Beware of those tentacles reaching out from the past because they have one thing in mind, leading you back to a drink or drug.  I’m talking about an insidious creeping in of old behaviors and attitudes that can take down anyone, no matter how much time you have in sobriety. I used the picture of ivy because that’s what I think really captures this phenomenon.  You have a wall – the wreckage has been cleared away and it’s like a clean slate of sorts. It’s your new life sober.  You are doing really well, so well in fact that you don’t think you really need to worry too much about the principles of recovery.

Ivy can be a good thing if those branches reaching out cover up an ugly wall, but they are also a problem, especially certain types of ivy. They can damage the wall, even the foundation upon which its built. They find their way into cracks and crevices, exploiting the weaknesses in the wall.

So if there a bad ivy growing on  your wall?  Did you decide that a principle that kept you sober for the last five years isn’t really that important?  Have you started hanging around with people who abuse drugs and alcohol because you feel you are strong enough to resist? Are you really strong enough to resist?

Bad ivy can manifest itself in many ways, through changes in attitudes – more sullen or resentful – or through changes in behavior – more reclusive and insular. You can always cut back ivy, but unless you get to the roots, it’s tenacious stuff, weaving its way back across your life with little regard for where it goes.

We know when we’re letting bad old thoughts creep back in. We start to feel more impatient. We start to resent our friends and family and employer. We begin to avoid people who aren’t validating our negativity, and we gravitate people who are letting us know it’s ok to hate everything because everything really is an awful mess.

So if this describes your sobriety, maybe its time to dig down deep and figure out what is really going on. Is sobriety still at the top of your list of priorities?

Relapse is always a traumatic and dangerous thing – who’s to say the person will make it back? I’ve always felt I never want to test it – I’d rather not find out that I don’t have another recovery in me!  I have written in the past about a friend who died after years of struggling with relapse (after over 15 years of sobriety).  I recently heard another story – very similar.  The woman married a man with about 10 years of sobriety. He relapsed.  She thought he should go back to AA. He thought he’d learned everything he needed in 10 years and could do it alone.  Needless to say, that didn’t work, and they are now divorcing.

I think the problem that faces people with many years of sobriety who relapse is that they believe things that prevent them from getting on track again. They believe they already know everything because they did it before (clearly they didn’t learn EVERYthing).  They believe the humiliation of saying, “I have one day of sobriety,” is worse than the prospect of deteriorating as an active alcoholic.  They believe if the program or whatever method they used the first time didn’t work, the system failed, so why bother trying it again (blaming someone other than themselves).

Frankly, I think the embarrassment is a big one.  I just say, go to a meeting where no one knows you!  Still, they don’t want to be treated like a newcomer.

This is the equivlaent of saying, after skiing down a mountain, that you don’t want to have to take the lift to the top again. They should just extend the darn mountain! I already lugged myself up there before!  Or someone who has major knee surgery and doesn’t want physical therapy – I’ve been walking since I was 2 – why do I need someone telling me how to walk?!  I mean if you take a class in college and drop out half way through, you don’t get to start in the middle when they offer it the next semester.  Try telling the professor – I already took the first half of the class last year, see you in six weeks!

Whatever obstacles prevent someone from getting help, the most important one to overcome is pride. Pride can stop you from saving your own life.  You don’t have much to be proud about if you’re dead.

Face it: when you are an alcoholic or addict, most of the time the people in your family have a few shortcomings. Grin. I mean, I have rarely met a recovering person who had a story of perfect parents who never drank too much or who just lived these exemplary lives filled with continually good choices, a positive attitude, and an even emotional life.

I remember one time going to dinner with my father – he had decided to get sober when I did because when I told him what was going on he though, “Heck, that sounds a lot like me.” It was pretty cool because it seemed to be making him a less angry, more emotionally available person.  I knew not to hang my sobriety on his – because that’s never a good idea.

Anyway, this was a dinner about three years into my sobriety – and I was down visiting my parents for the holidays. We went to this little Italian restaurant they loved and the waitress came over to take drink orders. I ordered my usual favorite – sparkling mineral water (I just love Perrier – and it’s healthier than soda).  My dad looked up and ordered a beer.  Oh man. You can well imagine what my stomach did at that moment. It literally felt like the floor fell out from under me. I’m sure I turned red.

But what do you do?  It was clear by the way he ordered it that he had been doing it for a while, and my history with my father had been anything but warm and cuddly. I honestly didn’t think I could do anything but bite my tongue.

My father died a couple of years ago due to bile duct cancer. For years he had horrible pains in his gut and would pace the floor all night, unable to sleep.  I always wondered how much alcohol abuse may have contributed to whatever degenerative process that triggered cancer. Who knows.

All I can tell you for sure was that he wasn’t happier drinking again.

OK I said some posts might seem controversial – here goes. I often hear people say the obsession was lifted by God. I am completely and utterly comfortable with people saying this is what occurred for them. However, that explanation, for me, seemed a little too pat.  First a little background: at the age of 6 or 7 I was already questioning my mother on death – where do we go? what happens to our bodies in the grave?  You can imagine how uncomfortable it made her.  So does questioning the absolutes many people in recovery hold so dear.

I do not in any way question the validity of that answer for many successfully recovering people. I just know there are people who are not comfortable with that explanation, and I think it’s only fair to share other ideas on this.

I have a pretty solid belief system surrounding this topic. I think it has more to do with the first step than the second or third.  I am one of those people who has never questioned my need to not drink.  I never had cravings. I’m in my 23rd year of sobriety, and I can be around alcohol without the LEAST desire to drink it.

Why is that the case when so many people either white-knuckle it or struggle during periods of their sobriety with cravings or temptation?  Was the obsession just lifted?

In a way, yes. But I believe this has to do with an utter and complete acceptance of the first step. I fully embraced the belief that I was powerless over alcohol and that when I used it my life was completely unmanageable. I had not one inkling of doubt in my mind that this was the case.  The allure of drinking was negated by the firm embracing of that fundamental belief: drinking alcohol was to me the same as drinking poison.

I am perfectly comfortable with other  “normal” people drinking because I know that for many it’s not poisonous.

I’m also allergic to avocados. I get sick as a dog if I get even the slightest little bit of it. I don’t test it. Why bother? I already know how I react. What am I going to do? Eat avocado to see if I’m still allergic?

I’m not bringing this up to deny anyone else’s reality. I’m bringing it up to help those who struggle with the second and third steps – to assure them that you can stay sober even while struggling with these steps.  You don’t have to become a religious zealot to stay sober.

It’s not in my nature to embrace dogma. My nature is to question dogma. I am not alone. I would not want to see people get drunk just because they struggle with dogmatic principles, but instead, I want them to understand that the key to sobriety is the full acceptance that you just can’t control alcohol’s effect on you. No way. No how.

People start drinking and relapse for many reasons, but I truly believe that under all the reasons (my life is too miserable, I can’t do it,  etc) is a fundamental flaw in thinking: you still believe on some level you can manage and control it.   It’s that belief that has to be destroyed to truly lift the obsession with drinking.