“Not Me” Thinking? Try Thinking Again

My boss. I’ve written about her here before. To recap, she’s more controlling than the channel changer. She’s obsessive to the point her lips are in a permanent shrivel from concentrating on her own perfection. She never, by the grace of God, had kids. She said she didn’t want them but you’d never know it by the way she treats us. I had more freedom when I was three than I do in her employ. I don’t think she’s ever been wrong (by her calculations) in her life.

That being said, one of the downfalls of AA is I don’t get to be right anymore. I don’t have that cat-on-a-shelf luxury of moral superiority over the masses of wrongdoers in this world. Damn! I miss that.

Do you have any idea what these people, who are trying to share a spiritual way of living with me, expect me to do??!! Why, they actually instruct me to look at myself and my part in any conflict I face. WHAAAAAAAAAAT????!!! Surely, they must be joking. But they’re not. And only one of their names is Shirley.

My sponsor’s sponsor (that’s how bad off I am) told me when I feel a negative response to someone’s behavior, I need to “quiet the disturbance” within myself. I like that. The phrase itself brings me instant comfort. Then I need to ask myself what threat comes to me from this person’s actions. In other words, why am I afraid? Usually, she said, it’s self esteem. Well, I scoff at that because my self esteem was MUCH better when I was still permitted to view myself as the chosen one. These horrid AA people took that away from me. Seriously, though, she’s so right.

Figuring out I drank too much wasn’t difficult math. Four jugs, not bottles, of wine a week and a daily hangover is a pretty sure sign. What I didn’t know about were the “isms.” I was so excited and amazed when I went into the program and identified (key word) with the other people there. They described themselves and I saw me. I saw me the way I was before I ever took a drink. Self-centered, ego driven, fear driven, devoid of self esteem and pathologically needing to be right. That last one still trips me up on a fairly daily basis.

I’ve been hearing the “we can’t be disturbed unless we’re disturbable” line from the Big Book for nine months now. But, somehow, I was convinced in this conflict with my boss there was NO possible way I could twist this around to reflect my character defects. Wrong again. This calm, experienced “grandsponsor” gently showed me how I own this. If it angers me, it’s mine. Why it’s mine is what I must search inside to find out. Stupid honesty!! God, that’s been a tough one. I had an Abe Lincoln complex that wouldn’t quit until this little life altering trip to the movies. I was far from honest.

The great thing about this way of life is anyone can adopt the principles. My non-alcoholic friends contantly say they wish they could join AA because they love the philosophies and the sayings. This is all very old, very basic stuff and not invented by recovering alcoholics. The founders just happened to pick the best of the best spiritual stuff out there and it works. I just happen to be hard headed enough that I had to find it this way. Lucky me! And I mean that sincerely.

I used to drink over other people’s actions. I’d drink and think and dwell in hell over what people thought about me and I’d have raging conversations with them in my head, rehearsed so well that it was a shame not to actually put on a live performance. So, I’d do that too. Can’t tell you how much better that made me feel. That was always worth another bottle and a river of self-righteous tears.

Is my boss still a wrought up bundle of nerves? Yes, poor thing, she is. But that doesn’t mean she has to get on mine. My job (literally) is to kindly turn away from her and look at myself. If I’m thinking about my part in any given situation, I can’t be looking at hers. That in itself will provide relief. If I learn what my real disturbance is tied to, I can probably untie it and let it go. It might not happen right away but, so far, doing what these people and principles suggest hasn’t been the wrong thing–not once.

So, next week, when she stands by my desk shrieking and waving some not very important piece of paper, like it’s the last copy of the Constitution, or when I catch her pawing through my mail, like she’s revisiting Watergate, I’ll pause. I’ll turn inward and ask myself what fear is this generating in me? What fear is giving way to anger and why? Then I’ll ask for it to be removed. By now, I’ve been around this way of thinking long enough to know it will be. And that’s worth the price of admission.