We all need serenity and wisdom

A dear friend of mine told me this week that he is an alcoholic. I love him so much, and I desperately want to support him, but I have to say I think the way he is handling things is all wrong.

He has tried to break his addiction by withdrawing from everyone who loves and cares for him. He lives his life in fear that one sip will destroy him. But in fact, he is living a half life, turning away from any situation which might make him confront his addiction.

He buries himself in work. He has given up all of the small pleasures he used to enjoy – friendships, hobbies, socialising, even his best friend, in a bid to avoid his addiction. Maybe he thinks he is happy that way, but I don’t believe that. I think it’s a skewed survival mechanism kicking in. Fight or flight. And he has chosen flight.

He won’t talk to me about it – one of his best friends, the one person who always took him at face value, loved him for what he was and never expecting anything from him but to be loved in return.

I want to tell him that the only way he will get through this is to fight, to face his addiction head on, own it and confront it and learn to live with it. And I want to tell him that love isn’t an addiction, it’s a blessing. Love is what helps you to survive. There is no shame in leaning on those who love you, taking comfort from them. There is no shame in needing someone.

You can’t avoid temptation forever, you have to go out into the world and live.

For many alcoholics, the organisation Alcoholics Anonymous is the lifeline that allows them to rejoin the world of the living, to embrace life and cope with the stresses and temptations that life brings them.

Founded in 1935, AA has a membership of more than 2 million. Through a network of friends and supporters, the alcoholic knows that they are never alone, that someone is always there at the end of a phone waiting to ta lk them through a moment of weakness. By operating the sponsor system, the alcoholic always has access to someone who understands things from the inside, who has similar experiences.

An important part of the ethos of this organisation is to own up to your addiction. Regular meetings allow members to tell their story and hear the stories of others, to realise that they are not alone, and importantly, to hear from people who have survived and rebuilt their lives.

Sometimes an alcoholic has to hit rock bottom before they are able to admit their problem and go to AA. It can be very hard to watch those you love going through such pain, but deciding to get help is something very personal, something only the drinker themselves can do.

As much as we love them, friends of addicts can’t force them to accept our help. We have to give them time and space to come to their own conclusions, make their own decisions about how they want to live their lives, and this can be very hard for us to cope with.

Of course, AA isn’t for everyone. Part of the AA twelve step plan for recovery is accepting that there is a higher power and turning one’s life over to God. These are parts which might not sit well with the agnostic or the atheist, but when your life is at its lowest ebb, I think anything is worth a go. After all, the AA offers support, not brainwashing.

I want to end by quoting the Serenity Prayer, which has been adpoted as the traditional end to AA meetings. You don’t have to look at it as a “prayer” if you don’t want to, and you could miss out the word “God” if it offends you. Look at it as a tremendous piece of wisdom, a life lesson that could apply to all of us, not just the alcoholic.

God, grant me the serenity to accept
the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can
and wisdom to know the difference.

Recently I've found the courage to change the things I can, but I'm still trying to find the serenity to accept the things I can't. I think I do know the difference, but it's the acceptance that's the hardest part.

dooyoo