Relapse

Last Saturday, Sheldon took me out to dinner for my (then) upcoming sobriety anniversary. I asked him if his mother could go along, because I always enjoy her company, too. We went to a popular restaurant, and as we were waiting for our meals, a lady at the next table was served a beer in a tall mug. The beer looked really enticing in the cold mug, and I thought about how nice it would be to order one. Then I gave myself a mental slap and asked myself why I was thinking that way? I don't even like beer! The answer to my question, of course, is that I am an alcoholic, and "the idea that somehow, someday he will control and enjoy his drinking is the great obsession of every abnormal drinker." ¹

In December of 1941, General Douglas MacArthur had more than eight hours warning following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor to prepare his base for an assault. Although he touted himself an expert on the Far East, he underestimated the military might of Japan. He did not disperse the aircraft from his base on the Phillipines for concealment. The planes, including seventy-two P-40 Warhawk fighters, sat in pretty rows on the airfield, vulnerable to attack. When the Japanese bombers came, most of the U.S. aircraft were caught on the ground and destroyed. MacArthur had a fool's measure of hubris, and when he failed he always pointed the finger at someone else.

Tuesday was a long day. I went to my early morning meeting and picked up my anniversary medallion. Afterwards, I went to the office early to prepare for a monthly evening meeting. I was at work until 10:00 p.m.

Wednesday morning I slept in, and as I was getting ready for work, I got a call from my sponsee, Hope. Hope was shaken because two of our home group members had relapsed. One woman had been on vacation, got into a disagreement with a family member, and went to the hotel bar and drank. Her story prompted a woman with nine months of sobriety to confess that she had relapsed over the weekend, but had been ashamed to tell us.

I explained to Hope that relapses are part of the disease process, not the recovery process. There is no requirement to relapse. It is an experience you may miss, if you choose. No one that I have talked to felt that it was a dandy idea afterwards. For some, though, it seems to be the event that really makes them value sobriety, and they return to embrace the 12-step program. AA always welcomes everyone back; unfortunately, not everyone makes it back. One of my friends told me about a man he met when he was in rehab. After his release, the fellow relapsed and tried to detox himself in a hotel room, and that's where his family found him - dead from a heart attack. Withdrawal from alcohol without medical supervision can be fatal.

I was fortunate that I collapsed at the home of a friend, and she immediately called the rescue squad. The decision about medical help was taken out of my hands. In the hospital, I required several blood tranfusions, insulin, and massive doses of potassium - in addition to medications and multi-vitamins. My liver was in terrible shape; I was dehydrated, and severely anemic. I was constantly monitored through several days of detoxification. When I went home, I knew that drinking meant death. I drank two nights in a row anyway, even though I did not want to do so. That is when I knew that I could not stay sober without help.

When I woke up the morning after my second night of drinking following hospitalization, I reached the bottom. I could no longer fool myself into thinking that I chose to drink. I could not honestly say "I can quit whenever I want...I just don't want to quit." All of my reasons and rationalizations were stripped away, and I felt completely beaten. I went to the local AA website and found a meeting near my home. Something about that simple action kept me sober. When we were at dinner the other night, we were talking about Sheldon meeting me for the first time about two weeks after I joined AA. Sheldon was laughing about how bad I looked, and he told his mom "I was almost afraid to shake his hand, because I was afraid his arm would snap off." But he did shake my hand and he offered to help me, because that is what the sober members do for people like me who walk in frail & bewildered.

So, unlike General MacArthur, I do my best to stay on guard. Warning signs are heeded. I know that the disease will employ surprise attacks, like the thought that pops in my head when I see the cold mug of beer at the next table in a restaurant. Or anger and resentments which will take me to a hotel bar if I allow them to fester. When I think about how nice a martini would be, I'm thinking of the days long ago before I was an alcoholic, so I refocus my thoughts on how miserable I was a month before I came to Alcoholics Anonymous. A day will come, though, when this line of defense will not work. The best offense is the daily maintenance of my spiritual condition. That is why I pray & meditate. I thank God each morning for keeping me sober the previous day, and ask for help staying sober today. I go to at least one meeting nearly every day. I also go for the laughter and fellowship. We are not a glum lot! I found my sense of mirth again in AA. I have "succumbed to that gay crowd inside, who laughed at their own misfortunes and understood his." ²

¹ Alcoholics Anonymous (Big Book), page 30
² Alcoholics Anonymous (Big Book), page 160