A Stupid Old Man

"Reserving judgements is a matter of infinite hope." -F. Scott Fitzgerald

I have been sober now for nearly 6 years. The first few years of my sobriety were probably the hardest years of my life. I woke up every day believing it was a matter of time before the house of cards would come down in a terrific cascade of grand scale obliteration. I woke up with a feeling of terror every day. I couldn't shake it.

I knew I couldn't complete the process of recovery (the 12 steps of AA), and I knew it was my only hope. I knew the program academically as well as anyone can I suppose, I just couldn't do it. I lacked the courage and integrity requisite to complete the process. I would watch in awe as my fellow sober mates would go through the process, ascend to new heights, and begin leading full lives.

I would go to meetings, and seethe with anger when people would share about their bullshit sobriety. Often times members share about concepts and ideals which are not representative of what our literature touts as the method of recovery. And because I couldn't practice that method, I somehow derived comfort in deriding those who didn't even know about it. The irony was that invariably these fucking dolts who could barely read would manage to somehow complete the process as it's outlined in AA's literature, and then they too would surpass me and come to realize peace, joy, purpose, and freedom.

Then there were the assholes with many years of sobriety who spoke in pedestrian platitudes about shit that simply had nothing to do with the literature. I especially despised these particular fuckers. And the greatest of these was Gus.

Every time he spoke in meetings, he said the same god damn thing, "If you want to stay sober, you have to do three things: 1) Don't drink and go to meetings. If that doesn't work, 2) Don't drink and go to meetings. If THAT doesn't work, 3) Don't drink and go to meetings. If you do this, you'll learn to listen and then you'll listen to learn."

Every time this old fuck shared in a meeting, he said the same god damn thing. I fucking hated him. There's nothing in our primary text about acquiring recovery through meetings goddamnit. You have to fucking DO the fucking steps. Listening doesn't accomplish SHIT.

For some reason, and much to my dismay, Gus took to me and started asking me the same thing every time he saw me: "Are you still hitting yourself in the head with a hammer?"

This was worse than his stupid fucking shares. How on Earth had I ended up in a society of people who were tolerant of such sub-literate bullshit? How did I fucking get here?

I wanted to scream at him - "You stupid old fuck! Do you know ANYTHING about the program of Alcoholics Anonymous? Have you ever even READ the fucking book?"

But of course I didn't. I just bit my lip and dreamed of a day when I would find real meetings where people like him weren't tolerated.

I continued to go to meetings, even though I couldn't do the process of recovery. I would listen to people who had done it and wish I could be them. Why couldn't I be them? They would always talk to Gus when he was there. And I couldn't figure out why these brilliant humans were concerning themselves with such a low-grade human. As far as I could tell, he didn't know shit. He was just a silly old man who everyone kind of tolerated.

"Learn to listen and listen to learn" Bulshit! The only people I wanted to listen to were people who could do something I couldn't do. Listening to them never helped me. It only made me feel like I was trapped in a fail state, forever doomed to be sober but miserable.

I eventually was in so much pain that I stopped talking in meetings. I felt like a hypocrite. I would just sit in there and listen to the bullshit people had to share about their stupid lives. Every now and then someone said something funny. With even less frequency I sometimes heard something remotely germane to the program.

About three years in I started hearing people talking about problems they'd had working the steps of the program. I started talking to them after meetings and found that many of my heroes had encountered the same terror driven trepidation as I in completing the steps. Their stories encouraged me to the point that I began moving forward in the steps. I wasn't necessarily doing anything, I was just opening up to the possibility that I might someday be able to do something. But it was weird. It was as if the steps started doing me, not the other way around. My experience began to dictate my decisions, and my decisions began to create new experiences. I began to feel lighter. I began to have...... hope.

After many, many spiritual experiences, I became convinced that everything was going to be ok. And I exhaled. I woke up one morning, knew everything was going to be ok, and literally exhaled. After a while I came to realize that the whole time I had been torturing myself. I had been so unusually cruel to myself. Everything had always been fine. If only I had known that years before. If only someone could have told me I was okay and didn't need to hurt myself.

I don't know why I stayed in meetings. I don't know why I stopped talking and started listening. But I'm so glad I didn't leave. I'm so glad I started listening.

One day about a year and a half ago, I was in a meeting. Gus got up to share and said the same thing I'd heard him saying for years: "Don't Drink and go to meetings. If that doesn't work, don't drink and go to meetings. If that doesn't work, don't drink and go to meetings. If you do, you'll learn to listen and then you'll listen to learn.

I was almost in tears. I am in tears right now as I type this. The next thing that happened was indescribable. I walked up to Gus after the meeting. I don't know what pushed me through my ego towards him, but whatever it was, it was more powerful than my ego dared to be.

I stood in front of Gus. I couldn't say a word. I was just looking at him. It was then that he smiled and said, "I'm so glad you stopped beating yourself over the head with that hammer."

After that I hoped to see Gus every time I went to a meeting. And every time I saw him, I felt a sense of profound comfort and hope. Gus didn't have to quote the book. He didn't have to go into flowery discourse. All he had to do was talk about what worked for him in the simplest way possible. And to date, he is in the category of the top 5 people who have most profoundly affected me.

Gus' life is a gift. And 5 days ago, that gift was taken away.

I love you Gus. I will always love you. I am so sorry for never telling you I loved you. I hope you knew.

And for the record, Gus was a fucking genius. And I am a stupid old man.