Since he got sober and got outside help for his social anxiety, he no longer hides who he is. It just might help someone else
I was hit early in life with the mental illness “stick.” I struggled greatly with social anxiety, especially when I tried to mix with people. As a young boy, my tantrums and weird behavior put my family in awkward situations, to put it mildly. I had few friends and had trouble maintaining relationships. My reading skills were at an early elementary level.
I buried myself in the world of sports, playing anything that involved a ball and some that didn’t. I wasn’t a gifted athlete, but I was able to appear somewhat competitive to my peers. On the field of play I could fit in, but once the game was over, I hightailed it home to avoid having to socialize.
My affliction grew into an ominous fear of people, places and things, a fear that dominated my life. Mental illness was viewed differently in those times compared to now. Everything was hush-hush, and a “he’ll grow out of it” attitude was often voiced.
In my 16th spin around the sun, I discovered alcohol and a solution to my crippling anxiety. Self-medicating with alcohol—and later other things—seemed to be just what I needed to fit in and cope with this cruel world.
Talking to girls without stuttering became possible when I drank. With the aid of alcohol, “mixing with the animals” became fun, and my fears seemed to be subsiding. But it wasn’t long before the progression of my alcoholism quickly grew, and fears once again directed my thinking. I began to make poor decisions. A promising athletic career in my junior year of high school led to a senior year with many unmet expectations because of my increasing alcohol use. Already at the age of 18, I fully qualified for AA membership, but I did not have a desire to stop drinking. I continued on in my alcoholic downward spiral for the next 18 years.
The suffering years I experienced as a boy were nothing compared to the physical and mental torment that was to come in my 20s and 30s. In addition to drinking, I liked to gamble and fight. Now all the benefits I got from alcohol were a thing of the past. I had horrid morning hangovers and was drinking to satisfy a physical craving that led to many more drinks. I would enter the bar thinking I would just have two drinks, but the thought of the third drink overrode any chance of going home to be with my wife and children. Eventually I would pass out. This routine repeated for years. I began to have suicidal thoughts.
Then one rainy Saturday morning, God arranged what I call a true gift when I walked into an AA meeting. I began to listen and identify with the people sharing there. When “How It Works” was read and I heard the words “grave emotional and mental disorders,” I knew I was right where I belonged. I left the meeting with some hope that I had not felt in many years. If it works for all these people, I thought, why not me? I got a sponsor and a home group and began doing the Steps.
For many months I took every possible action to live this program. I went to meetings daily, prayed (on my knees), meditated, read the literature, attended conferences and retreats, and most importantly, began to help others. I got a relationship with God that I never dreamed possible. However I was still struggling at times, making poor decisions and exhibiting antisocial behavior. With the guidance of my sponsor, I began to seek outside help for (what he called) a thinking disorder. He also said that this was Tenth Step work, as I was “continuing to take my inventory.”
Many counselors have listened to my struggles over the years. Some were good, some not so much. Before sobriety, I was prescribed medications that seemed to be nothing more than alcohol in a pill form. But after sobriety, I have been prescribed medications that are designed to help me without getting a buzz or feeling high. This outside help has been beneficial to my recovery, but by no means will it ever replace my life blood, which is clearly AA. “A piece of the puzzle” is the best analogy I’ve heard regarding outside help.
Today my wife and I share a God-given relationship that is truly sublime. I’m able to maintain relationships with family and friends in and out of the program. That was never possible before AA.
The bottom line is: AA has given this drunk a new design for living, using spiritual tools that I never dreamed of possessing. I have also accepted the fact that God created me just the way I am, and that my job is to do the best I can to be kind and loving toward all.
I don’t hide my alcoholism, and I no longer hide my mental illness. Having these burdens removed lets me feel lighter and more able to experience happiness, joy and moments free from mental suffering. If anyone reading this is struggling with grave emotional and mental disorders, please give AA a chance to help you live a life that God put you here to live.