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Fair warning: This edition of my sober newsletter is a bit R-rated. Maybe even NC-17. Proceed with caution.
I went to a meeting recently where we read from the book Living Sober, which is an underrated piece of sober literature. It definitely skews a little toward being a beginner’s handbook to grinding out another day sober. But I still get a lot out of reading it.
And I was getting a lot out of it the other day when we were reading the chapter called “Eliminating Self-Pity.” Self-pity is a tough thing to wrestle with in sobriety. I find it to be quite intoxicating. It feels good sometimes to sit back and think about all the ways the world is screwing you, you’re not being paid enough, you’re having terrible luck with traffic, your car has a rattle, you don’t have enough money, and on and on. I have a few specific verbal cues that I hear in my head or sometimes say out loud.
“Oh, that figures,” is one.
“Damn, just my luck,” is another.
The chapter in Living Sober does a good job of laying out all the ways we get sucked into self-pity, and how it can be like a warm bath that you don’t want to get out of.
And then we got to Page 56. A paragraph begins like this: “Another excellent weapon is humor. Some of the biggest belly laughs at AA meetings erupt when a member describes his or her latest orgy of self-pity…”
Whoa. An orgy of self-pity? What the hell kind of meetings are you people going to?
I thought maybe I was just a perv for immediately giggling about that word. But I looked it up, and the first dictionary definition says “wild or drunken festivity or revelry, especially involving sex with multiple participants.” So I might be a perv… but the first definition of that word definitely involves some sexual hijinks.
However… I don’t think my 12-step recovery ancestors meant it that way. So the second definition is probably more appropriate: “any actions or proceedings marked by unbridled indulgences of passions.”
That’s more like it. Think about that phrase as it relates to the last time you were feeling a little bit of oh-poor-me-itis—“unbridled indulgences of passions.” In this case, passions probably means anger, resentment, frustration, slumped shoulders and self-centeredness. So much self-centeredness.
I used to be confused by that last concept of self-pity being selfish. How can being grumpy about a bad day or a bad week be selfish? I’m just venting, right? But it actually is selfish most of the time. When I am thinking that the world is screwing me over, it usually means I have placed myself in the center of the universe and am aggravated that I am being saddled with all this bad luck. When I remember that I am just another bozo on the bus, and when I am right-sized—not too big, not too small—I never get sucked into self-pity.
But when I do climb into that self-pity pond… woo boy, it is a bit of an orgy. It is a series of unbridled indulgences of passions, and none of it is very fun. It’s just a bunch of whining and pissing and moaning, with no real intent to make meaningful change. I just lay in that self-pity pot and stew.
So I will be thinking about that specific phrase—orgy of self-pity—for awhile and I promise, I will be thinking about it in the most spiritual way possible.
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
AN OLDIE BUT GOODIE, WITH A TWIST
A sponsor and sponsee were enjoying a wonderful cruise when their ship got caught in a devastating storm and went under. Washed up on a desert island, they were the only two to survive. They decided to take it a day at a time and had just started scouting for food, when they came upon a mysterious lamp. They brushed it off and poof! out popped a genie.
"I will grant you each one wish," said the genie.
The sponsor, being a good AA, told his sponsee to go first, but the sponsee humbly declined. So the sponsor closed his eyes and exclaimed: "I wish I were back at our home group." And poof! he was gone.
The sponsee was amazed! The genie commanded, "Now, your wish!" The sponsee started pacing. "I don't know what to wish for. Long-term sobriety? A relationship with that cute newcomer? Man, I wish my sponsor were here…"
(Credit: AA Grapevine, May 2004, by Jason D. of Kirkuk)
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