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"Maybe
I Can Do It Too"-Reader's Digest, November 1944 |
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ALCOHOLISM – Is there a cure?
by Stewart Robertson
“NO,”
SAYS ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, “THERE IS NOT” –
BUT THIS VOLUNTARY, NONPROFIT, NO-DUES GROUP OF EX-ALCOHOLICS
HAS PUT AND KEPT THOUSANDS ON THE WATER WAGON
Every
year at this time the alcoholic resolves to quit drinking.
The best resolve he could make this year would be to join
Alcoholics Anonymous. Having all been alcoholics themselves,
these men and women are the best possible ones to help anyone
who wants to control his drinking but can’t do it
alone. They will send information to anyone free of charge.
Address Alcoholics Anonymous, Box 459, Grand Central Annex,
New York 17, New York
Alcoholism
is not a “failing” – it is a dread disease.
The person branded an alcoholic is at grips with a killer
as deadly as cancer or coronary thrombosis. He is not just
a social menace; he is desperately ill.
The alcoholic can be turned into a sane and sober citizen,
and often the best one to show him the way to reformation
is not a relative, doctor, or clergyman – it is an
ex-alcoholic!
In case you don’t agree with any of these statements,
perhaps you had better read them over again before going
on to learn of Alcoholics Anonymous, the organization that
knows how to lick the problem facing the drunkard. For the
statements are true, if we are to believe the medical profession
and the more than 12,000 members of Alcoholics Anonymous
who are once more leading decent, self-respecting, useful
lives in more than 365 cities. In fact, there is no sensible
argument against them. Salvation, conversion, reclamation
– call it whatever you like, the AA system gets results.
There are no potions to be slipped into one’s coffee,
no electric shocks, no preaching, and likewise no bullying.
It is a new departure, but its fundamentals are as old as
man. It is beautifully simple, yet it has something of an
eternal mystery. It works.
Alcoholics Anonymous got its start when a New York broker
known as Bill met an Akron, Ohio physician we shall call
Doc. The New Yorker’s drinking habits had severely
handicapped his career, but he had been firmly aboard the
water wagon for five months when he visited Akron in an
attempt to swing a deal that would put him back on his financial
feet. The deal fell through and the frustrated Bill, alone
and unhappy in a strange city, felt the need of a bracer.
In other words, a stiff drink of liquor. But knowing that
the first drink would only be the cornerstone of a prolonged
debauch, Bill fought down the temptation. Back in New York
he had found that his greatest help in keeping sober was
to talk to other alcoholics under treatment in the hospital
where he had been “de-fogged” during his last
hangover. He felt that if he could give similar assistance
in Akron, he would be safe. So, selecting the name of a
clergyman from a church directory in the hotel lobby, he
telephoned to ask whether the minister knew of an alcoholic
who wanted help. The minister sent him to Doc, a confirmed
alcoholic now shaken and remorseful after a terrific bender.
Bill worked earnestly on his new friend and won him over
to his method of rehabilitation. Then Bill went to live
at doc’s home, and both men began to wrestle with
other alcoholics. They had some success, some failure. The
upshot was that Doc, aided by a faithful and heroic wife,
turned his home into a small asylum for alcoholics who wanted
to be straightened out but had lost the will power to do
it themselves. Bill went back to New York, and as he was
also married to a brave and patient woman, he was able to
do the same thing with his house. In four years Bill and
Doc between them guided about 100 alcoholics to dry ground,
and soon afterward the subjects told the world about their
recovery program and personal histories in a book called
“Alcoholics Anonymous,” a title that was passed
on to the movement which, up to then, had not been christened.
Today, five years later, the book has gone through five
successively enlarged editions and is greatly responsible
for the growth of membership both here and in Canada.
The AA program has 12 steps that may be summarized as follows:
1.
The alcoholic must truly want to be delivered from his problem
and admit that he has no control over his drinking.
2.
He should believe that a power greater then himself could
restore him to sanity.
3.
He should decide to turn over his will and his life to God,
as he understands Him. He should depend upon his concept
of a higher power to strengthen and sustain him and, through
prayer and meditation, improve his contact with God and
the power to carry out His will.
4. He should make a searching and fearless inventory of
himself and admit to God, to himself, and to another human
being the full extent of his shortcomings and the wrongs
he has done. He should make a list of all persons he has
harmed and be willing to make direct amends to them wherever
possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.
5.
He should use his newly found knowledge and power to help
other alcoholics.
As
you can imagine, this is simple in outline but not easy
to fullfill without a struggle, for the alcoholic is a person
of many illusions. One is that someday he will have the
whip hand over his drinking – not stop it, mind you
– but he will ration himself strictly and imbibe like
a gentleman. Another is that by swearing off for a stated
period he will be more self-controlled when he starts drinking
again. Still another excuse is that he can drink only beer
and thus stay away from hard liquor. None of these fallacies
impress the particular AA’s who have undertaken to
help an alcoholic stop drinking, and they tell him so, giving
their own experience as a basis.
“We
know how it is, say the AAs, and the alcoholic grows interested
in these men who understand his problem. The alcoholic is
nearly always callous to the pleas of family, friends, and
minister because such appeals are voiced too emotionally,
although he may have maudlin spells of vowing to reform.
But he can be won over by plain talk from ex-alcoholics.
“We know what it’s like to wait in agony for
a saloon to open,” continued the AAs, “to hide
liquor in half a dozen places in the house, to wake up in
a strange room or even a strange town and wonder how you
got there. We know what it means to steal money from your
wife’s purse, to haggle in pawnshops, to have your
wife get herself a job in order to pay the rent. And we,
too, have thought of jumping from a high window or blowing
out our brains.”
The alcoholic listens with amazement as his new friends
describe some of their old escapades, and he realizes that
his own adventures were trifling compared to the purple
binges confessed to by the very men who are trying to help
him. He is told that because he is allergic to alcohol he
is poisoned by it, and that the way to stop drinking is
to cut it off entirely – because once an alcoholic,
always an alcoholic. The AAs know that their man’s
knowledge of his condition is never enough to make him stop
drinking for good. “We know that you lack the proper
means of defense against your enemy,” they tell him,
“so your help must come from a higher power. Why not
try God?
Here
is the stumbling block that appalls many an alcoholic, for,
as the secretary of the Alcoholic Foundation explained to
me, more than 50% of their members professed to be agnostics,
atheists, or backsliders from some church. "I don't
believe there is a God," runs the familiar plaint,
" or why would he let me get into such a mess?”
The AAs are not affronted when they hear this; in fact,
they expect it, because they are aware of two things. First,
most alcoholics possess a defiant individuality, and second,
they resent the idea of God because they themselves cherish
a feeling of omnipotence. Therefore, the AAs do not laugh
when some weak, drink-ridden soul protests that he is too
sane and honest to believe all that old-fashioned stuff
about God.
They counter by asking whether the alcoholic doesn’t
believe there is a greater power in the universe than himself.
“Why of course,” the patient says in substance.
“I don’t know what it is, but I believe there
is some sort of great plan that directs the universe.”
“All
right then,” say the AAs, “why not use your
own conception of God?” To most of the alcoholics
this seems to be an exceedingly brilliant proposal, and
men who rebel at the word “God” put their faith
in a Creative Intelligence, Supreme Being, Universal Mind,
or Spirit of Nature. For some men and women God is the ocean
and the stars, in a symphony or picture, on the mountains
or in a book. And some believe they have found their conception
of God in Alcoholics Anonymous. With no religious ax to
grind, any conception that will bring results is all right
with the AAs.
Remember…..
·
A man who drinks now and then usually drinks more now than
he did then.
·
Alcohol doesn’t pick you up; it lets you down
·
Alcoholism is a disease – not a “failing.”
The alcoholic is a sick man and should be treated as one.
Ignoring him, abusing him, or treating him with scorn, contempt,
or ridicule will neither cure nor help him.
In
some cases the new man ducks the idea of God or a substitute
and tries to right himself by being honest, tolerant, and
helpful toward other alcoholics. An AA member asked me to
report that it is their experience everywhere that faith
always comes to those who try this simple approach with
an open mind – and in the meantime they stay sober.
But those who actively deny the spiritual content in the
program seldom remain dry. AA stresses the spiritual because
thousands of its members have found they cannot succeed
without it.
The achievement of a fresh understanding with friends, creditors,
and even enemies is as severe a wrench to the alcoholic’s
pride as it would be to the rest of us. Yet the fact remains
that when the patient goes through with this part of the
program he feels like a new man. It may involve reconciliation
with wife and children, often a slow process not gained
by promises but by performance over a long pull. This is
a matter for the alcoholic to struggle with alone, but when
it comes to more prosaic adjustments with creditors, there
have been cases where AAs gambled on their choice by advancing
him the money to settle his debts. There was never an alcoholic
who didn’t manage to get his social and business relationships
into hopeless confusion, and AAs claim the disentangling
process can only be made possible and bearable through faith.
When the alcoholic is in the clear, confident and happy
in his new strength, he is reminded that faith without works
is dead. This mental nudge is scarcely needed, for the now
ex-alcoholic is eager to do missionary work among those
still trapped by the allure of liquor. He realizes that
alcoholism has brought more sorrow to the human race than
any other agency, for its destruction is neither merciful
nor swift. He understands that liquor breaks down not only
the physical man, but so relentlessly sabotages the will
that a self-starting cure is almost impossible. He knows
that no amount of adversity will permanently divert the
alcoholic to sobriety. He understands that the patient will
have to fight not only himself but many of his drinking
companions whose tender hearts will impel them to smuggle
a flask to their battling comrade.
He stands ready to answer the call of an alcoholic at any
time, even at three o’clock in the morning, and often
does just that. And being a recovered alcoholic, he will
be free from the misguided passion of the nondrinker who
tries to thrust abstinence on a sinner.
You
can understand why this sort of co-operation has caused
Alcoholics Anonymous to become known to more than 12,000
people in urgent need of rescue. Do they never fail? Being
human, yes, they do. AA estimates that 50% of the patients
stop drinking almost at once, many after reading “alcoholics
Anonymous” and without requiring further aid; 25%
win through after one or two relapses; the other 25% are
frankly doubtful cases. Never do the AAs regard themselves
as “cured” but they do become total abstainers
from liquor. Some of them may shudder at being “saved,”
but that is, of course, what really happens. And with an
estimated 300,000 alcoholics in the country, there is plenty
of saving yet to be done. The term “alcoholic”
does not apply to the millions of moderate drinkers or even
to those who go on occasional benders; it relates only to
the problem drinkers who are men overboard and about to
go under.
Alcoholics Anonymous and its Foundation take no stand on
the liquor question. They are neither wet nor dry, but their
purpose for existence leaves no doubt. If you know of an
alcoholic who might be helped by their recovery program,
AA will tell you if there is a member in your town and where
he can be reached. If an eligible person wants to start
a chapter, AA will tell him how to go about establishing
it, but after that the unit will be on its own. There are
no dues, fees, or assessments in Alcoholics Anonymous, and
the chief requisite for membership is an earnest desire
to stop drinking. And should you want a copy of “Alcoholics
Anonymous” which is packed with clearly worded helpfulness
buttressed by dramatic case histories, either to give to
a friend in despair or to read yourself for its impact as
a human document, AA will send it to you direct for $3.50.
For an answer to any question you may have about AA, write
a letter to Alcoholics Anonymous, Box 459, Grand Central
Annex, New York 17, New York. In case you order the book,
make your check or money order payable to Works Publishing,
Inc., at the same address. Literature is sent free with
answers to all inquiries.
Alcoholics
Anonymous is not an aggregation of saints. Its members are
people who have regained their footing in a precarious world
hitherto unable to help them, and they have learned how
to live happily, usefully, and without fear. No AA need
ever be lonesome, for the members are friends held together
by an unusual bond, and being largely gregarious, they lunch,
play cards, bowl, swim, and talk in groups. Members of many
units have chipped in to provide a clubroom. And don’t
get the idea that they become hermits who shun the sight
of liquor. It isn't uncommon for AAs to stand at a bar and
drink ginger ale; they would no more order a whisky and
soda than you would call for a glass of carbolic acid. The
comeback road is a tough one, and as in any other trial,
the old saying holds true, “Only the game fish swim
upstream.”
Perhaps you’d like to pass on this message from one
of the two founders of Alcoholics Anonymous: “If you
think you are an atheist, an agnostic, a skeptic, or have
any other form of intellectual pride that keeps you from
accepting what AA has to offer, I feel sorry for you. If
you still feel you are strong enough to beat the game alone,
that is your affair. But if you really want to quit drinking
liquor for good and all, and sincerely feel that you must
have some help, we know that we have an answer for you.
It never fails if you go about it with one half the zeal
you have been in the habit of showing when getting another
drink.”
(Source:
The Family Circle, January 5, 1945)
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