I was that bad?”

He laughed.

“You do realize you were three-quarters dead when you got here, right? You looked like total shit. Pale white, all scraggly, and crazier than a shithouse rat.”

I looked at him and said, “Really?”

I genuinely didn’t know.

It’s amazing how little we understand about how damaged we are when we first enter AA—or any recovery program, for that matter.

I respected Mike and valued what he said. He had some sober time under his belt, and that amazed me.

People with a few years seemed incredible.

Old-timers with 10, 15, or 30 years didn’t even seem real. That amount of time was too overwhelming to comprehend.

I couldn’t imagine being sober that long.

Everybody’s process of getting better in AA is different. I believe a lot depends upon how willing we are.

Are you willing?

Are you willing to do whatever you need to do to stay sober?

That question was asked repeatedly when I came into AA.

If you aren’t willing, then suffer well, my friend.

Suffer well.

Looking back, I can see that I eventually became willing to do whatever it took.

When someone said, “You’re speaking tonight,” I spoke.

When I was appointed to ashtray duty, I cleaned the ashtrays.

When the business meeting came around and I raised my hand for cleanup, I showed up and cleaned.

When people told me repeatedly, “Men with the men and women with the women,” I finally listened.

I certainly didn’t listen when I first came out of rehab.

No surprise—I drank again.

That last drunk was a doozy.

I won’t get into every detail, but I fell out of a moving car because I needed to throw up.

If you know anything about Hempstead Turnpike on Long Island, you know I am extremely lucky to be alive.

Once again, I woke up with my head in a garbage can.

Apparently, I needed one more convincer.

I’m fortunate I made it through that night without killing anyone, dying myself, or ending up in an institution for the rest of my life.

I cannot tell you exactly when I came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.

What I did know was that I felt completely insane when I arrived at AA.

At first, the only thing I wanted was to stop throwing up. The only way that was going to happen was if I stopped drinking.

I wasn’t particularly concerned about sanity.

I figured I would always be nuts. 🤣🤣🤣

Sanity didn’t return through one enormous spiritual event.

It returned through time.

Someone once told me TIME meant:

Things I Must Earn.

I earned it by attending meetings, calling my sponsor and friends, and ratting myself out.

I earned it by accepting commitments and showing up to fulfill them.

I earned it by being honest with another human being.

I earned it by trying to treat people the way I expected them to treat me.

Those are the things that slowly helped restore me to sanity.

Honestly, I’m not sure I ever had much sanity before AA.

Even as a kid, I was wired for sound and completely off the walls. My guess is that I had severe hyperactivity with a healthy dose of ADHD thrown in.

I was probably self-medicating long before I understood what that meant.

The point is that getting better takes time.

After 90 days, we may still be nuts.

After 180 days, we may still be nuts.

Even after that magical first anniversary, there can be plenty of nuts left.

We were told, “Five years to get your marbles and five years to learn how to play with them.”

That sounded like an eternity when I was counting days, but there was a lot of truth in it.

Stopping drinking is the beginning. Becoming truly sober mentally, emotionally, and spiritually can take considerably longer.

Some of us are sicker than others.

Some people seem to understand the program quickly.

Some of us need additional convincing.

What I can tell you is that during all my years in and around AA, I cannot recall watching someone earnestly follow this simple program without their life getting better.

It may not happen on our schedule.

It may not look exactly the way we imagined.

We may not receive everything we want.

But we begin recovering.

So remember what my sponsor told me:

There’s more wrong with you than just your drinking.

That isn’t an insult.

It’s an invitation to begin changing.

Don’t drink.

Go to meetings.

Keep it simple.

Then give yourself the time required to get better.