I was watching some clips of Charlie Sheen last night and I have to say that if you want to see a meltdown, then watch these clips.
I will say Mr. Sheen has major cojones, but I would have to qualify that by noting that he seems to be extraordinarily defended. Mr. Sheen’s bravado seems to be a defense mechanism against a glaringly obvious insecurity. In other words, he appears to me like an egomaniac with low self-esteem.
Actually, he reminds me of me when I was an active addict. In fact, if I had had the fame and money Mr. Sheen has when I was active, I would most likely be dead. And while I wasn’t fucking Denise Richards-caliber starlets, I was just as recklessly promiscuous. In fact, I get kinda turned on thinking about what Mr. Sheen did with Ms. Richards... never mind!
Seriously, I’m not here to pass judgment on Sheen, nor do I think what he’s going through is in any way humorous. In fact, I’m not even calling him an addict. I can’t do that. I do find the clips difficult to watch. However, he’s correct in at least one thing: 12 step fellowships aren’t for everybody. However, if you were to ask me how I got clean, I would have to tell you that the fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous saved my life. My experience also tells me that working the 12 Steps could be beneficial for everyone, regardless of whether they identify as an addict.
-=[ Turning it Over ]=-
Step Three: We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
The first time I came to the fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous, by the time I reached this step, I had quit. This is bullshit! I told myself. Fuck that God shit.
I wasn’t ready for recovery and I spent the next five years, the worst of my life, chasing a bag, a piece of ass -- anything that could get me outside of myself. In a very real way, my addiction was my Higher Power, and at some level I knew this, but I would not kneel before a God I didn’t believe, or religious principles that I saw as intolerant and juvenile.
I didn’t sit still long enough to read the part of the step that says: ... as we understood Him. The second time around, I was desperate to learn and to live more effectively, more wisely. I was more open, but I also knew that I couldn’t pretend to submit to religious dogma and not go back out.
My forced me confront the contradiction of my addictive process: that I felt powerful when in fact, I was powerless and needed help. The First Step gave me hope... However, having internalized and accepted my powerlessness (not to be confused with hopelessness), I was left open and vulnerable, and while I understood my powerlessness, I needed something to latch onto, some form of support.
My helped me come to terms with trust -- at least a little bit and it challenged my feelings of grandiosity, bringing me to the realization that I am a human being, and as such, I am not all-powerful -- the “Great I Am.” It taught me the value of surrendering my small self in favor of my Higher Self. The helped me take a good look at faith and it helped me begin my spiritual search anew with fresh eyes. In fact, I see my entire history of active addiction as a spiritual search gone wrong. Recovery was a matter of turning that mad search into something sane and good.
In the beginning, I was able to accept the collective consciousness of the fellowship of NA as my Higher Power, but as I continued to work the steps in my life, I came upon the teachings of Buddhism (The Dharma) and I accepted them as my Higher Power. In Buddhism, I found a Higher Power that could restore me to sanity.
In NA, there are no “shalts,” nothing is forced down our throats and everyone works the steps to the best of their abilities and at their own pace. The first three steps serve as a foundation, a bridge, back to life. It’s not about belief, but about practice. Believing is not enough; it is through living and applying the steps that we recover our Original Self. I think what’s most important for anyone, is maintaining a frame of mind described by Zen masters as “beginner’s mind.” In the mind of an expert, it is said, there are few possibilities. But in the mind of a beginner, everything is possible.
Let me add that I as I have progressed spiritually, I have come to realize that bridge back to life was made from the bones of those who came before me. many of whom never got clean, never tasted spiritual freedom...
Truly, change and recovery are about coming back to a state where we’re open to suggestions and looking at life with fresh eyes. It’s about dropping the mess and listening to the message. If you’re like me and many others, there are issues that have tested you sorely. Whether it is drugs, sex, relationships, your emotions, food, or other people, we all have found ourselves at our wit’s end at one time or another. The Third Step is about letting be, as the Taoists put it.
One thing I was painfully aware of was that whenever I imposed my will, things got messed up quick. If I was in a relationship, my will meant lot’s of insanity. Imposing my will on my addiction meant that it made it worse because my will was warped. So recovery (and the Third Step) is a lot about letting go of the impulsive need to control. It’s about allowing a Higher Principle, Higher Power, or God -- or whatever you choose to call it -- guide your actions.
For me, that Higher Power as I understand it, is The Dharma. In other words, instead of exerting my will on my addictive behaviors, I was letting go in favor of a set of spiritual principles that emphasized ethical behavior, contemplation, and cognitive restructuring. Rather than chasing a bag, or the delusional grasp for happiness through destructive behavior, I was instead flowing into a spiritual practice that guided me toward a saner way of life. For my purposes, I do not believe in an Abrahamic God, but I am an addict in recovery.
My experience teaches me that when I’m less reactive and defensive, life becomes less stressful and simpler. The truth of the matter is that I’m constantly taking my will back. I become a backseat driver to my life and demand to make a left turn, when my Higher Power (as I understand It) is telling me to make a right. There are times I’m downright nasty about it and I take the wheel and “all of sudden” there I am, ass out on Broadway. In my early recovery I would take my will back on an hourly basis. I had the good fortune to have someone explain to me that recovery (and life) is really about practice not perfection. The point is if we’re to evolve, then letting go becomes a way of life. These principles are guidelines to progress. The issue isn’t spiritual perfection, but spiritual practice. No one, my guide told me, gets this perfectly.
Whatever your understanding of your Higher Power, it is suggested that it be a loving and understanding. For me this means living a life of non-harming, of skillful speech and action. If I can turn my life over to that Higher Power, then I’m released from the bondage of my smaller, ego-driven self. For some this can mean throwing away the concept of an angry and jealous God for one that is loving, accepting, and compassionate. It could mean an understanding of God that resides within, instead of the concept of a God-in-the-sky. Perhaps the Universal Principle is a stream flowing through all of us. Maybe my Higher Power, rather than being an old white guy with a beard can look like Halle Berry, instead. Who’s to say? LOL! What’s important, in this spirituality, is that your Higher Power be loving and trustworthy.
Most importantly, this step is all about coming to terms with trust. It is really about learning acceptance, of letting go the compulsive need for control. In my active addiction, I was more concerned with control than about relationships. Lack of trust, my friends, is really about control. If you don’t trust someone, then you’re trying to control that person. In other words, lack of trust is the impulse to control because if you can’t trust another, you want to do everything yourself. And how has that worked so far?
This is for you, whoever you are. Take what is useful. but this is mostly for the still sick and suffering addict out there all alone thinking there’s no way out, or defending a madness slowly killing him or her.
My name is Eddie and I am an addict in recovery...