One of the men, speaking today, said something that cracked us all up. He said he was revising his resume and, when it came to assets, he put down delusional.
As funny as that struck me, it set me to thinking. Bill W. had something to say about delusions. In More About Alcoholism, he said, that the delusion we are other people, or presently may be, has to be smashed.
I remember back a few years ago that Blue Cross of Greater Washington was thinking about reorganization and a lot of jobs were on the line. Basically department heads and some departments. I was one of those who might have been a target. This threat went on for about two months. One day one of the saleswomen came to me and said she needed to have a private talk. We went into the library and she turned and said that she was worried about me. Now, she was not an alcoholic, so what she said had a lot of weight to it. She said that she had observed that I was trying to act normal. “You’re not normal,” she said, “You’re an alcoholic and I’m afraid you might drink if you keep this up.” Talk about a knockout punch, that was it. Right then, I could have put on my resume as an asset the word “delusional”. I had no idea I was acting that way, but she saw it, thank God. And, she was right.
Whatever gave me the idea that I was like other men? Other men, normal people, can drink with impunity. I can’t. Never could. Furthermore, I know that I’m wired wrong. I don’t think or react as they do. Never have, never could, and still can’t. I can associate with them and they don’t seem to feel that I’m any different than they are. But in their presence, I’m usually totally aware that something is different, especially when they’re having a drink.
As I was thinking, I became aware of how blessed I am. I’m surrounded by so many people like myself. Alcoholics. I see them and am in their presence almost everyday at meetings. I talk to them constantly. They are my friends and companions. They are also my sage counselors, who remind me of who and what I am. They keep me from sinking into the delusion that I am like other men, or presently may be. They invariably remind me that I can’t drink and their stories and examples allow me to identify what that difference is.
Like my bottom, I want to remember that day, when that young woman caught me up short and gave me a warning that I was on the way to a drink and I didn’t know it.