I really liked this piece from a recent chizzuk email, so I decided to bring it home and lay it on the coffee table.
12 Step Attitude: Excerpts from the SA White Book - Surrender
The program doesn't tell us how to stop - we had done that a thousand and one times - it shows us how to keep from starting again. We had it backwards; before, we always wanted the therapist, spouse, or God to do the stopping for us - to fix us. Now, we stop; and then, in our surrender, the power of God becomes effective in us....
Joining a group doesn't automatically make the problem vanish. Most of us had tried stopping countless times. The problem was we couldn't stay stopped; we had never surrendered. So, the first time the craving hits again, when we get that urge for a fix, we give it up, even though it feels like we'll die without it. And at times, in our new frame of mind, the craving may seem stronger than ever. But we don't fight it like we used to; that was always a losing battle, giving it more strength to fight back. Neither do we feed or give in to it. We surrender. We win by giving up. Each time.
Coming off our habit can be confusing.
"My head turns automatically! I can't help feeding it. I don't have any choice!"
But we always fed our habit. We simply weren't aware of it. So whenever this happens, we simply acknowledge our powerlessness. Instead of either fighting or indulging, we surrender. We pick up the phone, we ask for help (from G-d), we go to a meeting. We even admit we may not fully want victory over lust; most of us don't have pure motives in wanting to get sober.
Recovery is a slow process.
The first time we walk through the stress of withdrawal without resorting to the drug, we discover that we don't die without that fix. Instead, we feel better, stronger, that maybe there's hope. We talk about the temptation in a phone call or at the next meeting and tell all. Telling the deep truth in an attitude of surrender helps break the power the memory of the incident holds over us. And if we're hit with lust again, we keep coming back and talking it out, regardless of how shameful and defeated we feel. We've all been there; we know how it feels. We also know the release and joy that surrender brings as we come back into the light.
Usually we find that our initial surrender was incomplete and we begin to see some loose ends. We discover some rain checks secretly stashed against future need. Like alcoholics hiding their bottles.
"It's her key; I can't throw that away."
"I'll keep his phone number; I may be able to help him sometime."
"I'll get rid of the magazines later..."
In recovery, we simply throw the stuff away. No one has to tell us, we just know. We always knew; we just never had the power to let them go. The Next Test, and the Next... Sooner or later, the urge strikes again, sometimes out of nowhere, like a tidal wave crashing over us. Wham! Maybe it's the first time we feel rejected. Any of countless triggers can do it; it really doesn't matter what they are. We all have them.
"I never thought I'd hear from that girl again. Now what do I do?"
"It's too overpowering!... No one will know the difference."
"A look never killed anyone..."
"Everyone's doing it!"
Often it begins in the privacy of our innermost thoughts, when we're alone, when we're living inside our head and the emotions we could never face overwhelm us. So what do we do? Naturally, we want to reach for the drug again; that's what we programmed ourselves to do. Instead, we surrender. Again. Just like the first time. And the cry for help goes up again: I'm powerless (G-d); please help me!
And we take the action of getting out of ourselves and making contact with another member. As soon as possible. The closer to the heat of the action the better. We use the phone. We make the call. Not because we want to, because we don't want to. We call because we know we have to. Our survival instinct comes to life. And we go to a meeting as soon as possible.
When we first come into the program, this cry for help is, in effect, a shotgun working of Steps One, Two, and Three. Surrender, of whatever sort. That's all it takes, and not one of us does it with all the right motives. When the craving hits again, we repeat this surrender at the very point of our terror, in the pit of our hell. For that's where the admission of powerlessness really works, when we're in the raw heat of temptation and craving. Again, it's the change of attitude that brings relief. Instead of, "I've got to have it or I'll die!" our attitude becomes, "I give up; I'm willing not to have it, even if I do die."
And we don't die! We get a reprieve. Again. For seconds, minutes, hours, perhaps even days and weeks. The tidal wave is spent. The craving passes. And we're okay. We are learning the truth of the program maxim, "One Day at a Time".
But there will be another wave behind it, and sooner or later we get hit again. This may knock us off balance.
"Why do I always feel recovered after each bout and then get caught off guard by the next wave?"
Often, seeing we've stopped acting out our habit for a time, we feel we're free of it forever. This may just be the time it strikes again. So the realization slowly dawns that we may always be subject to temptation and powerless over lust. We come to see that it's all right to be tempted and feel absolutely powerless over it as long as we can get the power to overcome. The fear of our vulnerability gradually diminishes as we stay sober and work the Steps. We can look forward to the time when the obsession - not temptations - will be gone.
We begin to see that there's no power over the craving in advance; we have to work this as it happens each time. Therefore, each temptation, every time we want to give in to lust or any other negative emotion, is a gift toward recovery, healing, and freedom - another opportunity to change our attitude and find union with God. We didn't get here in a day; it took practice to burn the addictive process into our being. And it takes practice to make our true Connection as well.
Reprieve
At the first sign of relief from the obsession, we may get complacent. Once we've learned to live without the most obvious stuff, we may sit back and relax-take it easy.
"It's like the switch just turned off. Sobriety's a snap; there's nothing to it."
We may feel as though the obsession was really something foreign to us, pulled out like a thorn from a finger; and that we can remain unchanged, with the same attitudes and thinking as before.
"I'll just get outta here and go see that movie. I can always close my eyes on the bad scenes."
Like it or not, that's the way many of us seem to do it. By degrees. Instead of running joyously to heaven, we seem to back away from our hell, one step at a time. Thus, often shying away from full slips, some of us think we can allow ourselves partial slips, enjoying the temporary relief they bring. Testing our limits. We have all sorts of strategies for denial.
We may start looking around, just free enough of the compulsion to start noticing what's out there again. And we see that everyone seems to be doing what we can no longer get away with. We feel the pull of it inside.
"How can anything that looks and feels that good be so bad for me?"
A sadness may come over us. We may find it hard to go to sleep. We may get fidgety, feel at a loss, feel empty, not knowing what's wrong. The old inner panic hits again, and we reach for our drug.
That's when we get into action again. The pain-not to mention the fear of falling-jolts us into reality. We go to a meeting, get on the phone, contact someone we trust. We get out of ourselves and get moving.
"If I stay inside my head now, I'm dead!"
Again, we acknowledge that we are powerless over the obsession, only now we may add a little more to our cry of desperation: "Please help me (G-d). Thy will, not mine, be done."
And another breath of relief and comfort comes. Reprieve again. Respite. Even though we may be lulled into complacency again, this is a moment of inner peace, the likes of which we never knew before.
We can be deceived because we may have surrendered "on a full stomach". We'd just finished a destructive bout and sworn off, "Never again!" And we meant it. (Didn't we always?) But the very next time we have the urge and the wave breaks over us again knocking us off our feet, we don't act out our habit, we don't resort to our drug - one day at a time, one hour at a time, sometimes one minute at a time. And the craving passes!
Surrender is a constant thing. Practice. Day by day, hour by hour. Put into practice so often, it becomes habitual. That's how we get the attitude change that lets the grace of God enter to expel the obsession!