Without knowing it, I developed a whole slew of bad habits in my first 47 years before God graced me with a moment of clarity that led me to AA. I was a bundle of character defects, but they didn't seem like defects at all, more like "who I was." I never really thought to question most of my behaviors. After all I was a pretty good guy, winning at the game of life. Oh sure, there were occasional hiccups: a couple of 502s, nights in jail, flunking out of college, a divorce, bankruptcy, business failure, and the inability to sustain a any kind of meaningful relationship with another human being, but hey, none of these things were really my fault, just bad luck.
The way I coped with my fears around the three Esses -- sex, security, society -- was to develop a manner of living that was dishonest, self-seeking and resentful. I didn't set out to have this kind of negative life. It just developed. I didn't really have a choice in the matter. I needed to think the way I thought and act the way I acted. I needed to get drunk every night to make this dysfunctional life "work."
What I recognize today as character "defects" back then were really character "defenses" -- my way of trying to protect my frail ego against future pain that was always just around the corner.
Then I was led to the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous and I quit drinking, but I still have the bad habits because I still have the ISM - alcoholic thinking and alcoholic feelings -- that cause me to have negative, fearful reactions to the people and events in my life. Recovery to me is about changing my reactions to life. But the problem is I can't fix me. I've tried and I can't. When I practice the Twelve Steps, I make a space for God to come in and do His thing. He can.
Step 10 is about me watching me like
a hawk. It's about having a little, miniature little me sitting on
my shoulder watching me dispassionately as I go through my day, not judging
me but reporting when I'm practicing old thinking or behavior.
Sometimes, if he's not on coffee break, miniature me warns me that I'm
about ready for another childish emotional outburst or he suggests that
I check a slippery motive. Then I can catch myself before saying
or doing something I just have to make amends for later.