LOL Sober

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

We read the Fifth Step at a meeting the other day, and there was one sentence that really stuck with me.

Here it is: All of us saw, for example, that we lacked honesty and tolerance, that we were beset at times by attacks of self-pity or delusions of personal grandeur.

I identify with that so much. This is talking about what we hopefully begin to notice about ourselves as we finish up a thorough Fourth Step and begin to understand our patterns for collecting and cultivating resentment.

I nodded my head at the first part of that sentence, about realizing I lacked honesty and tolerance. But I really found myself identifying with the second part, especially associating the word “attack” with self-pity.

In my experience, self-pity is not subtle. It’s not quiet and sneaky. For me, it runs into the room and punches me in the face. It also spreads like water coming in from a leaky roof. Self-pity is one of those emotions that is a real pollutant—as soon as I start feeling it, more floods in and is a toxin to anything else going on in my life.

I’ll give you a recent example. My wife was down for the count a few weeks ago with an illness, so I was running kids around all day, every day. My needs definitely were not being met in the way that I would have liked them to have been met. Was I unable to eat or breath or sleep? No, not at all. But I had to get up a little earlier, be a little more selfless, watch a little less football, drive a little bit more… all stuff that was for other people, not me, THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THE WORLD.

At one point, on a day when I was driving and driving and driving like an unpaid Uber driver, one of my teenagers jumped in the car and immediately turned my radio off and said, “God, why do you have to listen to your stupid music so loud? It’s so embarrassing.”

So I had been attacked a little earlier by self-pity, and now this was a full frontal assault on me. How. Dare. You? The music had been Sweet Child of Mine by Guns N’ Roses, by the way, which is not stupid music. It is music THAT RULES.

When she said that to me, that “it’s so embarrassing,” my immediate thought was, You know what? You’re not going to college. Screw you. Is that embarrassing?”

In sobriety, I have learned what the solution is. First, I shut up. Say nothing. In those moments, it’s pretty rare that you need to respond at all.

Secondly, I either get to a meeting or call a sober friend, or both. The thing I get from meetings and recovery buddies is perspective, and self-pity often involves no perspective. I think the world is being unfair to me, that people are out to get me, and that it always has been that way and always will. It’s all b******t. I’m probably fine, or I will be.

So in my experience, the key to fighting off a self-pity attack is to launch a serenity attack. Actually, I don’t think there is such a thing as a “serenity attack,” but you probably catch my drift.

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:

You’re driving in a car at a constant speed. On your left is a valley and on your right is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as you.

In front of you is a galloping pig, but you cannot overtake it. Behind you is a helicopter also traveling at the same speed as you.

Q: What must you do to get out of this dangerous situation?

A: Get off the kid's carousel and, next time, don't drink so much.

(Credit: AA Grapevine, December 2006, by Richard M. of Golden, Colorado)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

When I had about three years sober, I remember getting into a knockdown, drag-out argument with a co-worker about how good a movie was. I remember thinking the movie was great, and he said it sucked. The argument started out as just a fun conversation about a movie, which I think is pretty harmless. I actually enjoy hearing people discuss and argue about movies, TV, music, even sports.

But this got out of hand. I ended up insulting the guy, and I think he took a few swipes at me, too. I walked away from his desk in a huff. I really was pissed and wanted to continue the argument. I wanted the full Siskel and Ebert debate right there in a workplace that has nothing to do with movie reviews.

Luckily I called a sober friend and he got a good laugh out of it. He made the case that when I am at my highest level of soberness and spirituality, I probably don’t get into an argument like that. I probably chuckle and walk away 10 seconds after hearing the other guy’s opinion.

He also became the first person to challenge me to only offer opinions when asked for them, and to keep track of how often that happens. Turns out, if you pay attention to the amount of times people directly ask you to weigh in with your opinion… it is way, way lower than you probably think. In fact, I bet there are entire days where no one asks your opinion on anything.

That argument about a movie flashed through my head recently because I got into an argument with one of my kids about going to a sporting event. The game was supposed to start at 7, but we were going to meet some friends at 6 and hang out. My daughter suggested that she would come and hang out, then leave and pick up a friend, then come back to the game.

I said that that wasn’t the most brilliant plan, that driving out of a packed sporting event while everybody else is driving in won’t go well. She’s 17 and didn’t give two s***s about what I had to say. She blew me off and said to just let her go for it, that she has a license and her own car, and she can deal with it if it ends up being a bad decision.

Should have been over at that point, right? Let the kid make her own mistake!

Nope. I couldn’t let it go. I started telling her how many sporting events I had been to, and how much of an expert I am. She didn’t really listen. She didn’t ask my opinion. She ended up leaving before the game and returning halfway through, and it was fine. I had been wrong.

But the lesson for me isn’t whether I ended up being right or wrong about the merits of anything. Even if I had been right… it would have been wrong to bicker with a teenager about something silly like that. Why would I burn up spiritual energy about a movie or how to drive out of a crowded parking lot? Who gives a s**t?

I find that I have only so much spiritual capital in my account every day, and I cannot burn it being Siskel or Ebert or a sporting event parking lot expert. Maybe I’ll finally learn that some day.

Key word: maybe.

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:

A group of us AA members gathered in a small conference room on the first day of an Alaskan cruise for a "Friends of Bill W." meeting. A gentleman stood outside the door, keeping his eye on us.

Those inside had exchanged first names and had shaken hands—a sure sign we knew why we were there. When we asked the gentleman at the door if he would like to join us, he looked at us rather suspiciously and said, "I don't know. My name is Bill Wilson, and I would like to know who my friends are."

(Credit: AA Grapevine, by Conrad B., February 2005)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

About six months ago, I was on a road trip for work and hit a meeting in Florida. At that meeting, a guy shared that this was his first in-person meeting in three years, and that he only did Zoom meetings for about a month before he got sick of them. So he stopped going to meetings altogether.

He proceeded to then describe three tough years, full of life stuff that sounded quite difficult. But even he was acknowledging that zero meetings was a fundamental problem in why things were so difficult. He mentioned something that really stuck with me, because I think about it sometimes too: He said he’d done the steps and he had learned a lot and that he had “graduated” into a life of recovery without doing much actual recovery.

He said that was a dangerous thought, and I agree. But I bet most alcoholics and addicts have had that thought at some point. It’s not even a formal thought that I have. I never actually tell myself that I graduated. But I do think sometimes that yesterday’s sobriety will keep me sober today.

Actually, let me correct that a little bit, because I have been sober for quite some time so yesterday’s sobriety honestly does seem to keep me sober the next day.

The problem comes two days, three days, four days later. I’ll have those inner conversations where I think, “You just got to a meeting on Sunday. It’s only Wednesday!” It’s almost like I am making fun of myself for needing meetings. Deep down, some part of me is deciding that I have put in lots of work, so why not take it a little easy?

That’s b******t, because I do take it pretty easy. I would say that when a problem requires 16 hours of work and the solution often requires only an hour a day of my time… that’s a pretty good tradeoff, isn’t it?

This is front and center for me this week because I had a hell of a time getting to meetings last week. My wife was sick, so I was running kids around all week and trying to keep up with work responsibilities. So I got to a meeting on Sunday, Monday and Wednesday… then I coasted on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I did catch myself knowing of a Zoom meeting that I could make… but then deciding to watch a football game instead because “I deserved it.”

Listen, I’m not here to tell people not to enjoy their sober lives. Do it. That’s kind of the point, right? But I am someone who can’t get away with that on a regular basis… even though I really, really deserve it right now! Somebody print me out a diploma!

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. WARNING: This one is a little more R-rated than I usually like to include. But here goes:

A DRUNKEN MAN WALKS into a rough-looking biker bar, sits down, and orders a drink. Looking around, he sees three men sitting at a corner table. He gets up, staggers to the table, leans over, looks the biggest, meanest biker in the eye and says, "I went by your grandma's house today and saw her in the hallway, stark naked. Boy, she is one fine-looking woman!"

The biker looks at him and doesn't say a word. His friends are surprised, because he is easily angered and would fight at the drop of a hat.

The drunk again leans on the table and says, "I got it on with your grandma and, boy, is she good!"

The bikers' buddies are getting furious, but still their friend is silent.

The drunk leans in even closer to the man and says, "I'll tell you something else, boy, your grandma liked it!"

At this point, the biker stands up, takes the drunk by the shoulders, looks him square in the eyes, and say, "Grandpa, go home, You're drunk."

(Credit: Grapevine, by Claire V., May 2005)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

I was at a meeting the other day where we read Step Six, which deals with character defects. There is a section where the authors tick off a bunch of examples of character defects, and I found myself nodding along because I am guilty of that one, and that one, and yep, that one, too… As usual, the people who wrote our literature 75 years ago were exactly like me.

One in particular jumped out at me because it showed me a broader point. There were a few lines about gossip and character assassination, and how many of us like to speak ill of others or at least spread information about others.

I’ve always been guilty of it, though I do think my brand of gossiping is often not mean-spirited. It’s always center-of-attention stuff. I’ll catch myself saying, “Did you hear about Biff? He got demoted,” or, “Have you seen Heather at meetings? I heard she told her sponsor she didn’t think she was an alcoholic any more.”

Luckily, I stopped the sobriety gossip completely. I’ve heard a few good speakers share over the years about everything that should fall under the anonymity umbrella, and it’s more than just not knowing your last name. Today, I believe wholeheartedly in the idea that I can say I was at a meeting… but I can’t say you were at one. That’s a tricky topic that not everybody agrees on, so I will circle back in another entry some time in the near future.

So I try not to ever talk about other people from recovery. In real life… I am not nearly as successful at curtailing it. The truth is, gossip is intoxicating. I always feel like I know stuff, that I am valuable, that I am trustworthy (even though passing along information is in and of itself not trustworthy). Gossip is one of those addictive behaviors that won’t kill you. But does it cause occasional pain? Sure, and it definitely gives me a hangover feeling two hours later when I wonder, “Why can’t I just shut up and mind my own business?”

The other thing mentioned in Step Six is character assassination, which is something I catch myself doing on a regular basis. I still think deep down that if I tear you down, it will lift me up. I’m not someone who says a lot of mean things directly to people… but definitely take swipes at them by talking to other people, especially people who might feel the same as me. Nothing beats a slow Tuesday afternoon where you are feeling a little down, then you start a s**t-talking swarm about some poor guy who probably did nothing wrong.

Here’s the entire point of this entry: As I read Step Six the other night and it listed some of those bad behaviors, I realized that I don’t do the gossip/character assassination with sober people. I don’t say any of those things when I am around recovery friends. Why not?

First of all, I think it certainly indicates I have a valve that I am turning off and on when I speak to certain people, which indicates I have more ability to stop doing it than I like to think.

Secondly, I think it’s an affirmation of what sober people stand for. I can remember a few times where I drifted into bad-mouthing family members or coworkers with sober people, and they just had no time for that. I don’t remember anybody telling me to shut the f— up but I also don’t remember anybody saying, “Keep going, I want to hear more about this a*****e.” They just aren’t interested. They ask things like, “OK, but what was your role in that?” Or, “What’s the exact nature of your resentment?” Or, “Have you thought about what it’s like to be in their shoes?”

That can be a little exhausting. I do believe in the idea that sometimes people just need to vent. But that’s also usually an excuse I use to be able to keep going on a bad behavior.

I’ll be thinking about that reading for awhile, and what it proves: Which is that I can do a helluva better job of just shutting up.

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:

Early one morning, two drunks stood on a street corner arguing about whether it was the sun or the moon that was shining down on them. Just then, another lush came along, and they ask him to settle the argument.

"How should I know?" he answered. "I don't even live around here."

(Credit: Grapevine, by Sam M. of California, June 2005)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

I was at a meeting awhile back where someone celebrated three months sober, even though he didn’t have three months sober. He said, “I have two months and 27 days but I won’t be here next week. So I am celebrating now.”

That’s not really how a program that is One Day at a Time is supposed to work, in my humble opinion. But everybody clapped and the guy got a three-month coin. And what the hell do I know, anyway?

It reminded me of one of the most valuable things I have ever heard said at a meeting: “Take what you need, leave the rest.” That goes for anything in sobriety. The people, the prayers, the pre-meeting chit-chat, everything—hell, the steps are just suggestions. If you want to go to 12-step meetings and not get a sponsor and not put a dollar in the basket and not do the steps, you can!

I love meetings. I go to one almost every day even though I have been sober since 2008. So this list is tongue-in-cheek. If I really had a long, elaborate list of things I hated at meetings, I probably wouldn’t go to so many meetings. Please take this for what it is—a list of mild annoyances that says more about me than anything else.

Here goes:

—5. Around the room format: I haven’t run into this situation much recently because I have been going to smaller meetings. But I don’t love when meetings go around the room and don’t offer any sort of window for others to share. I just think it’s important that a newcomer or somebody on the edge of a relapse is able to throw their hand up in an emergency.

—4. Long readings: OK, this is one where I could see myself going to the business meeting and making a suggestion to cut back on long readings. I don’t love when I get to a 60-minute meeting and see that we’re going to spend 45-plus minutes on a reading. Like I said a minute ago, I think meetings should always have a nice-sized window for the newcomer or struggling person to raise their hand. If you have a 45-minute reading, then the chairperson shares, you’re looking at only one or two more people getting an opportunity.

Let me throw in a P.S. on this long readings point… I don’t love when a meeting reads How It Works, The Promises and then has a 10-minute script, either. It eats into the time for people to share. Though I will say that one time I mentioned that we shouldn’t read How It Works at a meeting because everybody knows it already, and a guy said, “If that is true—which it isn’t—then how do you think they learned it?” Point taken.

—3. Lord’s Prayer: Not a big fan. I find it is too specifically linked to a specific religion. I always take the option to say a silent meditation of my choosing.

—2. Cross talk: This is another one that I actually have a big beef against. I don’t like meetings where people just blurt stuff out. I haven’t been to too many where someone says, “Hey Fred, you should stop doing x, y and z” or anything that specific. But I do still get to meetings where it can be a little cliquey and people think it’s funny during a meeting that has started to say stuff under their breath, or make a direct comment on how their football team just beat yours, or goof on somebody’s outfit. I’m fine with having a little fun with each other… but maybe save it for after the meeting?

The pushback I always get when I say stuff about cross talk is that it doesn’t really hurt anybody in most cases. That’s probably true. My pushback to that pushback is that people who are new to 12-step meetings leave and think that meetings are like study hall in high school, and I don’t think that’s cool. But I admit, I might be taking myself too seriously. And if a meeting’s group conscience is to be rowdy, guess what? Every meeting is autonomous, so I think the next right thing for me in those circumstances is to quietly leave and find a different meeting.

—1. Personalities: We all have people who annoy us, even in sobriety. I don’t really have a specific type of person who annoys me. There are just some personalities that rub me the wrong way. And I know that I probably annoy people myself, too. So that’s always important to know. A crucial thing I’ve come to realize is that there are many different flavors of sobriety, and I don’t like some of them. That’s fine!

I’ll end with a story. I had a guy who really wasn’t my style, and I was seeing him at almost every meeting. I thought he was a little bit of a blow-hard who seemed to me to be an All-Star at meetings and then full of s**t once the meeting is over. I had decided this guy didn’t carry these principles into all our affairs, as if I was some kind of sobriety evaluator.

So one Saturday morning I walked into a meeting where the format was that the chairperson shares for 15 minutes to start the meeting, and this guy was chairing. I immediately thought, “Oh god, I gotta get out of here.”

But I decided to stay because I thought about how much we’re encouraged to think about principles more than personalities. So it was his turn to share to start the meeting, and he talked for probably 20 minutes instead of 15. And I was counting, because I am petty like that.

When he got done, he turned it over to the floor for people to share. I think the first five people all shared what an amazing influence he had been on their sobriety, including a few examples where I thought I might tear up. This person was not my cup of tea, but clearly had done a bunch of amazing things going back many years to help others.

So that day, I took that idea with me—that I need to extend my hand at all times because you never know when 10 years later that will really have affected somebody’s life in a positive way. And I left the rest, which means I personally did not get that guy’s phone number or have much interest in hanging out with that guy. And that’s fine!

Take what you need, leave the rest…

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:

ONE DAY, I SAW A SMILING, ELDERLY woman sitting on her porch, so I walked up to her and said, "I couldn't help noticing how happy you look. What is your secret for such a long, happy, life?"

With a smile as slow as her words, she said "I smoke five packs of cigarettes a day, I drink light beer, dark beer, and that carb-friendly beer. When I wake up in the morning, I mix a little whiskey in my coffee and then polish off the whole bottle for lunch. I eat only junk food, I never exercise, and on weekends, I may raid the medicine cabinet to liven things up a little bit."

"That's amazing!" I exclaimed. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four," she replied.

(Credit: Grapevine, June 2005, by Sherri B of Houston, Texas)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

I heard a great speaker at a meeting once who talked about being right. About how we all want to be right. That when we’re right, we feel smart. We feel valuable. We feel like we have intuition, that we should be consulted on things in the future because we nailed this one thing.

But… what does it even mean to be right? I’ll use the workplace as an example. Almost every worker on earth has a list of 10 things that their company does that are dumb and that we would change if we were in charge. I would say I have definitely had moments like that. Then I moved up a little bit in management and realized the other factors that went into certain decisions because now I was in that spot. That was a real ah-ha moment.

I’ll give you another example. I was in a fairly heated debate with my wife once about when we needed to leave to get somewhere. She said it took a little less than 20 minutes and the appointment was at 3 pm, so we should leave around 2:40. I said I thought that was cutting it close, and that we should aim for 2:30 because you never know if you hit road construction or traffic. We ended up leaving around 2:40 and there was indeed a lane closure. My wife was cursing the roadwork crew as we sat and waited, and sure enough, we were five minutes late. I made sure to remind my wife that we would have been fine if we’d left when I suggested. She freaking loved that, let me tell you.

I was right… and I won absolutely nothing. We were still late. By trying to dunk on her, my wife was aggravated, which is exactly what would have happened if the roles were reversed. So it brings up the concept that even when you’re right… who gives a s**t? Did it matter?

That made me think of a great line from the Tenth Step in the 12 and 12 book, where it says we were often “emotionally ill and frequently wrong.” Even in sobriety, and even on great days in sobriety, I am often a little off emotionally, which leads me to offer unnecessary or bad input, to argue more than I should, and other bad behaviors.

And yes, that means I am frequently wrong, too. I will go back to a point I raised earlier about playing the long game in recovery. Sometimes I look back on things in life where I was right six months earlier, and I realize that I may have been right, but it didn’t matter. Or I may have been right and it mattered… but not nearly as much I was haggling about. Or that I was right in the moment but over the long haul, maybe I wasn’t right. So right and wrong can be much more complicated than it would seen.

That line really cracks me up: emotionally ill and frequently wrong. I catch myself on a regular basis being one or the other of those things and it never turns out well. And when I am both emotionally ill and frequently wrong? Holy s**t, look out.

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:

HEARD AT MEETINGS....

"The good news is that we get our emotions back. The bad news is the same."

(Credit: Grapevine, by Jack L. of Hewlett, NY, August 2005)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

When I did Step 1, I had zero disagreement. No part of me wondered if I could drink or do drugs any more. I was ready. I had come to believe with 100 percent of my heart that I was powerless over alcohol and my life was unmanageable.

The only part of Step 1 that was a little thorny for me the first time through was the concept of accepting the fact that I need to go to any lengths to stay sober. I wanted to half-ass it. But I realized pretty quickly that if I didn’t live and breath recovery the same way I lived and breathed addiction than I wasn’t going to make it.

So I went to my first meeting and I have been sober ever since. The really interesting thing for me was when I went through the steps a second time. It happened right when I needed it, too. I’d been sober for a few years so my life had improved dramatically and I didn’t have any significant cravings any more. Life was good.

As I went through Step 1 again and applied the concept of unmanageability and powerlessness to the rest of my life, I realized: "Oh my god, it’s all unmanageable and I am powerless over pretty much every single thing that happens in the world.”

That’s a funny thought that you hear periodically from sober people. But when I did Step 1 it sank into my soul and I didn’t just think it, I BELIEVED it. Actually, I KNEW it.

I had a few minutes when I got panicky because of what that meant. It meant I was powerless over my kids, my job, my wife, my car, traffic on every single trip I take, airplanes that I fly in, the weather, climate change, our monetary system, my 401K’s performance, everything. It really hit me when I started thinking about my own body. I don’t control whether my heart is going to keep working. I could get cancer. My knee could give out on me.

When I remember that, a funny thing always happens. I give up trying to work angles, trying to convince people of stuff, trying to squeeze my will and personality into every situation… and I just cruise along, happy and free. It still blows my mind that by surrendering, you find freedom. It’s so contradictory, isn’t it?

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:

HEARD AT MEETINGS…

"I'm on a whisky diet--I've already lost three days!"

(Credit: AA Grapevine, January 2005, from Anonymous)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

I went to a speaker meeting right when I first got sober, and the guy was an absolute wild man. It was one of the first speaker meetings I ever went to, and this was the first time I heard someone who was raw and unpolished and not trying to exude serenity. He had a remarkable story of recovery, but he wasn’t interested in cleaning up his story to sound all grown up. He was sober and had a strong program. But he talked about some of the dumb things he’s done in sobriety, which I certainly identify with, and he also talked a lot about how the party doesn’t end when you get sober.

My life is pretty great these days. But I go to bed and get up at pretty much the same time every day. I eat mostly the same things every week. I drive the same loop of places. I have the same job, the same car, the same family. I go to 5-7 meetings a week. No drinking. No drugging. No insanity. It can start to feel a little safe and boring.

It’s not actually boring, of course. I’ve never laughed more. I’ve never been more in tune with my wife and kids. I have more sobriety now than I ever have had. I pay my bills on time, so my electricity isn’t shut off and my cars aren’t repossessed. But there is a voice in my head that still whispers, “Man, I should do something bad and exciting. Life is getting a little too predictable right now.”

That’s a delusion. It’s not true at all. But it’s maybe the thing my addiction pushes on the hardest and I need to realize and re-realize my vulnerability on that point. The best way to realize that on a regular basis? Hear from people who are partying in life more than ever in sobriety. The speaker I mentioned earlier was going to concerts, flailing around in mosh pits, flying all over the world, dating lots of people … some of that is not for me, and I didn’t find all of it to be particularly spiritual. But it worked for him, and he did such a good job explaining why hurting his hand jumping around sober in mosh pits might sound idiotic… but that he’d rather be doing that than fighting security at a concert and then not be able to find his car as he projectile-vomited in the parking lot from drinking too much.

I love that in sobriety, we’re all here because we’re not all there. I used to think I would have to stop having fun, shut up and become a monk. Not true. I’ve gravitated toward a bunch of screwballs and renegades and I love it.

The moral of the story: Sobriety is a party. There’s no jello shots or keg stands. But I can still be a wild man. A spiritual wild man.

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:

"I woke up one morning and realized that I had a great future behind me."

(Credit: AA Grapevine, January 2005, by Anonymous)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

I’ve written about this topic before, but I think about it once a week, sometimes more. It’s a section from the book Living Sober, in the chapter called “Watching out for anger and resentments.” Here is the LINK.

The section goes like this:

Here is a look at some of the shapes and colors anger seems at times to arrive in:

Intolerance… Contempt… Envy… Hatred… Snobbishness… Rigidity… Cynicism… Discontent… Tension… Sarcasm… Self-pity… Malice… Distrust… Anxiety… Suspicion… Jealousy.

Man, I love that list. Anger is so tricky and complex, and I have to look under a lot of rocks to figure out where it comes from. Fear is the biggest reason I get mad. Selfishness is also a big part of it. But those 16 descriptions are so intriguing to me because the older I get, the more I find anger disguised as one of those 16.

Now, some of those words are super obvious. I think intolerance, contempt, hatred and malice are all pretty self-explanatory. I don’t know how hard it is to connect the dots between “I hate Fred” and “Oh, I might have a resentment against Fred that I need to look at.”

There’s really only one on that list that I don’t know if I agree with. The word “anxiety” has taken on some new meaning since Living Sober was written. I certainly understand why it’s on there—when I am anxious about something, it usually means there’s some kind of fear or insecurity or frustration going on that I should take a look at. The reason I push back a little bit on it is that I have people in my life who have a medical diagnosis as having anxiety-related issues, and it’s not something a Fourth Step would help them on. It’s an actual condition that needs medication or some other kind of treatment. So I kind of put that one off to the side.

But I wanted to drill down on a couple of the ones listed there.

Self-pity: It’s such a wild concept to me that feeling sorry for myself might be rooted in anger and resentment. But I have found that to be true! When I am doing the whole “Oh, poor me” thing, I am usually angry or scared, or both.

Tension: I’m not quite sure I totally understand the meaning of tension in this context. But I have found places in my life where my anger leads to tension. For instance, the “silent treatment” thing that many people do, including me, is usually anger being channeled into creating a frostiness between me and someone else. At least in my case, it’s usually not a healthy boundary or anything that might be defensible. It’s that I want to freeze you out for a bit and teach you a lesson, which it often petty and angry.

Snobbishness: I think most people would nod their heads and agree that snobbishness is rooted in anger. But I also think most people probably don’t always spot the times in their life when they’re looking down on someone else, making snide comments, rolling their eyes, etc. I have two teenagers that live at my house, so I spot it on an hourly basis… and it makes me better able to spot when I do it myself.

Rigidity: Man, this one really is a problem for me. I have been sober for quite some time now, and I have a very good life, with professional success and enough money to pay my bills. So I think I know what I’m doing. I think when I plan something, it’s probably a great plan, so everybody should just shut up and do it.

Oh my god, I can’t even tell you how dumb that is. It creates so much pain and anger and annoyance at others, usually people I love.

An easy example—one I have written about on this newsletter before—is traveling with my family. My wife will ask me what time I think we should leave to drive four hours to see family. I’ll say 9:30 am, knowing full well we will not be leaving at 9:30. I say 9:30 because I want to be sure we leave by 10. But then it’s 10:05 and I am shaking my head, slamming bags into the car, sighing… just being a rigid a*****e. And it almost never matters. We never go to Pennsylvania with a firing squad standing by if we don’t get there by a specific time. It’s free-floating and flexible, and it’s just me being rigid, which generates a bunch of frustration and anger. It really is idiotic.

As you can probably guess, I just got back from a family trip where I spent the entire first part of it consumed by annoyance because we left later than I had decreed. I did spend some time praying for the people who made us late, and I also spent some time embarrassed that I needed to pray for people for… what? Forgetting their cell phone charger as I sat in a running car? What is the freaking point of that?

Ugh. Still work to do, huh?

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:

THREE OR FOUR AA members were often tying up the floor at meetings. One day, we heard a new voice from the back pipe up and say, "Can I have my dollar back if I don't get to share?"

(Credit: AA Grapevine, December 2004, by George W. of Lakeview, Arizona)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe

If you want to subscribe to LOL Sober, hit the purple button below. I’m mostly publishing free pieces right now, but paid subscribers do have access to monthly premium pieces—such as THIS comedy special about my 10 favorite addiction/sobriety jokes!

I just handed off my car to my oldest daughter and I figured I would clean it out first before officially giving her the keys.

Oof.

The car wasn’t horrible. But it was very dusty, with clutter everywhere, old CDs, some mysterious stains. I spent a good 90 minutes scrubbing and vacuuming, and I felt pretty good handing it off to her at that point.

But it is yet another reminder about being messy. I am a recovering slob, in addition to the booze and drugs. Every six weeks or so, I look around and realize there is crap piled up around me.

And I have a fight within myself all the time about being a slob. One part of me says, “Who cares? What’s the big deal with having a messy room and a car that has some trash on it?”

The other part of me hates walking past my messy side of my bedroom, past the desk piled up with papers and other riffraff, and out to my car that has receipts and crap laying all over it. And that part of me really hates when I catch myself saying, “God, I should clean this mess up. Eh, maybe tomorrow.”

You can probably guess which voice wins out most of the time. I will give myself some credit, that I don’t think I am gross any more. There’s no old food with bugs crawling around in it or horrible smells. It’s piled up laundry, old papers that I should file or get rid of—basically, clutter.

But I have found that if my life is messy, my spiritual condition is messy. If my spiritual condition is messy, my whole life gets messy. If my whole life is messy, my sobriety is in jeopardy. Then I’m in huge trouble.

It speaks to two broader points in my life. One is that being messy isn’t great… but the procrastination thing is even worse. Anything I know I should do and can do that I don’t do… that’s a very icky feeling. I actually find it to be worse than the initial problem because you end up feeling bad about the mess and then bad about yourself for letting it slide.

The second one is that messiness is an infectious disease. I never have had a disgusting car and a really clean life. I’ve never had mounds of crap all over my house… but been serene and content. There’s always a connection between my literal messiness and my figurative messiness. If I make my bed and clean out my car, it usually means I am on top of things and I’m not procrastinating. It usually means I am a better husband, better dad, better worker, better neighbor and a person with a clean car. When my room is a dumpster and my car smells like an old gym towel, it usually means I’m showing up late to things, forgetting to respond to emails, saying “I’ll scoop the litterboxes tomorrow” and a bunch of other behaviors that don’t serve me or anybody else well.

So… that noise you hear is my paper shredder firing up in the background. Time to do some cleaning. Goddamn it.

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:

HEARD AT MEETINGS

"I would rather go through life sober, believing I am an alcoholic, than go through life drunk, trying to convince myself that I am not."

(Credit: Grapevine, November 2004, by Anonymous)

Please spread the word to a sober friend! Find me on Substack… or Twitter… or Facebook… or Instagram… or YouTube. And introducing my web site, LOLsober.com.

This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit nelsonh.substack.com/subscribe