Day 62 - The Joys of Sobriety

There were a few comments floating around yesterday's blog. I should let it go as people will always think what they think and it's pointless constantly engaging. It becomes Like an argument by blog. Dull for most of the readers I should think. But the need to be right and justified is so strong yet ultimately futile and living in the problem. The right sober thing to do. The recovery thing to do is to respect other's opinions, be fair minded, shrug, say, 'live and let live' and move on.

But where is the fun in that?!!!

To finally put this to bed so I can move on, I wanted to pull up a couple of the comments and deal with the main beef that seems to have riled this particular reader.

Firstly someone commented that I may like to do a step 10, for all you non recovery people. Step 10 is a sort of spot inventory of yourself so you can quickly realise alcoholic behaviour and then make an apology if neccessary. It is, in essence a spiritual way of living. Designed to keep your behaviour on the right track.

It is NOT to point out in other people though. The step is - 'Continued to take moral inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it'. Dealing with that comment is simple. Err, I did my own inventory in the blog yesterday and I wasn't in the wrong. So what's there to admit? Case closed.

The comment smelt of recovery snobbery of the highest order - a beautiful textbook exponent of taking 'moral inventory of someone else and deciding they were in the wrong' - Precisely what I'm doing, except I'm not in denial I'm doing it. My first instinct is to point out what's wrong with you and the world and totally fail to see my own behaviour.

It's like a double insane whammy of denial. There is nothing worse than a recovery snob spouting recovery advice from a lofty moral high ground whilst displaying all the signs of arrogance and ugly character traits themselves. Precisely what I was accused of. A delicious irony. Thank you commentator!

I've never hidden by instinct I'm a self centred, ego maniac alcoholic who sees the faults in others not myself. This blog is highlighting the attempt to challenge these behavioural patterns in me, hold up a light to them, laugh at them and say it's OK to have these. Not to criticise and condemn people for having them. I only do that when they deny it. Changing behaviour is a long process learnt from experience of getting things wrong. My favourite chapter in the Big Book is called 'Spiritual Experience of the Education Variety'. Show me don't tell me.

The second part of the comment accused me of getting my friends to agree with me and bully the person who sent the mail. What the fuck? Talk about persecution complex and playing the victim. Fuck me are they reading something different from the rest of the world?

I didn't ask anyone to agree, I didn't ask anyone to do anything other than read the mail and give me their honest opinion. Sometimes I don't trust myself and need objective opinions. Where the fuck ganging up came from merely highlights this person's incredible chip on both shoulders. When you need a real opinion other than your own you take it to trusted sources, say nothing and let them decide. That's called impartial feedback. I even sent it to my own mother who's the wisest, straightest shooter there is and always calls me out when I've fucked up. She said, 'clearly that person has their own issues and it's triggered something off in them. They have a right to their own opinion but they're not right with it. Don't worry,"

Apparently I am getting rinsed here because I had the temerity and shocking ego to thank God for looking after me in 3 near death experiences. I know awful isn't it. Well worth sparking a debate and argument about.

I really wouldn't mind the abuse if I did a blog saying racism is great, or how the Radio DJ's from the 70's have had a harsh deal. Or how people who don't believe in God are misguided. Then I would deserve abuse. But I didn't.

I said I was looked after and didn't mention the guy who died in the accident this all of a sudden means by this person's words I am an ego maniac, narcissist in ego with a very simple grasp of a 'pocket god'. Clearly this person is a spiritual giant, never makes mistakes and is a puritanical saint. Oh and an intellectual heavyweight.

Well, we know that when people feel bad about themselves they try and put another down. Lord knows I've done enough of it in my life. And if you think I am in denial because that's what I've done in my blogs yesterday and today, too fucking right I'm putting them down. Why? Because they can fuck off that's why.

I don't think that the guy who died in my accident wasn't looked after by God because he died and I didn't. I don't feel a sense of superiority because I escaped and he didn't. Who's to say we only have one life. What happens if we have several and we have spiritual guides (which I choose to call God) and my time wasn't up In this life cycle but it was for him? We all have finite time. It is very common that people with near death experiences, let alone three, develop a strong faith and spiritual belief, usually over a long period of time.

Who the fuck is it any ones right to question or belittle anyone Else's belief? That kind of spiritual arrogance and hierarchy is pure ego. My grasp of God is better than yours type shit. I have no time for that. There is enough of it in organised religion. That really is ugly and anyone that does it to me or anyone else for that matter can go and fuck themselves with a massive shitty stick.


I suffered 6 months of hell after that accident. The guy was speeding and not wearing a seat belt and sped across my side of the road and ploughed straight into the milk float I was driving. He died on impact. By his own hands. Did he deserve to die? Of course not. Did his kids deserve to grow up without a dad? No. But he did it. His choice was to drive like a mad man. His choice was not to wear a seat belt. Harsh repercussions but these kind of accidents happen every day. I was a 17 year old kid who had to testify in front of his widow and parents, with their solicitor asking me questions trying to make out it was my fault. It wasn't. Should I therefore carry his soul around with me for the rest of my life?

Did I harbour resentments? Too fucking right I did. Did it fuck me up emotionally? Dam straight. Did I have guilt complex about surviving and he didn't? Yes. For ages. Do I think about him now? No I don't. Do I feel for his family? Of course I fucking do you moron. Does he deserve to be held up as a victim and martyr? Not for me to judge that one. I'll leave that to puritanical misguided others.

But The inside Job is about me. My head. My disease. My recovery. My ego. My changes. My battle. My life.

The only conclusion I can come to, is that it wasn't my time. It's up to me if I choose to feel that was an act of God. We can feel anything we like it is our right as human beings. It is not acceptable in my opinion for anyone else to condemn our feelings. (Don't worry the irony is not lost on me that is exactly what I'm doing in this blog. But they started it - see how childish my ego is when I let it roam as I'm doing in this blog) If I was preaching then fair enough. But I wasn't. Looking back I was lucky. I couldn't accept for ages I lived. I felt guilty. They now call it post traumatic stress disorder. That doesn't mean I'm portraying myself as a 'poor me' victim. Nor am I gloating that I lived. Someone even suggesting that I think is insane and highly offensive.

I think it highlights more that there is something deeply wrong in them than me if I'm honest. And if nothing else I truly hope they go to more meetings and hold the mirror up to their own self and have a good rummage inside as I'm doing to myself.

I certainly believe I am in different life cycles and passing through this one. I am not chosen. I am not different. I am not superior. We are all equal. We are just us. We all have a right to believe in our own conceptions of spirit or God or religion. Mine is neither better nor worse than yours. Mine is just mine. I think our little commentators would do well to remember that.

On a more joyful note I experienced a true joy of sobriety last night.

After 12 years sobriety, I walked into Istanbul Kebab King and bought a large Donner Kebab...sober. Oh yes stark raving sober.

I've come a long way. In the old days a Dirty Doner at midnight on a Friday would have meant a very different experience. This one was fat, greasy and dirty. In fact not too dissimilar to the old days. Difference is this one only cost £4.90. See, I am improving.

Together We Are Stronger (although I love that comment from yesterday who said, 'together we are stranger' - so true judging by this week's feedback)

Nicholas Evans