Types of Sponsors

[honeydumplin]

Thank you two for these posts about sponsorship.
I really enjoy the topic. I've been blessed to
have a couple of great sponsors, and even though
it isn't a prerequisite, have actually became close
friends.

I went through an outpatient program, and the counselors there were persistent in asking us if we'd found a sponsor yet. Back then it all seemed like such a big deal to ask a guy if he'd sponsor me. I felt so damaged, so dirty. There was this huge wall around me, and I was determined not to let anyone inside it. Armed with a rather vague idea of sharing in the least of what was going on behind that wall was enough to fill me with terror. The fear of asking, along with the fear of being turned down, continued to scare me.

One man that I'd befriended while attending this rehabilitation program, had found a sponsor, and was already working the steps of AA like he was double-parked in the handicap space. I resented him for it, and wondered just who he thought he was catching fire like this when I was still fumbling around, scared to find a sponsor. The whole ordeal was nothing short of false alcoholic pride that was trying to kill me. I was looking directly at it, and had no idea what it was.

I've got two brothers-in-law that could, if they ever
reached the point of powerlessness, definitely qualify
as alcoholic, and an alcoholic father who quit cold turkey,
never having taken one step, much less 12 to a recovery
program. He used to take me in beer joints when I was
a kid and I'd play pinball and drink soda, while he drank.
And his brother was one of those guys who sat and crid
on a park bench outside of a treatment center while saying
that he just couldn't do it. Maybe he didn't want to.
Maybe he was too far away to consider giving up.
In either case, he was dead within a year.

A guy that I was sponsoring went back out a few weeks
ago. It was the second time this had happened in the past
year. We'd scheduled meeting each other an hour before
the meeting, and one night he didn't show. I learned about
his getting drunk again from one of the others. He was
going through d.t.'s at a local hospital. I had to immediately
work through all of the guilt of somehow being “responsible”
for this guy doing this. I prayed. I talked to my sponsor
about it. This is the only way I know how to get through
stuff like this. AA is what keeps me sober during this
thing we call life. It was a process. I had to let go.
And sure enough, after a few days, it was over.

This guy and I, ran into one another at the meeting last night.
It was hard not to say something that I would have regretted.
His mantra this time was that he had to move forward,
that he was of the opinion that familiarity breeded contempt,
and that he probably needed to find somebody that didn't
attend that particular group. I wished him the best, but
like refusing to doing any of the work, it simply sounded
similar to another excuse, but he'll eventually figure it out.
If he doesn't end up dead beforehand.

My point though, is not to wallow in the past. I guess
what I want to emphasize is the fact that alcoholism,
in its rawest of forms has one mission; and that is to
kill me. It doesn't care how old I am, who my friends are,
or what kind of rehab I've gone through, and certainly
not my family history.

Men and women in recovery, no matter how much
time they have, are recovering drunks, finding their place
in the world as recovering people. And getting beyond the
idea that I am somehow unique to the rest of the lot,
in many ways, opens the door to the possibility of living
as a sober individual. The only obstacles that detour the
journey, are the ones that I've placed in the way. It can be
the sponsor, or lack thereof, or the meetings, or lack thereof.
It might be simply attending meetings, and yet refusing
to work the steps.

My alcoholism doesn't give a hoot how much time I have.
The time that those people in that room have doesn't matter
much either. I saw a guy with 27 years, who attended
meetings regularly, go back out last year. The reason?
Well, for one thing, he's an alcoholic, and that's what we do.
But the main explanation he had, was that his spiritual
condition had never been a priority. Maybe daily prayer
didn't mean that much to him. But it is a message that
should speak volumes to anyone who considers how
paramount it is to incorporate the 12-steps in the
maintenance of long-term sobriety.

And that's what the man did that first sponsored me. I'd been
watching him share in the meetings. He hadn't had a drink in
a long time, and I could see and feel the serenity when I was
around him. So, when I finally got the nerve to ask him if he
would sponsor, you can imagine the surprise when he replied,
that he didn't sponsor people. I also said that he didn't believe
in “pigeons”, which is a term that is slowly vanishing.

I said, “Well, okay then.”

But he caught me completely off guard when he quickly
followed up saying, “But I'll be more than happy to walk
through the steps with you.”

It was music to my ears. Why now I could tell those
pestering IOP people that I'd found a sponsor, and also
actually start working on some sort of recovery from
alcoholism. This man would me at coffee shops,
and we'd talk for hours in conversations primarily
focused on just that — recovery from alcoholism,
and yes, going through the steps. He was the guy
that answered the telephone when I'd used the
last two quarters I had to my name the day after my last
crack binge. He invited me over for coffee. Something
that not just everyone would have done.

And after the in-patient, or out-patient rehabilitation process,
after the shakes, the physical withdrawals, all that is really left,
is honestly working the steps. If nothing else, it broke up the
vicious cycle, messing it up enough to see what recovery looked
like in other peope, but allowing me to see what staying drunk
was doing to me. Getting loaded in any form was never the same
afterward. It is a continued daily, and sometimes rocky path
towards allowing myself to possibly fit in, with the human race.

So much of it entails unity. Not just with other recovering
people, but with everyone. Family, co-workers, and people
along the way. If I concede that I am special, then my
sobriety is in jeopardy, before it ever starts. Only in shining
the light of the 12-steps on alcoholism with another alcoholic,
am I able to recognize that. Sponsorship, both giving and
receiving, has a way of removing my ego. Something that
can't be done alone.

Thanks for letting me share.