It's Not Working Anymore

At any time of day and on a daily basis, if necessary, you can find them. In union halls, church basements, nondescript 'clubs', and in homes they meet. You'll learn that they are one of the largest self-supporting groups in the world to so frequently gather for a single purpose, and one of the most successful at learning how to cope with, and avoid their common enemy. they are an eclectic group of individuals who share the same nightmare, have felt the same self-loathing, and have usually destroyed the same aspects of their lives. they are the members of Alcoholics Anonymous, and they are many, and they are brave. At their meetings you'll hear them all say these same words once they realize who, and what, they are: "It doesn't work for me anymore."

After having attended about sixty of these meetings, I began to hear what these dedicated people were saying. No matter what the topic, or 'step', was being discussed, one or more of the speakers would say "that it wasn't working for me anymore." At first, I disregarded this statement because I didn't understand, but gradually, it began to sink in.

Once I fully understood what this contagious comment implied, I was fearful, enlightened, and, strangely, joyous! For what these words meant to me was: I couldn't function as I once did while drinking, and it wasn't fun anymore.

The very next meeting that I attended, I found myself speaking the following words to the same people who had helped me find my way.

"You start out drinking so that you won't be so shy, or boring, or so dreadfully practical. In the beginning, you feel like the booze is making you the type of person that you always wanted to be, and all is well. Then one day it occurs to you that your friends don't seem to want to go out drinking with you as often as they once did, so you think, 'the hell with them, I've got friends at the bar.' Going to work in the mornings seems to get harder, and though you go, your performance suffers. Even after your wife of eight years divorces you, and weeps for you because of what you've become, you don't listen, because she's wrong, just like all your friends were.

You've alienated yourself from all the people who really love you and you begin to have legal and financial problems, not to mention that you feel like hell. A DWI here, a DWI there, to you, it's no big deal. When the authorities take your driver's license away for ten years you start going to mandatory A.A. meetings, yet you still refuse to listen. Oh sure, you participate in the meeting discussions, and you even admit that drinking has caused you some problems, but you don't buy it inside. After awhile you resent going to the meetings and you resent the people attending them because they're losers, but you're not. You continue to attend the meetings though.

If you're lucky, like me,one night, while you're drinking, you start thinking about some of the comments you've heard at those 'stupid meetings.' You start to realize that you're slurring your words long before your drinking buddies do, ....if they do. You realize that you're having a hard time carrying on a conversation with someone because you're too drunk, ....again, and you wished you would have switched to plain Coke an hour ago. You realize that you want to go home earlier than you used to because you're ready to pass out now, and basically, you never used to feel this bad.....this early. You realize that this drinking that you've done for so many years is no longer any fun, that it's not making you less boring, but more disgusting, and less desirable. Then finally, you realize, that all those people that you hurt, that loved you, so many years before but refused to go down with you, were right, and you know that it's time to make a choice."

A.A. is, by far, the most successful program available, and it's the most accessible. However, crisis centers and hospitals in your area can steer you to other alcohol rehabilitation programs. So, if any of the above mentioned scenarios apply to you, then maybe 'it isn't working for you anymore.'

(c)1995 J. A. Henn