ONE PILL.......or........TWELVE STEPS ?????? Just Keep It Simple...That Part Is ALREADY Proven

By Jodi Sh. Doff for The Fix

Who needs AA when you've got naltrexone? Anyone with a screaming void in their core that they've filled with alcohol, of course. People have strong feelings about Alcoholics Anonymous--it's that program we love or hate, it's everything or it's nothing. A recent Atlantic article that lauded the drug naltrexone while denigrating 12-step recovery is part of the growing firestorm of anti-Alcoholics Anonymousism.

Naltrexone was developed 20 years ago to treat drug addiction because of the way it competed with opium, heroin, and morphine for the opioid receptors in the brain--those tiny little receptors that can bring you oh-so-much pleasure, or so much pain. Based on the theory that if it could also stop the endorphins released by alcohol from reaching those same opiate receptors, it would reduce your urge to drink and gradually your cravings would subside. You'd learn to control your consumption and be free of your alcoholism, right?

But craving Georgi or Jameson isn't the problem. Stopping is not the problem. And really, even drinking is not the problem. Drinking, as every alcoholic knows, was the solution. Alcohol helped us feel whatever it was we didn't: brave, beautiful, handsome, smart, funny, enough, attractive, older, younger, bigger...better. Even those of us who wound up vomiting it all up on ourselves remembered the part where it made us feel better for a while. When it worked, booze made the pain go away. It made us more of who we wanted to be.

Most alcoholics don't even start thinking about rehab, or detox, or AA until the day comes when they drink and it doesn't work. When that happens, if you're an alcoholic, you'll take another drink, and another, and another because if the booze has really stopped working, it's just you and that overflowing barge of shame and garbage and fear floating around inside you. When the booze stops working, you are left with no way to quell that screaming void in your core. That, my friend, is a problem.

Naltrexone stops the booze from working--it speeds up the inevitable.

You can't take away a person's solution--even one that doesn't work anymore--without offering them something else, some other way to handle whatever the problem was that left booze as the solution. Alcoholics Anonymous doesn't claim to be the only way to stop drinking for everyone, but for millions of alcoholics AA has been that something else that has made the post-booze difference between a life worth living and one that is not. The spiritual aspect of AA--what detractors label religious or cultish--the part that all the finger-pointing always seems to focus on, is not necessarily religion or prayer. Some recovering alcoholics are active in organized religion, attending services at their church, temple, mosque, or synagogue. Others find they're more comfortable with something smaller or more intimate such as private prayer, a regular yoga practice, nature walks, meditation, or music.

It can be as simple as being part of a recovery community--a gathering together with people who are alike in one essential way: they understand what it feels like to need a drink, several drinks, something, anything, to get through, sometimes, something as simple as putting on your makeup. When people of like purpose gather together, they're stronger. That's simply a fact. You see it in the success of everything from cancer support groups and bereavement groups to armies. Recovering alcoholics in AA come together in that place where no matter what our outside circumstances, our inner lives intersect. This is the place in our lives where we need support, we learn to accept someone else's experience and advice, where we come to know for sure that we're not the only one out there struggling with fear, darkness, alcohol, self-loathing or self-doubt.

You'd better believe if we could do it alone, we would. If we could take a pill, or an injection, or slap on a patch and be done with it, we would. What's missing from most medical equations is that "bridge back to life" part those AAers are always going on about. What the alcoholic needs help with more than putting down the drink is living life without the drink. Sans buffer between ourselves and the outside world, and even more so, between ourselves and our inner world. The inability to be in one's own skin is a hallmark of the stories you hear repeated when you listen to alcoholics talk about life without a drink. The drink enabled us to do that, wear our own skin out in the world.

In general, alcoholics haven't a single clue how to just be in a social situation without booze, or pot, or Valium or something; how to be comfortable in their own skin and not drown in self-hate or shame. Alcoholics Anonymous is a set of instructions for how to get through the process, heal, and then pass the knowledge on by helping someone else going through the same thing. Those instructions are best passed on through the community--the fellowship--of recovering alcoholics who have already done the work. More than a century before Bill Wilson met Dr. Bob Smith, before either of them were even born, Native Americans had "sobriety circles" and encouraged recovering alcoholics to come together and get in touch with their ancestral heritage and beliefs. They understood that the alcoholic needs something bigger to believe in to stay sober, and bigger is only defined as bigger than the alcoholic themselves. The "we" part of the equation.

The program of AA as written down in the Big Book was the culmination of centuries of trial and error. There have always been cures and solutions--and what the right answer is depends on who you ask, and when.

oAncient Greeks crafted wine glasses from amethysts believing that the gemstone would keep them from getting drunk. #AncientGreekFail

oInebriate asylums combined forced abstinence with opium, morphine, cocaine, ether, and chloroform to treat alcoholics and addicts in the 1860s. #BetterLivingThruChemistry #Fail

oThe option of pre-frontal lobotomies as a cure began in 1935. Think: Jack Nicholson at the end of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. #RandallMcMurphyFail

oThe mid-1900s gave birth to Hazelden, the Minnesota Model, and the introduction of barbiturates, amphetamines, and hallucinogenics to treat alcoholism, as well as aversion therapy with Antabuse. The Hazelden model has worked for a lot of people, but better living through the wonders of LSD? #TimothyLearyFail

Designed to take you one step at a time, like babies learning to walk for the first time, each step builds on the one before, to a life worth living. Only the very first of those steps even mentions alcohol. That's where we admit we're screwed, we've fucked it all up, possibly beyond repair and redemption. We know we can't fix it, can't fix ourselves, and quickly, or slowly, we take a second step and begin to believe that someone or something outside of us can fix our crazy.

And then, that giant third step, saying okay to that someone or something. Allowing ourselves a little bit of trust for maybe the first time in years and meaning it, even if hesitantly, we let go of having to engineer every little goddamned thing in the world, in our lives. We stop fighting--we know we've lost the war. Like Chinese handcuffs, the harder we fought, the harder it was to escape, but once we start to loosen our grip, everything around us relaxed. We surrender and we begin to be free.

That freedom is found not in conquering our alcoholism, but in discovering a way to be right-sized in the world, the willingness to be a worker among workers, being neither above nor below anyone--being humble rather than humiliated. Getting comfortable in our own skin is a result of helping others and being of service in the world. Practicing being honest with ourselves and others to the best of our ability. We are reminded constantly--in meetings, by our sponsors, by the literature, and our community--to live in the now, neither obsessing about past mistakes nor living in some imagined future glory or destruction. Being right here, where we are. Look down. See those feet? That's where you are. We reach out to hold someone's hand, and we let them hold ours. Share a laugh, a story, our trepidation, or confusion, over a cup of coffee with someone we just met and feel like we've known forever.

We come together to learn how to be together.

Putting down the drink? Hell, we'd put down that drink every time we passed out. Don't Drink. Go to Meetings. Help Another Alcoholic. Drugs like naltrexone can probably help with the first part of that standard AA chant, but it's also where the help ends. Unless "combined with counseling or interventions like Alcoholics Anonymous," medical treatments only offer short-term crisis intervention for the alcoholic.

With nothing else in his arsenal, the alcoholic will do one of three options: Go right back to drinking; pick up something else; or lose his mind.

Jodi Sh. Doff has written for Bust, Cosmopolitan, xoJane and Penthouse among many other publications. Her last pieces for The Fix were about non-celebrity overdoses, the Hangover Club and powdered booze.

No Angle Born In Hell Could Break That Satans Spell...But Can You still Teach Me How To Dance Real Slow

Its February 2, in the year 2015....And I'm still alive...Sure as hell didnt see that coming!!!   Just like everything else that I assume I have Control over, This to proves to the contrary. God, As only I understand him today, is the operator of this machine.

What a ride!!!  The last several months of my life have played out exactly as planned wheather I think so or not.  I was sick as hell with this Cirrhosis monster.for the most of the ending  months of 2014. In and out of hospitals, New meds, New symptoms, Old symptoms getting worse and basically loosing my mind in the process....I, the addict that I am will forget the misery that this disease caused me. Like thinking...."oh well I'm dying...whats the use??"   Bring on those marvelous (see how I can glorify the disease) pharmaceuticals...    That change the way I feel."   But Somewhere between my first day clean and that moment,, something changed in my thinking, that I, had not even realized. I had fought the fight of my life for the last 3 years...I had prayed to a Higher Power like my life depended on it weather I felt good or bad. I had got off my ass and showed up at meetings when my head was so full of despair and confusion (caused by a condition that goes with cirrhosis of the liver called Hepatic Encephalopathy, the liver starts making ammonia, very toxic to the brain) I was not sure why I was even there. 20 minutes earlier, I was waiting in the drive thru at the bank ordering food.  Only through Grace I did make it to a meeting none the less.  lived my live a day or even a minute at a time. Took suggestions from you and the doctors. Did what was done in the beginning when I was just as desperate and dying as I was then.........That first day, weeks, months whatever. Between then and that moment as I was saying...contemplating listen to that oh so to familiar voice in my head that will still say to me on cold nights or any given time, as I make my way to my truck to go to the grocery store or wal-mart  or a meeting......That tingle runs up my back and electric fire shoots out my finger tips and that feeling.... oh that feeling where I am most comfortable takes me over and the voice speaks "We ain't coming back home tonite...at least not alone"   ....... For this addict, dope is but a symptom of my real problem...Thats when I had a choice. Something that in active addiction that i did not have....I chose not to listen to the beast that i call my disease.  I was just simply tired of starting my life over every 2 weeks. I refused the drugs....just for that day is all I had to it.....I refused the drugs just for today...is all i have to do to experience what I never had before.  I have a life today. I am living with, no longer just dying from the disease of addiction.

I have a Power in me that is just as destructive and equally as deadly to me as my Higher Power is loving and caring and wants only good for me..... The one I give the most attention to is the one who is the main operator of this machine.

Clean JFT

My AA Sponsee Died of an Overdose

By Charlotte Grey, for Substance.com

Six months ago, my sister called to tell me that Kelly had died. My sister calls about three times a year. We've never been close. I figured she needed a place to crash her drunk ass after missing her train back to campus, again. I only answered because it was late and a tiny part of me was nervous that it might be serious.

I have lost so many friends and acquaintances to addiction that I have practice at coping with grief. But this time, I got a call about someone I was meant to help.

She was sobbing hysterically on the phone, so the news came out in a high-pitched squeak: "Do you remember Kelly? She overdosed. She died. This morning. Her step-dad found her in her bed."

I did remember Kelly. She was a family friend and my sister's best friend growing up. She was a sweet, quiet girl, standing less than five feet tall, and with these bright blue eyes. Though somewhat shy, she had a warmth that drew people towards her. Also, she was a gifted artist.

It seemed surreal that she was gone.

Sadly, at nearly six years sober, I was used to this kind of thing. After all those Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, including dozens of trips across the country, I have a network of literally thousands of people--all marked secretly in my phone with ellipses next to their first names.

This is an incredible resource. Knowing that there are so many people I can call helps me stay sober. But on the darker side, having this many friends and acquaintances who struggle with addiction means I end up at a lot of funerals.

Many people in AA relapse and never make it back. I've lost friends to fatal overdoses, suicide, car accidents, alcohol or drug-related chronic illness, heart-attacks and brain aneurysms.

But that didn't make hearing this news any easier.

There is always sadness and heartbreak. But it was different with Kelly: Two years earlier, she had been my sponsee.

"For all the bags of dope I snorted and smoked, it could easily have been me that died. At 21, Kelly overdosed on a bad batch of heroin that had been circulating the tri-state area."

In AA, a sponsor is a mentor who helps take a person (usually of the same gender) with less time sober through the 12 Steps, takes their phone calls, and offers them suggestions when needed. Sponsor-sponsee relationships have been some of the most intimate non-romantic relationships I've ever had. Guiding someone else through recovery is a unique experience that helps me as much as it helps them.

In the four years I've been sponsoring, I've worked with dozens of women--some for a couple of days, others for years. I've had up to four sponsees at any one time.

"It's not your fault," my sister reassured me. "She didn't want to get sober."

Thankfully, I've been in the program long enough to really believe this. I realize I did the best I could--devoting as much attention to Kelly as I did to every other sponsee. "If someone wants the message, you can't say the wrong thing," someone once said at a meeting. "If someone doesn't want the message, you can't say the right thing."

When I first started sponsoring women, I would blame myself if they didn't stay sober. But in time, I've learned that I can't force anyone to get help. "Hitting bottom," as they say in AA, is a personal experience and everyone must arrive there on his or her own timeline. I've seen many of my sponsees relapse, but most return to AA eventually, when they're really ready. Of the ones I've reconnected with now, most have at least a year sober.

Kelly was 19 when she first reached out to me. She had just gotten out of rehab and called my sister, who came to me and asked if I would help her get connected with the recovery community. Of course I agreed. Kelly called me that day and seemed excited that someone she knew was also in recovery.

She called me daily to check in and loved going to meetings, but I could see she wasn't quite ready to let go of her old lifestyle. Though she didn't drink or use drugs, she continued to go out partying with her old friends. She identified as an alcoholic, but she had one foot out the door.

When I think back on those first few months with Kelly I'm reminded of my own early sobriety. When I started attending meetings, I felt lost in a sea of new faces. I remember how anxious and uncertain I was. At my first ever meeting, I happened to run into a childhood friend--a chance encounter that was crucial in helping me feel safe at meetings. I asked her questions that seemed stupid to me at the time, like what is a sponsor? She was patient, answered my questions and made me feel at home. I had tried to do the same for Kelly.

But I had the willingness to stay sober and remain so until now. Kelly did not. I'll never know why.

"Charlotte, I don't know what I'd do if that was you," my sister blubbered over the phone, "Thank God you're sober!"

For all the bags of dope I snorted and smoked, it could easily have been me that died. At 21, Kelly overdosed on a bad batch of heroin that had been circulating the tri-state area. My close friend relapsed and died from the same laced batch weeks before Kelly got her hands on it. Both deaths were complete accidents. I constantly hear in meetings that even one relapse could lead to death. It seemed over-dramatic when I was newly sober. Now I've experienced enough loss to know it's true.

Taking action prevented me from falling in to a black hole of depression, anger and self-pity. Despite my grief, I just forced myself to keep on living.

The day I found out Kelly died, I didn't tell my employers why I needed a last-minute personal day. They may have already noticed that I attended a higher-than-average number of wakes, but I had never told them about my recovery.

Having lost so many friends and acquaintances in AA, I had my grieving down to a science: It involved a lot of crying. I cried to friends on the phone and in meetings. As an old-timer once told me: "The only way out is through" (in other words, you have to feel your feelings, no matter how painful).

When I felt lonely, I left my apartment and completed even basic routines, like shopping or doing laundry, in the company of a friend. I kept going to meetings and doing my 12-step work--answering calls from sponsees and showing up to meet with them.

Taking action prevented me from falling in to a black hole of depression, anger and self-pity. Despite my grief, I just forced myself to keep on living. I have to push through the discomfort and pain in this way, in order to preserve my sanity.

I travelled to Kelly's home town in New Jersey for the wake. I didn't plan to tell her family she had been in AA because one of the traditions in the program is anonymity. If Kelly's family didn't already know about her attempt at recovery, she might not have wanted them to.

I hadn't seen the family since my childhood, so I didn't expect them to remember me. But as I waited in line to view her body, Kelly's twin sister, Anna, and her mother and stepfather recognized me instantly. I could tell right away that they knew.

Breaking from the stiff formality of the occasion, they all hugged me in unison, thanked me through their tears, and assured me there was nothing I could have done differently.

Anna and her mother told me stories about Kelly, and how she would talk constantly about AA. She was excited about recovery, and having me as her sponsor. For the time she was going to meetings and working the Steps, they said she seemed noticeably lighter and more peaceful.

I was floored, and overcome with gratitude to hear that our work had made an impact on her life.

I see every day how much sponsorship can help a person who stays sober. My first sponsee, Maria, and I started working together when she had just a few days sober, and was full of fear. Because of our similar histories, I was able to help her accept her painful past. She told me things she'd never told anyone--about childhood trauma, abusive relationships, cheating and psychiatric illness. I let her know that she wasn't alone. Though we no longer work together, she now has four years sober and we still talk on the phone sometimes. I can hear in her voice how much she's changed.

After talking to Kelly's family, I realized that sponsorship can also make a deep impact on someone who doesn't stay sober. Working with Kelly didn't save her life--but for a few months, it might have offered her hope.

Not everyone I reach out to will stay sober, and some might never come back. But the moment with Kelly's family at her wake renewed my determination to keep being there, as much as I can, for anyone who asks for my help.

Talk About Things That Nobody Cares

"Dam.... What model higher power is that?",  "model #666"?,,,,.....  "lol....When are you ever gona learn"?!!

That was a quote made to me, by my sponsor I had at the time some 10 years ago. It was followed by a hearty .. "Ya know Jerry,...You are going to go oh so far in this program of recovery....... Because you have sooooooooooo far to go!!!!....lol "   I had to laugh myself. I had just brought the "next love of my life,... ( a    f lamming co-dependent and a super great person) to meet him.    Oh my....That was NOT a good choice!

This is just one more of my character defects that I must work on constantly it seems. Especially at times like the present when I am licking my wounds after another failed relationship. I could have sworn I was entirely ready for God to remove this defect a long time ago......I guess not???   I can hear those words of wisdom that were spoken to me long ago loud and clear today. " You need to learn how to have a healthy relationship with yourself before you go looking for one with someone else"..... "Especially as bad as you run to others i.e. members of the opposite sex,..when you are in pain"!!!  What worked at the beginning will work now too!

Thank God for the other addicts just like me!!!

another day clean. JFT

Boy You're Gonna Carry That Weight a long Time

I wonder if I will ever learn that I DO NOT HAVE A FUCKING CLUE ABOUT HOW TO HAVE A RELATIONSHIP!!!  I have spent the past few days in a very familiar place that for some reason, I seem to find much to often in my sick ass life!  Don't know if my heart is broken in a million pieces or I just do not know what to do ?????   If I knew that shooting my veins full of dope would somehow take away the pain I would definitely not be here. Dope quit being my friend some time ago and I miss it as much as I have ever missed anyone or anything in my life. IT don't work no more!!! The only thing I had that I could turn to in these troubled times was just as big a fake and lair as IT had changed MY VERY self into.

Now I sat and wonder ( Which is absolutely the worst thing I could ever do) with this sick brain of mine. I had faith at one point in my recovery.........its just as hard to get out of my own way and capture it again.
Maybe I'll start with hope. This little miniscule amount I still do have, perhaps just may grow into that illusive faith I want so bad and wish to possess again..

Clean and dope free one more day!!

And the 3 men I admire most; The Father, Son and The Holy Ghost

Friendship often ends in love; but love ending in friendship - Never. Oh how I wish it could. Things could get alot better alot faster. Round 3 was pretty event free. For me it was only a war in my head. nevr manifested pass my twisted thoughts of how I still can't accept the past as it is. Why I feel so desperate to fix things that another person did to me?  Watch every word that comes out of my mouth. In fear that they will take something wrong and be gone. To feel as if they are just barely hanging on in the first place. And that they were the one that initiated this and contacted me?   LOL  Spoken just like the good addict I am. No wonder I doped all the time!!  I sure cannot make this horse drink thats for sure. I beleive its not thirsty to begin with. But the last thing on earth I want to see is it turn and run and all all can do is watch.