“I didn’t join AA to get into heaven. I joined to get out of hell.”
This is so flipping true.
When I first said, “My name is…” I wasn’t saying, “Jesus heal me!” I didn’t say it anticipating to automatically be admitted to some heavenly heaven. I said it admitting for the first time that I had a problem with alcohol. That drinking on the job wasn’t the best choice. That driving home after that “just one more…” drink wasn’t a good idea.
I was hoping for a world earth side where I didn’t feel the need to make those choices. I was hoping for a world that felt solid instead of shaky. A world I could walk across with confidence instead of waiting for the Next Thing to go wrong.
Please don’t get me wrong. I’ve still made stupid choices since saying, “My name is…” they have just very rarely involved alcohol. Don’t be surprised, I’ve picked up more than one white chip in the past eight years. I am, after all, an alcoholic. But this time it feels different.
This time I’m feeling marginally less trapped in my own head, in my own way. This time I’m actively working with my sponsor. … This time I have a sponsor in action not just a sponsor on paper.
I may not be out of hell yet. There are still serious mental health issues I fight every day. But today I recognize and acknowledge that alcohol wasn’t helping those issues either.
Today I’m not drinking.
Today I’m not in hell.
mydarkestplaces 