A recent topic reminded me of one of my weakest links with the program, and that is my reluctance to socialize and/or to reach out. When I’m in a good place, I’ll happily go to breakfast with the mob or hang around after a meeting, but it’s much more common to find me scurrying out as soon as the meeting is over.

Someone recently asked me why, after a few years, I still didn’t have a sponsor. Well, mostly it’s because I’m sure a sponsor would try to make me do something. Anything. And there I’d be, out there. No thank you. I have made myself a promise (and shared it with others so it’ll be harder for me to avoid it) that if I relapse, I’ll get a sponsor on the way back in. Assuming I make it back.

Wow, this is depressing…

My father was raised in a particular form of Scandanavian Lutheranism, which can be summed up thusly:

Life is hard. Your job is to do the best you can, to do your duty, to shoulder the burden, to work hard, through whatever multiple adversities may afflict you. Then you will die, and God will casually say “eh, not good enough” and send you to hell.

And so I’ve spent most of my life believing that whatever I was doing, it wasn’t good enough. I’ve heard of something called “Imposter Syndrome,” (which I have in spades). That’s where you’re always expecting someone to tap you on the shoulder and say “what do you think you’re doing? You have no business doing that!”

And then there’s recovery, where I’ve been taught that we do things one day at a time. We work at building a sober history. As long as we’re taking a step away from a drink, instead of a step towards one, well, that’s good enough for today.

The point is to try, try hard. And know that if you keep trying, you’ll keep getting better. And it’s all good enough.

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” – Samuel Beckett