When I first entered the program, I have to admit, that I wanted a number of things:
- I wanted the nightmare to end
- I wanted to erase the events, emotions, and effect of the last few weeks, months, years.
- I wanted to leave the eternal doghouse in my marriage where I would always be wrong and guilty of treachery
- I wanted to put the genie back in the bottle and have everything go back to the way it was
As I think of those early days, I realize that what I was wanting was release from the implications, consequences, and repercussions of my actions and behavior. I know that sounds pretty selfish and egocentric, but that is honestly where my first thoughts went – self-preservation and reputation protection.
After some time in the program, hearing the shares and stories of so many in my same situation, I did notice that my knowledge and interest in what needed to change in my life had changed.
- I wanted my behaviors to change
- I wanted to be successful in ceasing looking at porn, masturbation, and sexual encounters
- I wanted to stop having so many lustful thoughts and desires
This does seem to be a little further in the right direction at least. But even though this seemed to be closer to the acceptance of the problem, it is still looking at the unacceptable behavior as the problem.
And then the real problem showed up. I wasn’t successful. Granted, I enjoyed the benefits of support and sharing in a group, but I still yearned for the pleasure release of ejaculation, the mental soothing of lustful fantasy, the excitement of illicit liaisons. It seemed dichotomous. I think I wanted sobriety, but at the same time I very much wanted my addiction. And I didn’t know how to change that. I didn’t know how to want something different.
You see, I was still fully convinced that by corralling and lassoing the intellect and will and “breaking” them through discipline, I would be able to manage my behaviors by “reforming” these habits and desires.
Time would show that dedicated program behaviors such as reading, journaling, meeting attendance, and phone calls, all did provide a boost to the length of discipline and pushed the habits further away. Which seemed like a form of success. But was it true positive sobriety? I was actively not lusting nor acting out, but is that the same?
I truly believe that most motivated and hard working members that are willing to put in the effort, will get to this point. And some likely are able to maintain this iron grip and will call it long term sobriety. But the haunting question is still, am I still wanting the same things I originally pursued?
If I am honest, when I looked inside, I found that it would take very little to dive back in to the thoughts and pursuits of before. The consequences and implications had been motivation enough to avoid that, but what if circumstances changed? What if the perfect storm of triggers and disasters happened at the same time? Am I truly free and sober if I still fight the specter of wanting those same things?
A sense of panic and terror is how I would describe the thought that eventually settled into my realization. I do not have the ability to change what I want. My will can force my mind and body to make certain choices, but I can’t make myself want something or stop wanting something that I have long pursued.
And then some of the phrases I have heard a thousand times started to make sense:
Until we had been driven to the point of despair, until we really wanted to stop but could not, we did not give ourselves to this program of recovery.
Staying sober is our initial objective; a spiritual awakening is the unintended result. If our experience tells us anything, it is that there is no healing without such an awakening. And the difference between merely not acting out our addiction (being “dry”) and healing is the new life. If we want the old life intact, simply minus the habit, we don’t really want healing, for our sickness is the old way of life. (From Step 12)
“We don’t really want healing.” That thought crushed me. But it seemed like I finally was looking unflinchingly into the mirror and seeing where I truly was. I now knew that I didn’t know how to want what I should want. And even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to execute on that want to do the right thing anyway. It seemed helpless. Hopeless. At least for me. To do on my own. And that is the secret key.
This program of recovery has from the very beginning guided us to turn our lives and wills over to our Higher Power. I think I, like many others, blew past that at first as it didn’t make much sense and seemed mystical and certainly not practical. But here I was, face-to-face with it again. And this time it made sense. I am INCAPABLE of changing my own internal workings. I need to return this beat up model to the manufacturer and get some Authorized Dealer work performed. As the 12th promise says:
We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.
But God isn’t a gumball machine. This is the point where those other concepts I flew past start coming into sharp focus. Acceptance, Surrender, Humility to admit wrong and ask forgiveness. As I ask God daily to work those into my life, it turns out that He is also repairing and restoring aspects of my heart and life that I didn’t even realize were out of alignment or badly damaged.
And then, one day, out of the blue, my wife is noticeably struck by my reaction and words to something that was before us. It seemed that it WASN’T my typical and expected reaction. But it wasn’t the “teeth-clenched, swallow-my-angry-words, force-a-fake-smile” scenario, either. It was something new. But I wasn’t working on that. I could claim no responsibility. And yet I knew exactly where it came from. My wife simply said, “You are not the man I married.” And that is a very good thing.