Step 1 – Peter M. – 12 Step House Tuesday Night Step Group – 2026

My name is Peter, Recovered Alcoholic. I'm grateful to be alive and sober and part of a sacred place called Alcoholics Anonymous. Thank you, Jim, for reaching out and the group for having me back here. I get to share with you my experience, strength, and hope with Alcoholics Anonymous, this sacred fellowship I walked into in 1988, the program I found inside this fellowship, and the service I get asked to do, and hopefully at some point talk about the men who have helped me along the way, the women who have helped me along the way, whether they were sponsoring or just part of this sacred fellowship. I'll say on the front end, if I had a prayer for everyone over the next 12 weeks, it would be that you get to experience the sacredness of Alcoholics Anonymous, that you stuck around long enough to experience that, to see, and hear lives get reborn and resurrected in here for fun and for free. We don't care what political party you belong to, what color you are, what religion, we really don't care. We're not interested. And if you want to stop drinking, it's our business and we can help you. And it's a great way of living, and I'm very grateful to be a part of it. The longer I'm sober, the older I'm getting. I find my point of view on a lot of things have changed over the years, and finding myself especially grateful for relationships, starting with God, other people, trying to be rid of harboring any grudges towards people, the sacredness of recovery, the spiritual walk I get asked to do, and I get to participate in all of that. And it's vastly different from when I got here. June 23, 1988 is when 11 gods separated me from alcohol. I'm very grateful for this. I do have a sponsor. His name is Bob Azan out of St. Paul, Minnesota. And I have a home group in Boca Raton. It's called No Problems, Just Solutions. It's my favorite, one of my favorite places to be, certainly on a Wednesday night. We meet at 730. It's a little big book study. We're there really early, and we don't head for the parking lot when it's over. And I get to hear the soul music of us before the meeting, like you guys were going on tonight with the talking and the cutting up and the funny stuff and the serious stuff. It's AA soul music, and it's just a great thing to be a part of. And forgive my voice and the bloodshot eyes. I didn't smoke weed before I got here. I'm trying to shake this thing. I'm on the back end of it now, but I think it has other intentions, trying to get me back in bed. So forgive me. And I have no idea how much is in the tank tonight, so we'll see where God takes us. June 23 of 1988, my separation from alcohol was after going into my seven treatment center. I'm from. Up north in New York. You can tell I'm not from Oklahoma by the way I talk. I come from an Italian American family. The way we speak, it's loud and obnoxious. In fact, when we say I love you, it sounds like a threat. Very interesting crew. But in 1988, I have six treatment centers behind me. I had made it to AA meetings maybe a handful of times, no more than that. But every time I walked into an AA meeting, I was very drunk. And I would stand in the back. I do remember one time vaguely raising, vaguely remember raising my hand and sharing, but I was critiquing everyone in the room, how they basically didn't have a life. And people threw phone numbers at me. It was before the cell phone days. And I left. And I just said, keep coming back. And that's about my best day in Alcoholics Anonymous prior to 1990. 1988. And the trapdoors have trapdoors and it was about to get worse. And I will tell you many times, I made a firm resolution not to drink again. I had a powerful desire not to drink again. I'm not going to do it again. I'll change and control and regulate. And I always wound up at the bottom of the ditch all the time. So in 1988, what happens to me, as I said, with six treatment centers, I have a history of doing non-conference approved dry goods. We can talk about that after the meeting. And at the end, alcohol and pills owned my life. I wind up homeless. And at this point in my journey, my family, who would have taken a bullet for me for a long time, wanted nothing to do with me. I remember my dad, I was sitting in his car and he said to me, don't come home. Don't call any of your brothers. Don't call the family. We're done. If you want to get better, I'll help you. But other than that, we're done. And I hated him. I hated him for saying that. And I was about to hit him up for 20 bucks after that. Addicts and alcoholists have no shame. And I left and I was just furious and mumbling under my breath. How could he do that to me? And we live life forward and understand that backwards is one of those good things that happened. Although I couldn't see it at the time, that kind of what we talk about raised the bottom. It enhanced the consequences of my using where there was no one else to blame for a long time. I had to really take a look at the man in the mirror and realize that's the problem. And it wasn't that alcohol was, I mean, it was a problem. I can't drink safely, but my alcoholism doesn't come in a bottle of whiskey. I never picked up the first drink drunk. I would leave treatment stone cold, sober and go right back to that, which is killing me. And when I was in treatment, I was planning the next junk. There was something wrong with me, not the world out there, not the way I was brought up, not with all the other stuff, although they were bad. There were a lot of things that happened to me, but it's me. He kept going back to a drink and I couldn't stop it. And so I wind up homeless in 1988. And guys, I don't know how to do homeless at this point. I'm not the toughest guy in the bar. I wasn't a violent drunk. I didn't carry weapons. I was really in serious trouble. I don't know how to do the streets. I'm petrified. I'm weighing 130 pounds at this point. I mean, I can't fight my way out of a paper bag. I have hepatitis C, which is bad. It's making me incredibly weak and feeble. And I'm dying of alcoholism. And I didn't even realize what I was going through after six treatment centers. But I do remember right before I got sober, it was June up in New York. And it tends to get hot and muggy up there around that time of year. And I have this turtleneck on and I got this black zip-up jacket. And I got these bloodstained soil pants on. They were heavy pants and these construction boots. And the right boot was missing a front. And I'm cold. And I'm cold and sweating at the same time. I got like the chills, but I'm sweating. And I don't know what's wrong. I think I have the flu, but I'm actually going through withdrawal. I didn't know any of this. With six treatment centers behind me, I don't even know what withdrawal is. More importantly, what I was walking around with at this point was hate for everything and everyone. I'm a cradle Catholic and I despise God. I wanted nothing to do with God. I looked at scats that many people claim to be godly. I had contempt. I looked for God. I remember laying in the park one time, literally on a park bench, and the Bible beaters came in. And I told them, and I can't repeat here what I said to them and what they can do with their Bible. If there was a God, what am I doing on a park bench? I was never an atheist, but I didn't like God. I thought he was cruel and unjust. I hated me most of all. And no matter how much alcohol I put into my body, it got to a point where it stopped working. I wasn't getting nice anymore. I wasn't getting drunk or high. In fact, all the pills I ate weren't even working anymore. I couldn't kill myself because I tried that. I can't get sober because I tried that. And now I can't get drunk because I'm trying that. And none of it's working. I'm hit with the trifecta. What way to get out? And I'd linger on the street. Our big book says to drink is to die. That's scary. But what really scared me was thinking that I may not die right away. That would be a freedom. It would be lingering for a long time. Doing this shuffle. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out. To the point where people are sick of seeing you relapsing. And the money runs out. And the insurance runs out. And you're an unwelcome person. And I'm in the street. And I couldn't do that. So I didn't know what the heck I was going to do. After six treatment centers, I'm not really clear on what makes me an alcoholic. After six treatment centers, I'm still unclear on how deep the roots to alcoholism go. That I suffer from alcoholism. While I'm sober making AA meetings. That I can die from alcoholism without ever putting a drink in me. You know, one day God's going to call me home. It's a hope. It's a long time from now. Because I'm having a blast doing this. But when that day comes, let me die with alcoholism rather than from alcoholism. It's two different lives. It's interesting. When I'm treating the spirit and all in with AA and doing all the things we're supposed to do. And more importantly, I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die. Living it. Walking it out. I feel like I'm a part of God. And when I'm not, I feel like I'm a part from God. It's two different walks. I have this mind that wants to separate me from you. Separate me from God. Separate me from everyone. And go to a place called isolation. While I'm sitting in a meeting like this. Right in the center, I feel isolated. Because that's where the mind wants me. It wants me alone. So in 1988, I'm panhandling in the street. And I learned how to panhandle quick. I became a thief. I did all the things you do when you're homeless. Anyone who's homeless knows exactly what I'm talking about when you're in that life. Bathing was the last thing on my mind, so was food. It was about do what I have to do, get the money, get to the liquor store, get a pint and go hide out, and if I was able to hustle up enough money, get some pills and wash it away. And it would dull the pain of what just happened, only to create future pain that was even greater. And I can't get out. I mean, how many times, both literally and figuratively, was sitting at the bar glued to a bar stool? I got to get home to the wife or the husband. I got to get to work. I promised my kids I would do this with them. I would study with them. I'd take them to the ball game, but one more drink. I need to get one more drink before I get out of here, and I never get out of there, and I'll just make it up to them. So I'll look in to pay any price tomorrow to seek comfort right now. This follows. I'll pay any price tomorrow. I need a little comfort right now. So here comes untreated alcoholism, and we act out. Because what alcoholism, in my experience, does is goes underground and resurfaces in other areas. Yeah, they're called the sex sprees and the food sprees and the gambling sprees and the fear sprees, and it just goes on and on and on because I can't deal with right now. I'm too uncomfortable, and that's just current unmanageability. You know, when a big book says practice these principles in all my affairs, it talks about homes, occupations, affairs. I always looked outward. How am I doing on a job? How am I doing at home? I'm supposed to be practicing principles in all those affairs, but how am I doing with treating me? If my mind is still God and I'm still listening to it, I forgot about practicing principles in this affair. The mind insists on separating me from God. It can't, but it insists on doing that, and I listen to it. All my anxiety, all my uncertainty, all my fear, all my doubt does not come from the soul. It comes from this mind, which is attached to everything out there. If they would only do what I want, if this would go this way, when I have enough money in the bank, or the Yankees finally win a World Series, I'll be okay. I'm attached to all of that stuff, so I'm riding this rollercoaster of unmanageability, and the culprit is always fear. So I come to on the floor of this hallway. It was June 23, 1988. I pray I never forget that day. Now, the pain of yesterday is not going to keep me sober today, but I just hope I never forget what that was like, what I look like and what I smell like, and my outlook upon life. I took up residency in the back of an abandoned building in Alphabet City in Lower Manhattan. It was a sordid spot. It wasn't a good place to be. And I'm roaming through the streets, and I was petrified. I knew if I took another arrest, I was going to be in trouble. I was going to do some prison time. I'd been arrested a bunch of times. I knew I was going to get shot or stabbed on the show. I was going to get run over. Just something bad. I'm walking with this impending doom. I'm petrified, guys. I'm like a little five-year-old who can't find his mama in the shopping mall, and I'm just screaming on the inside. And it's really scary when you're in that place and you're homeless. It's like you can scream out as loud as you want, and you feel like no one hears you. When you're homeless, people don't see you. You're a non-person. It's incredibly painful. And so I'm laying in the back of this hallway day after day, night after night, and I think about the condition of my life now and how God has allowed me to live now. I'm not a rich man. I don't have a fat bank account, but how I live is pretty nice. I wake up every morning to a woman I adore. I remember what I did yesterday. I eat and bathe regularly. I'm self-supporting through my own contributions. Back then I was lingering in the back of this filthy hallway, and as I said, bathing and eating were not on the list of things to do. And one day, it happened to be June 23rd of 1988, and I didn't even know it was the month of June, quite frankly. When I got into my seventh treatment center, I had no insurance. My dad went into his pocket to save my life to put me in another treatment center. When I got to the admissions department, they said something like, honey, today's June 23rd, the first day. The rest of your life isn't that good. It's not really. I'm thinking like homicide and suicide at this point. Then June 23rd kind of got deposited back here, but I come to on the back on the floor of this hallway, and I go to get up because I'm shaking violently. I know I need to hustle up money and get a drink right now. I was getting very sick. My whole digestive system was upside down. And when I got up off the floor to go out and panhandle, I collapsed. I've always tried to describe this. It would be like if Pat kind of got behind me and kind of hit me behind the knees. Both legs went out and down I go. And I remember just wailing in tears, purging of tears, and it's just the dam broke. Again, we live like foe and understand it backwards. I don't know what was happening back then, but I look back on it now. It was just years of this life. Years of betrayals and humiliations and degradations. Day after day after day disappointments. I thought of everything. It was as if my life passed before me. I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't have the power to wallow in my own self-pity. I didn't have the power to come up with, well, maybe I should go to detox, then I'll go to treatment, then I'll go to AA meetings and be Moses by Tuesday. I don't know what to do. Except one thing. The very same God, I despise and loathed and gossiped and slammed it and critiqued and basically hated was the very same God that I went back to. I have found even in recovering. I heard enough of your stories over the years. I'm sober long enough. That God creates an environment for us drunk and sober that feels and looks punitive, but it's to get our attention. Like when the kids aren't paying attention, we turn the TV off. I'm talking to you. Pay attention to me. I'm saying, how could you do that to me? But we're trying to help them. So God will create this environment that looks and sounds punitive, but he was doing it to save my life and he puts me in the back of this hallway. I'm falling apart. I can't stop crying and the very same God I hated. I went back to I'll never forget these words. Please take me from this. I don't want to die. Those were the words. I was not thinking about AA or treatment or detox or big book. I knew nothing about it. All I knew was treatment was the spin drive for me. Just clean out. Look good. Get out and do it again. In fact, some of the mentality back then was when you get out of treatment and you go to first time, it's going to be even the best. So I'm in treatment planning my next get high. Not that I look for permanent sobriety. I don't care about God or the 12 steps. I'm really not interested. I remember back in the day. I was in treatment and my higher power was this guy named Don Johnson. And there was a show called Miami Vice on TV. The older folks remember this and it was a Friday night at nine o'clock and H and I would bring the meeting in at eight o'clock. What an inconvenience. So I put on the eraser board by the chalkboard Miami Vice 9pm speakers. Please leave promptly. I don't watch my higher power Don Johnson. I'm actually detox and walking around treatment. Like I'm Don Johnson. I'm a complete knucklehead. I'm a complete knucklehead. I'm a complete knucklehead. I'm a complete knucklehead. I'm a complete knucklehead. I made this plea to God and I don't know what I'm going to do, but I hit the streets and I'm I'm kind of like I could even stand up straight. I'm kind of hobbled over like a broken down over lease and I'm in desperation was all over me. What happened to me in that hallway was when desperation screams louder than the ego. We're made teachable. Yeah, what God did for me with no steps and no AA and no big book. What God did for me was starve. The ego for a moment and give life to the soul and what happened to me in the early days looking back on it with no program just purely God's mercy was close the ears to the mind and open up the ears to the soul. So I can hear you for the first time. I had heard you before but I'm hearing you for the first time. And when they would take me to meetings, I've been to meetings with the treatment center and should I would come in. I didn't hear anything. And for the first time I'm hearing something that seemed. Attractive. I wanted what you had to offer. How do I get on your team? I'm lingering in the streets and I don't know what I'm going to do who I'm going to call. Who am I going to call collect? I'm in panic mode. I saw panhandling get some drink. My dad was in Atlantic City, New Jersey. My dad God gave my dad enough. Courage. Stamina direction. To hang in there with me to keep. Me alive long enough to get to you quite frankly. My dad was in Atlantic City and was awakened out of a sleep around 2 to 30 in the morning with an intuitive thought. He had to go find me. His wife thought a lunacy Commission should be appointed for him. And he was getting dressed and she's where you going? I'm going to find my son Peters. We haven't seen him forever. I know but I got to find him something in my gut as he described it. Tell me to go find Peter. And he left Atlantic City heads to low. We side Manhattan. It's a long long drive. If anyone knows that directions along ways without traffic. And he's driving through the worst parts of the alphabet City. I came in fathom him doing this. And it was a daybreak and it's early in the day and I'm standing on the corner tore up from the floor up and who drives up my dad. My God connected the dots. And put my dad in front of me. My dad get out of the car and I had every right to scream at me and bark at me, you know, even out of care and concern. You didn't do any of that. God gave him a completely different. Much unlike my dad how we normally would operate and he just called my name. And the first thing out of this mouth was I'm okay. I'm fine. And when my dad got to me, I remember I collapsed. And I knew it was over what was going to happen to me. I have no clue. Now for years. I forfeited every invitation. I came from God all the life for FC throughout but something happened in that moment. When I collapsed in my dad's arms and he was holding me up and kept repeating. I'm not going to lose my son to this. He kept repeating over and over and over again. Not going to lose my son to this. I felt safe from the first time probably in my life going back to maybe I was three or four. And somehow that undercurrent that met me was maybe I'll be okay this time. I don't know how I'm going to get out from under I'm busted up physically and emotionally and there's no nothing spiritual going on. I have no program. I have no steps. I have no air. No sobriety none zero. God doesn't care. Doesn't God got God didn't care what I look like smell like sounded like what my attitude on life was about. I just made a sincere plea. Please take me from this. I don't want to die. The intention was as pure as maybe it'll ever be in my entire life and God responded as he always has. I look back on my life on how many life rafts he threw out for me, but I kept looking that way. And they were coming this way. Get into my seven treatment center and I'm there about two weeks and they sent me out to Minnesota and there's something else happened. I met some people out there who were into our literature really into the literature and I again I heard something for the first time and I start to understand what step one was talking about how it applied to me. And eventually I got a sponsor. I haven't been without a sponsor since probably six months and change till right. Now. I've never been without a sponsor. I'm too afraid to do that. I don't want to leave my life up to my thinking because things don't work out. Well, because I have alcoholism not wasn't when I sat with the sponsor and they began to show me what's in this book. I was amazed. I never saw this before. I mean like most of us my big book was a doorstop. They gave it to you in treatment. It doesn't apply. I'll figure it out. I don't even care. And I open up the book with the spots and I found out there's not just 43 pages dedicated to step one doctor's opinions about 53 pages that talk about step one. We have how it works with two steps. We have interaction with five six seven eight nine ten and eleven. Six and seven a paragraph each step 153 pages to get to drive home to me exactly what I'm up against drunk or sober when my book tells you I'm an alcohol cannot manage my own life. That's not just. That's not just drunk that sober. So I started to understand what the heck is wrong with me when our first step says we admitted repulse over alcoholize have become unmanageable. I mean I saw that a million times in treatment. I don't understand what that means. How does that apply to me? What makes me not well? How come I have two brothers who used to drink and get high with me and then my brother moved to California to get into entertainment. My other brother method love of his life went to Washington says we're done. I hate people like that. I fly a lot. I get on a lot of planes a whole bunch of weekends a year and I used to hear John Charlie talk about this. I didn't know what they meant because I didn't fly that much back then. I do know now you get on a plane and those guys ordered those little Mickey Mouse things and then it sits there and then they have a couple of sips and go back to their laptop. I don't identify with people like this. The guy who gets carried off the plane for drunken disorderly my best friend. I don't know if you guys know this but I'm a little bit of a fan of the movie. I love it. I don't know why I'm doing this but I'm a little bit of a fan of the movie. And step one is a little hyphen them connects the two parts together. And so I'm homeless. Yeah, I'm homeless. I'm living this life and I get sober and suddenly I have clean clothes on and I'm sober another day. I'm washing my clothes and I'm sober another day and I'm bathing and I'm sober another day and I'm eating and I'm sober another day and little by slowly old timers would say things like, hey, kid. You look good. You sound good. Keep coming back. You look good. You sound good. Keep coming. Not good. Share good. She I keep coming back. So what this ego does is looks in the mirror replays all that and says I manageable I did it. So my focus now is on external things look good sound good be popular and all the ducks in a row and I got this slicked. And what I found the essence of all of this is I don't know what today's going to look like when the drink calls and I go regardless of what's going on. If you're around here a while, you know, we lose a lot of people right before their first year and right after their first year. They made the market coming up on the market of mine says go and that's powerlessness that I can't stop it. I have no power choice control in my mind while I'm sober to stop a drink as far as thinking it through and play and take to the end. Hey, if that works for you fabulous keep doing it my experience. What happens is I play the tape through where it looks really good. My alcoholism tells me what it's going to do for me. When this goes down, it's going to be Utopia. It doesn't tell me going to wind up in detox. It leaves that part out. So I got focused on the second half of the first step making sure my life was manageable and how the heck am I going to manage my life when I have no program no God in my life yet nothing. And they had me sit down and take a break. I'm going to take a break. I'm going to take a break. I'm going to take a look at what what powerless really meant. I remember the very first time I got arrested. I was petrified. I thought I was going to get like the electric chair that night or something and I got arrested on Lower East Side. I had some things in my car. Shouldn't have had hanging around people. I should have been hanging around and the cops get out. They bang on my door. They pull me out of the car and the handcuffs go on and they take me to housing police and over to 100 Center. Now I'm in the system. Now I want to go home. I'm hoping they say don't do that again and go home. But I can't I'm part of the system. Now. I have no power no choice and no control right now. I'm up. I do what they tell me to do and nothing else. I can't get out. I want to I can't when it comes to alcoholism. Basically handcuffed to alcoholism and I can't get out and my best intentions won't get me out. Remember the pain of yesterday won't stop. And I need a power greater than myself. Whatever that looks like. This is why I'm sober. I'm plotting the next year. Go sometimes I just walk outside and the mind suddenly shows up. Let's go go. Let's go get high and we go boom. And I wipe away everything. I have this other condition that once I pick up a drink I get stuck in more. I need more. It's called craving the book talks at this allergy. Yeah. I remember I was with a friend and she had broke her finger on a treadmill. She tripped and fell and broke her finger and I had to set it and they gave her some kind of pain meds IV pain meds. I remember she's oh my God. I don't like this. Get it out of me. I would have broke all my fingers that day. We have an abnormal reaction. So what happens to me is I pick up a drink and for some reason the second one screams louder. And I have to get out. I have to get out. I have to have that. And the third one has to go down. Then suddenly I'm figuring out how to arrange the rest of my day because I know I have to have another drink. And I have no idea when I'm going to stop or where I'm going to stop. But I'm in the cycle now and my body's craving more going to bathroom to come back and order another double. You know, OD'd yesterday. I'm back at it again today. I can't get out. It's this phenomenon called craving that our book talks about so well much better. I can explain and does my experience kind of saddle up to what the book is talking about. I'm probably an alcoholic. Maybe an alcoholic did a lot of other things too. I didn't know any of this when I got here in 1988 going and coming out of my seven dreams. I still don't know what I'm an alcohol what an alcoholic is and they explained this to me. I got a sponsor and he had me do some pretty cool things. I have to take a look at reading Bill's story. But Wilson's like a wannabe stockbroker. What do I have in common with Bill? He was born way before I was born. What can I possibly have in common with a guy like Bill Wilson until I was told take a look at Bill's story. Did I drink like him feel like him and think like him? Yeah, I did how many times he wanted to stop only return to alcohol again. And my sponsor had me write out as Bill did in the first night pages a little first step. And I would share that with him and we will identify all the allergy all the mental obsession all the phenomenon called craving all of that stuff. And Sally I know I'm an alcoholic but I'm finding out how deep this thing goes and then we talked about bedevilments and this is a great assignment. It's right on page 52 bedevilments. How does step one meet some of us who've been here like five or ten or 15 or 20 years the step won't even apply anymore. Or have I gotten far away from it? I've gotten far away from step one. Are there areas of my life I have denial with? Like my health it's really bad but I keep denying it's bad. Or my financial situation is really poor but I keep looking the other way. Or I've been thinking a lot about drinking but I'm not telling anyone. How far away from step one have I gotten? I kind of cut back on meetings. I don't really sponsor anyone. I really don't have a sponsor. I'm just going out looking good and sounding good touching base and getting out. I've gotten far away from step one. I've got a lot of friends who have told me you don't even believe you're an alcoholic anymore. Untreated alcoholism while I'm sober. I've experienced this. I'm having trouble in personal relationships. I'm fronting really well. Hi, how are you? How's everything? Would you like some coffee? You know I'm being the AA spiritual guy. But on the inside there's a lot of chatter. I think of people and I get really angry about them. There's a lot of dialogue, a lot of character assassination. Most of it's inward. I'm never really okay. I'm not traveling light. I'm starting to wear the world heavy. I can't control my emotions. I'm blowing off the handle for no reason. If you cut me off I'll chase you down. If you show up late for work I'm going to let you know about it. If the room isn't set up when I get there at home group somebody's going to pay the price. Start slamming chairs, passive aggressive. Wife's late with dinner, I start slamming things. Passive aggressive. Anything will set me off. I'm full of fear. Since I can't make a living, well I have a job but I'm a lousy worker. I go to work and don't work. I talk about everybody. No one likes me. Or I'm sitting home watching Netflix all day unemployed and the rent is due and I'm not even going out looking for a job. Because I know Bill Gates is going to call me any day and say take over. And it goes on and on and on. And something happens when I'm in that place of current unmanageability. I have some current agnosticism going on. Which means I don't believe God's going to work. Which is exactly what the mind wants me to think. That God won't fix this. God won't take me past here. God won't take me to a place called free. God won't take me past this kingdom. God won't take me past this current stuff I'm in. It's up to me. Which means I have self-reliance. Which means I have fear. And I'm stuck in this vicious cycle while I'm sober 15, 20, and 30 years. And the ego has gotten so big it won't permit me to tell someone, hey can you sponsor me? I'm in a little bit of trouble. Alcoholism. Cunning, baffling, and powerful. And unbelievably patient. I remember walking into my first treatment center. And I'm not like you people. I'm not an alcoholic. I went to my first treatment center because my dad placed me in there. People around me saw a problem before I did. Going into my fifth treatment center, I got an idea what alcoholism is. And I probably won. But I don't know if I'm really willing to stop. I'll stop the powder stuff. But I don't know about this alcohol and pill thing. Do I have to quit that too? Can I just do it on weekends? Can I use it safely? So I make a firm resolution on the way into my fifth treatment center. I'm done. I'm going to turn over a new leaf. I am going to turn over a new leaf. And I was in this treatment center for nine consecutive weeks. It was an inpatient, locked down treatment center. The old ones back in the day, the inpatient stuff. I don't know if they even have them anymore. But I can tell you this. You know your life's not going well when your side of the door doesn't have a doorknob. That's not a good sign. And after nine weeks of being in this treatment center, I put on weight and was eating good and sleeping and going to group after group. I was able to identify every feeling known to mankind after nine weeks. I knew my inner workings of my mind, my inner child, all this stuff. And it's a place for that. But I couldn't combat alcoholism because I was discharged on a Saturday morning after nine weeks. I looked fresh-skinned and glowing. And immediately I was slapped with reality. And the mind woke up. You know all those voices? You know all the voices we work with? You know, do you ever wake up first thing in the morning and you're slammed with like a hundred voices at once? Or you wake up, open up your eyes, and you're right in the middle of a heated argument with someone who died 20 years ago? The woulda, coulda, shouldas. My feet didn't even hit the ground yet. While I was in a little cocoon of treatment, it kind of got a little quiet. They did a lot of busy work. Art therapy, singing therapy, dance therapy, another group, another group. All that stuff. So you're kind of occupied. And then I get discharged. I'm in Amityville, Long Island. And I'm slammed with, oh my God, what do I do now? It's me against the world again. So even though I'm physically sober, my life is still unmanageable. I'm not managerial quality. I've learned that. 37 years sober, I am still not managerial quality. You do not want me to manage your business, it will go broke. This is the business. I go broke. It's called drunk. I have no money on me. I have no cell phone. There's no plastic. I have no way to go. Again, so I make a collect call home to my dad. He says, get in the cab and come home. We'll figure it out. And I was at my dad's house for two days. Two days of sobriety, if you want to call it that. Physically, I'm sober. With me, I have no post-acute withdrawal syndrome going on. I don't like, I'm not shaking. I don't need a quick one just to kind of settle my nerves. Physically, I'm okay. Mentally, nothing. Mentally, another story. The obsession of screaming so loud, it began to feel physical. Only an alcoholic knows that. It's so loud and so overpowering, I start to feel uncomfortable physically. Two days I went through this of what we call the white knuckle sobriety, yeah? And on Monday morning, I snuck out of my dad's house, 3, 4 in the morning, whatever it was, it was still dark out. I took a car that didn't belong to me, headed to downtown Brooklyn. My plan was this. It was a set up and an ambush by alcoholism. The set up was just get one pint of whiskey and chill. Ditch the car, it'd be a great day. The ambush was that didn't happen. Because I was sitting in the car and becoming more and more agitated and feeling more and more uncomfortable and obsessing even louder on needing a drink right now. Again, I don't need a drink. But I never picked up the first drink drunk. I get out of the car and I'm pacing up and down on the sidewalk and I'm a bundle of nerves. My heart is coming through my chest. My forehead is sweaty. My hands are shaking like I need a drink. Well, when the liquor store finally opened, I ran in there and got a pint of whiskey and drank it. And you know what happened? I felt better. Because that's what it does. It's supposed to do that. And I finished the pint. That was my plan. One pint and I can breathe again. I'm back in the saddle, okay? I can figure out life. The biggest delusion I have out there when I walk. That life is controllable and I can control it. And when I'm drinking whiskey, I think I'm in control of my life. And when I'm not, I feel like I'm losing control. It's just the opposite. The problem, I'm alcoholic. So I had to go back into the liquor store and get a second pint of whiskey. I'm not out. I'm never getting out. And I finished that. Now I'm drunk. I like to get drunker because the cravings on them stuck in the throat. So I got to get more whiskey. And then I like to eat pills. The number I can get, the more I can push the world away, go into a cocoon where nothing can hurt me, nothing can get in. I'm good that way. That's how I like to do life until oblivion. And I went on a really, really bad bender. That wasn't the plan. The plan was to get one pint and chill. I went on a really bad drunk. The trap doors have trap doors. I started doing things. And to get money and hanging out with people I wouldn't normally fly over. It comes a point where I don't even care anymore. All morals are gone. Any kind of ethics I walked into my life with were gone. I don't care. I'm in this life. I don't care if I haven't brushed my teeth in a week. I don't care if I haven't bathed in a month. I don't care. I need money. I'll figure it out later. Alcoholism. It's way beyond a drink. It's way beyond a drink. Because I get into treatment and sober up and freshen up and leave and go back and do it all over again. Family members, civilians would say, what does it take? What part of this aren't you getting? And for me, that's real unmanageability. As I said earlier, not knowing what the day looks like when the drink calls and I pick up. I had a sponsor. He was out of Texas. And he said to me one time, do you think you participated in your last relapse? I said, of course I did. He said, keep coming back. He says, you went to the liquor store because the body needed the fuel. But you didn't have any participation in that because alcoholism made a decision for you and you obeyed it. You can't get out. How many times have we gone to the liquor store or to the spot to get what we're trying to get? And on the way, there's a little voice saying, it's not going to end good. This is bad. I shouldn't do this. I'm going to get caught. I'm going to get arrested. Can I have two? On the way to the liquor store. Just finished panhandling. Bad move. Pete, don't do this. Don't do this. Can I have a pint? Actually, he knew what I wanted as soon as I walked in. That's another bad sign. So I'm painted into a corner. And I'm just about out of time here. I get painted into a corner. Our book in 53 pages puts me into a corner. They're going to do it again on page 52. Because our books is the more hopeless a guy like me feels, the better, because I become teachable. Where there's no options. There's no rungs in the ladder anymore. And so what I need is, how do I get out of this? In fact, I keep making meetings and keep getting drunk. I have a stack of white chips from here to Timbuktu. What am I doing wrong? I'm making meetings. Well, the step two, which we'll hit next week, is to point her out. I was in Bernersville, New Jersey. A bunch of years ago. Before cell phones and GPS. And the first time to Bernersville, it was a Tuesday night meeting I'd asked to speak at. And it was about 45 minutes, 40 minutes from where I was living in New Jersey. And I needed gas in the car. But typical alcoholic, I'll get it later. And they said, you know how to get home? I said, I got it. And the thing about Bernersville, if you kind of go into the outskirts, you're in farm country. A lot of rolling hills and farms and sites. And silos and all this weird stuff. And that's exactly what happened to me. I took a wrong turn. And I'm driving. There's trees around me and rolling hills and farms. And the gas tank is on E. And I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm starting to get nervous. And I start to panic. I don't know what to do. I can't get out of this. I have no phone. I made a turn, go down this winding hill. And at the bottom of the hill, I see lights. Head for the lights. Maybe there's a gas station there. With two and a little strip mall. Loaded the car up with gas. I need to get to 78 East or West. Go down here and make a left. I'm home. That's step two to me. It's a pointer out. Not much done here. But it's a pointer out. And chapter 10 Gnostics is going to present a God of my conception to me. By telling me my own conception, no matter how inadequate or sufficient. They don't care. We don't care. Group of drunks. Good early direction. Great outdoors. We don't care. As long as it's not me. That's what my sponsor says. As long as you're not God. And next week we'll talk more about step two. Thanks for listening.