The Point

by Caroline M

I was hung over again, head pounding, in a terrible mood. It was also a school morning so I was rushing with breakfast and lunches for my two kids and getting myself ready for work. I went to get milk from the fridge where the cat was weaving back and forth, making a fuss to be fed. I stuck my foot under its belly and hefted it out of my way. Roughly. The cat yowled. My kids yelled, “Mom, what are you doing?” I slammed the fridge door shut by way of an answer.

When I was hungover like that, I just wanted everyone and everything to get out of my way and now! Today I cringe at the memory of what my kids had to put up with when I was drinking, never mind booting the innocent kitty out of my way.

Following another horrible hangover at Thanksgiving in 1984 I put myself back on the wagon, which I had done many times before. I was always shocked that even after years of not drinking I still couldn’t have one sip, or one glass, without getting drunk – sick drunk. The fun had stopped years ago but I still harbored the illusion that maybe it’d work for me like it used to. Maybe this time it would relieve the tension I’d feel going into a strange setting, maybe it’d help me just one more time to shake off the rough day at work and be a more relaxed happy mom. But instead I’d turned into a mom who kicked the cat and put our lives in danger on the freeway.

I’d turned into a mom who kicked the cat and put our lives in danger on the freeway

Now it was Christmas and without my nightly bottle of wine I was restless, irritable and discontent while others around me were full of the joys of the season. I decided to celebrate in the spirit of grandiosity and throw a British-style Christmas party for all my clients. But I just couldn’t imagine Christmas without sherry. Even though in my mind I wasn’t going to drink it, I thought I would find a way to use it in a recipe so I bought something cheap from Safeway and began cooking.

Pies were in the oven and I thought I should now make a sauce using the sherry. A sauce for what didn’t really matter, the important thing in that moment seemed to be opening the sherry. I just couldn’t keep my eyes off that bottle. I’ll never forget the comforting thunk of the cork as it sprang free and the smell of that cheap sherry that seemed to instantly seduced me, like the whiff of an old lover’s aftershave.

I couldn’t resist its lure. Without a second thought I began guzzling straight out of the bottle and within a few minutes the kitchen started spinning so badly I had to steady myself against the counter and I thought I was going to throw up. I knew I wouldn’t be able to finish the holiday pies so I called my son to the kitchen, telling him I wasn’t feeling well and to turn off the oven at a certain time. He looked at me, saw the bottle on the counter and said those words that pierced my heart “Oh Mom. You didn’t!”

Something in me just broke. I had a strong physical sensation in my chest, like a door slamming. I knew in that moment, without question that I was done drinking. In that moment, I conceded to my innermost self that I had lost all control of my drinking and was undeniably an alcoholic.

I learned how to go on a date sober, go to clubs, parties, dances, to go out for coffee

I staggered off to bed and the next day, Thursday, December 20, 1984, having not slept at all, with a pounding head and a heavy heart, I walked into the noon meeting at the Marin Alano Club in San Rafael. The room was full of cigarette smoke. There were only a couple of other women, and many of the men there looked like they were on their break from a construction site, guys I wouldn’t normally mix with. But it didn’t matter. I knew I was safe and felt an instant kinship with everyone there. Most importantly, I was ready, really ready to listen to direction for the first time in my life. I had been a know-it-all, hated others telling me what to do. But all that changed, in fact had to change. I heard them say 90 meetings in 90 days. They said, “Keep coming back.” They said, “Easy does it.” They said, “One day at a time.” I soaked it all in and did my best to follow instructions. When I called other women in the program, the wisest responses were along the lines of “Well honey, I don’t know how to solve that problem but I do know not drinking and getting to a meeting will help.” And it always did.

Following directions, eventually I found a sponsor, worked through the steps and in turn re-worked all the steps with sponsees. It’s a wheel that keeps on turning and each day I get to start again. I still appreciate waking up without a hangover and a clean slate for the new day. I ask God to let me be of service, however it would be in the best interest of the other person. It’s not always comfortable or convenient, but I’ve learned how to stretch out of my little comfort zone and little by little I make spiritual progress. I notice my reactions are kinder; I’m slower to anger; I make sure to stay connected to God through the 11^th Step. Each night I review the day for things that might have been done better and write a gratitude list for all the blessings I enjoy.

Through God’s grace I haven’t found it necessary to take a drink for any reason including divorce, breakups, deaths, illness, loss, financial concerns, and I can take no credit for that. We don’t get sober on our own, nor do we stay sober without ongoing attendance at meetings and working the steps with a sponsor.

Over the years I’ve learned to mourn sober, to cry and write and talk out the pain of loss and disappointment through the 4th and 5th steps. I’ve learned how to look at myself honestly, accept my human frailty, be satisfied with “progress not perfection,” and do my best to amend behaviors that are harmful to myself and others.

Old habits die hard, but the new habit of sobriety was oh so much easier than the shame and guilt that came with hangovers and cringing at ugly memories of bad behavior. The new habit of going to meetings – ninety in ninety for my first 3 months – was a revelation. After a year or so I learned how to go on a date sober, go to clubs, parties, dances, to go out for coffee, ice cream, movies, join a church, take walks on the beach – all without alcohol, something I could never have imagined possible.

Over time I’ve also learned how to be a better friend, parent, listener, team member. I don’t take offense nearly as easily as I used to. Through the 4th and 5th Steps I became aware of how my actions affect others, and even though I know I’m not responsible for how others react, I can be more sensitive to the fact that others have feelings and take those into consideration. I think things through a little better instead of instantly giving others a piece of my mind because that would make me feel better in the moment. The instant gratification monkey stays safely in its cage.

In AA we learn about the benefits of pausing when agitated and I’ve found that my daily practice of the 11th Step slows me down. I actually do get to pause before speaking or acting. I had a really awful habit of interrupting, I just couldn’t wait to share my thoughts and opinions, but I’m learning to wait my turn and hold my tongue. I’m still me, but an improved version. Thank you AA for the incredible, blessed makeover.

by Christine R

“More than most folks, alcoholics are tortured by loneliness … There was always that mysterious barrier we could neither surmount nor understand” (Twelve Steps & Twelve Traditions, Step Five). How did our authors know we were coming along some 86 years later? Paul B., who lived with the Lakota Indian nation, came to understand through their teachings that loneliness is particular to humankind. When I tell you, “I’m lonely,” you know what I’m talking about. Likewise, when you say, “I’m lonely,” I know what you are talking about. There’s no need to quantify, qualify or clarify our feelings of loneliness. 

Lakota elders told Paul the cure for loneliness is found through the human touch. They went on to tell how, through the human touch, we can find Great Spirit / higher power. Great Spirit comes through connection with one another. As alcoholism means disconnection, recovery is connection. And through our connections we find a source and strength greater than ourselves.

The cure for loneliness is found through the human touch

Our meetings, on the phone, on Zoom, or in person, provide that connection, that “touch” for one another. Since the pandemic, we seldom hold hands and chant the way we once did. Nonetheless, we still touch one another as we give voice to our loneliness with our shares and ease our lonesomeness with our commitments to bring us to the meetings. 

On the afternoon my mother died, I went to a meeting. At the Reno Triangle Club, I found myself taking in a meeting. Not drinking. But oh, so sick at heart! So lonely! Wouldn’t you know? The young woman sitting next to me said her father died only 3 days previously. Instantly, we had connection. No, who set that up, do you suppose?

Next came a cold January afternoon at the San Rafael Alano Club and I’m sharing my grief around my mother’s death. Wouldn’t you know? Sitting next to me is a grief recovery specialist and a long-time member of our fellowship, Caroline. After the meeting, Caroline informs me she happens to be a grief recovery specialist and she can help me. Who set that up?

Not only did she support me through my grief recovery, she also insisted I find a newcomer. Even through the depths of my grief, I agreed. Within 24 hours, up comes a smiling newcomer, asking for my sponsorship. Who set that up? 

Together we worked Step 1. She with her powerless situation over alcohol; I with my powerless situation over death. Together we found Hope in Step 2 and the sense of sanity as described in that Step. The 12 Steps are for the lonely to find companionship, connection, and Great Spirit. A very Great Spirit indeed. To watch people recover, to see them help others, to watch loneliness vanish, to see a fellowship grow up about you, to have a host of friends—this is an experience you must not miss.

by Jackie B

Why does our Area and District take an inventory? For the same reasons we as individual recovering alcoholics take a “fearless and moral inventory” in our step work. “A business which takes no regular inventory usually goes broke. Taking a commercial inventory is a fact-finding and fact-facing process. It is an effort to discover the truth about the stock-in-trade. (Alcoholic Anonymous, Chapter 5, “How It Works” p. 64). AA groups and service entities – such General Service and Intergroup – conduct their own searching and fearless group inventories to evaluate how well they are fulfilling their primary purpose, to help the suffering alcoholic.

Service commitments in General Service typically last for two years. These two-year terms of service are called “panels.” We are currently in Panel 71, because 2021 is the 71st year our Area – California Northern Coastal Area 06 (CNCA 06) – has sent a Delegate to the General Service Conference. Panel 1 took place in the first trial year of the Conference in 1951. In the first year of each Panel, which happens to be the odd year in our Area, it is customary for both our Area and District to hold an inventory. The Area-wide Inventory will take place at the Fall Inventory Assembly on Saturday, November 6, 2021 on Zoom. Our District Inventory will take place during our regular District meeting that same month, on Tuesday, November 9, 2021.

Some groups take inventory by examining how well they are abiding by the Twelve Traditions. At the District and Area, we sometimes look at our relationship and understanding to the Twelve Concepts of World Service. Ultimately, the inventory questions are up for the group conscience to decide. A great place to start thinking about possible Group Inventory questions is one of the most important – and most under-utilized – pieces of literature we have in AA: The A.A. Group pamphlet (p. 29).

If your group decides it would like to hold a group inventory, your friendly neighborhood District Committee Member (DCM) or your District Officers will be more than happy to point you in the direction of a facilitator or service sponsor who can guide you through the process.

In Love & Service,

Jackie B

District Chairperson (DCMC), Panel 71

[email protected]

California Northern Coastal Area 06 (CNCA 06) – District 06 San Francisco =www.sfgeneralservice.org

by John W

At a speaker meeting early in my sobriety I was to hear a claim that puzzled me greatly at the time, because I was on no pink cloud and the wreckage of my present lay strewn about me. The speaker had observed, “You can take the alcohol out of the alcoholic, but you can’t take the alcoholism out of the alcoholic.”

I had wanted so desperately of course to not be an alcoholic. You know what I mean – one of those falling-downers, wearing a trench coat on a hot summer day, slumped over in dark places, trying to bum spare change. That was an alcoholic and that sure wasn’t me. I had some trouble with the law (that crashed car in my history was never an easy memory) but I lived in a nice house, had a wife and kids and a good job. I may have had trouble with booze every once and a while, but nothing I could not handle, nothing I could not fix.

The rude awakening of my bottom replaced my fantasy of life with reality. While the spiritual awakening, which I was to find as a result of working the steps, was on the horizon, it was still quite a distance off when I heard this speaker’s comments. These words had dashed my hope of a miracle cure I had been expecting. I wondered if I would ever be OK again. As the sober days began to mount, I was graced with a sponsor who has managed to stick with me through thick and thin. But at our first meeting, after my affirmation that I was willing to go to any lengths, he asked me what I thought things would look like in 365 days. Ruling out a PowerBall winning ticket or Bill Gates giving me his fortune, he asked for my realistic future outlook.

I was graced with a sponsor who has managed to stick with me through thick and thin

After some reflection I gave my reply. He responded that I had underestimated the benefits of the program on which I was beginning to embark. He then guaranteed me that things would be so much better than I had just declared I would consider fantastic if they materialized in the next year. In the days and with the work that followed, when my reticence to do the next right thing confronted me, he would remind me of the affirmative reply I had given to him before. These reminders became the antidote for my fear when it reared its ugly head, disguised as uncertainty or “wrong place, wrong time.” So although our journey was indeed painstaking, his guarantee to me proved no idle ploy. He made good on his promise. Though my play had not followed the script I had written, I had won a personal Tony nonetheless.

As we had then moved to Step Ten, my question to him was, “Now what?” His reply was as if set to a familiar lilt: Keep on Trudgin’. What I had started to integrate his help into my daily life, it would be with me for the rest of it he said, I needed but to Keep On Trudgin’.

However, because I am the kind of person I am, always in search of the easier, softer way, I sought a second opinion. I asked a fellow with time and who had what I wanted how he had kept on trudging over the years and hurdles of his sobriety. I wondered and asked him what the key to Step Ten was for him. “Discipline” was the one-word reply. After he let that sink in, he said I would never be cured of alcoholism (where had I heard that before?). My best hope was for a daily reprieve. But he said that for him, an atheist, his focus on the spiritual challenges of this task required he stick to it in a rigorous, disciplined way. As a result, he said he had found that regardless of one’s concept of a Higher Power, in his time he saw that those people who worked the steps and did not just “talk the steps” seemed to persevere. He said that I was likely to find that the traits I exhibited when I was drinking were still behind that face I saw each day in the mirror. My demons were there, ready to ensnare me if I failed to stay focused on the program that had brought me that gift of sobriety in the first place.

My question to him was, “Now what?”

My sponsor, my second opinion, and now so many others, too, have all echoed the words of that speaker from my past. Those comments were now no longer a puzzle to me: they had become an insight into my disease. The spiritual awakening of which they had been a harbinger could and would be achieved, today, as long as I was willing to Keep On Trudgin’.

by Bree L

During the pandemic, Laurie realized how bad her drinking was. Every night she’d drink, feel good for a brief time, pass out, wake up in the middle of the night feel remorse and say, “I’m never going to do this again.” Then she would repeat the exact same cycle, again and again.

She started out with wine, moved to hard liquor, then back to wine, but always drinking more than she’d planned. She began with cans of wine and graduated to two small single bottles of wine from the liquor store, to control her drinking. The quantity turned into the same as half a bottle, much the same as before.

She talked with a therapist all through these tribulations, saw it was getting worse and tried to figure out remedies. She tried group therapy, a harm reduction group. Throughout, she was trying to avoid AA, saying to herself, anything but AA. She could not say she was an alcoholic. Then when the pandemic hit, she’d done everything she could and realized she couldn’t hide from herself anymore. She googled “AA.”

Always drinking more than she’d planned

“I need help,” she told the woman on the phone. The kind woman asked, “Do you want to go to a meeting?” She explained there were meetings on Zoom and how to find them. Laurie started attending AA meetings. It was easier to attend Zoom meetings as she didn’t have to dress and could appear as she wanted. Meanwhile, she looked at all the little boxes and started listening.

It was a blur in the beginning as she went to many different meetings at different times of the day. She went before work, during lunch hour, after work and found relief.  She watched people clap and smile, and felt the support, knowing she was in the right place. She listed her number in the chat. People called her. Why would they call me, she wondered? One woman arranged an outside conversation and Laurie decided they could work together.

A few weeks later Laurie relapsed. Her new friend said she might not be ready, and they separated. She took to heart what the woman had said about being ready but kept going to meetings. She continually asked herself if she ready or not. Over time, she became less disoriented, foggy, and approached someone else who regularly spoke with knowledge at her meetings. That person became her sponsor.

Returning to the same meetings as best as one could

She’d heard the term “home group” and realized it meant returning to the same meetings as best as one could. She hooked up with a daily group and this felt like home. The faces became familiar, and she was able to meet them in the outside world. She felt like she was being carried by the people in the Zoom boxes. It just took a while to see how much they were carrying her. She thought she needed in-person meetings until she realized there was a way to connect between phone calls and meetings. Her sobriety date is August 15, 2020. She now has one year and two weeks.

by Rob S

As a Los Angeles taxi driver during the 1980s, many “adventures” took place, calling for immediate use of Step Ten. For instance: Drunks vomiting in the back seat, passengers who take off running to avoid paying. One mentally ill guy announced he had no money but just wanted to go for a ride, which cost me about ten dollars on the meter. A rich family, after a thirty-mile trip to LAX, which included my heavy luggage handling, left no tip. After these sorts of adventures I was naturally experiencing anger. Maybe worse!

Luckily, AA had taught me that repeated thoughts of anger and resentment could threaten my sobriety – but what to do? This is where page 84 from the Big Book came in handy. It said to ask God, at once, to remove my anger and then to discuss my defect/shortcoming with someone. LA has clubhouses galore so “at once” was no problem. Lastly it suggests: ‘We resolutely turned our thoughts to someone we can help.” I think this could be a prayer for someone, or even planning a birthday gift. Bill Wilson’s Oxford Group mentor, Reverend Sam Shoemaker, summed up A.A. as: “Out of self, into God, into others.”

AA has provided the ability to control my mind, to some degree – at least better than before. I like to think before I think! When I feel thoughts of selfishness, dishonesty, resentment or fear coming to consciousness, I go to God for help. A simple statement such as, “Be still and know that I am God,” seems to calm me down enough to stymie destructive thoughts. What freedom!

Anger and resentment could threaten my sobriety

I have learned that when negative emotions begin to take over, Step Ten has taught me what to do. Step Ten is indeed an all-day-long step! Its rewards are beyond belief: “The problem (mental obsession) has been removed. It does not exist for us” (p. 85). That is, so long as I remain in a fit spiritual condition, Step Ten allows this to happen.

Its rewards are beyond belief

Of course, the clear-cut directions mentioned on page 29, are not laid out on pages 59 and 60 of the Big Book, or on the pull-down “window shades” on the wall. These are only a preview, or a table of contents, if you will, of the Twelve Step process that is explained on the following pages of the Big Book. Bill Wilson tells you what he is going to tell you; then he tells you; then he tells you what he told you.

It was pointed out that there are five clear-cut directions on page 84, and I believe it is important to be aware how I learned how to live them in my life: “Watch for selfishness, dishonesty, resentment and fear” was from Step Four; “When these crop up, we asked God at once to remove them” was from Steps Six and Seven. “We discuss them with someone immediately” was from Step Five; “Make amends quickly if we have harmed anyone” was from Steps Eight and Nine; “Then we resolutely turn our thoughts to someone we can help” was in Step Twelve.

Following all this is progress, not perfection, for yours truly. Sometimes I don’t even come close. Yet, I have not had a drink since my first AA meeting. For this I remain eternally grateful.