Step Thirteen
We tried to carry this message to other addicts because we were attracted to them physically.
The joy of giving is the essence of Step Thirteen. The Twelve Steps have provided us with so many wonderful rewards, we believe it is time to share them with others (especially to those whom we'd like to date). We go to meetings and try to spread the word to those new people who seem lost, helpless, and available.

It is an assumption that after having worked the Twelve Steps, our character defects will be in check. Our intuition combined with our new relationship with our Higher Power will certainly steer us clear of misguided, self-serving, or lustful enterprises. Sometimes our finely tuned ability to rationalize kicks in (when there's something we want), and we are able to justify: (a) why the person we're taking to coffee is just a friend, (b) that the meeting we're attending has really good speakers (which would explain our new hairstyle, clothes, and cologne/perfume), and, (c) why recommending a young attractive newcomer to a sponsor other than ourselves would be to deprive them of our excellent experience.

We conveniently put out of our minds accepted codes of ethics and behavior. We ignore the warnings and concerns of trusted recovering friends.We forget our rocky relationship histories. We relapse on love, and usually end up relapsing again and again. Unfortunately, we usually take the unsuspecting newcomer with us.

Step Fourteen
Having forgotten open-mindedness, we ignored the advice of professionals in the medical and scientific community.
The fact that we live in the twenty-first century is of little concern to us. Advances in medical science and addiction medicine are no substitute for these Steps we've been working. We keep on relapsing, and when experts suggest a drug like ReVia (naltrexone), we dismiss the advice because we don't want to take any drugs. We thrive on misinformation, paranoia, and the advice of our white-knuckling, dry drunk, "friends."

We keep relapsing because we're miserable. "If I feel like this sober, I might as well use," says the chronic relapser. But if a doctor suggests that we try an antidepressant, we decline the intervention, as that would be a sign of weakness. Plus, there are all those horrible side effects! We would rather be miserable and one step away from another relapse.

The pain and suffering of our past haunts us still despite our intensive Twelve Step work. We know that intensive psychotherapy would probably help, but it's expensive, and it's probably going to be emotionally painful. We have a choice to continue to suffer or suffer to heal. That word suffer is not easy to swallow, after all we've suffered enough. The only thing these mental health professionals want to do is diagnose and prescribe medications; we think will try the Steps again.

We keep relapsing. If alcohol is our drug of choice, we have the option to take Antabuse (Disulfiram). This seems like an awful drastic measure, almost draconian. Why would we take a drug that would make us sick if we drank? We can do that with drink alone! So we continue to try to control our alcohol use ourselves. Every morning we make a vow, and every night we take a drink. The insanity is overwhelming.

We ignore the extensive research on addiction. For instance, we won't spend too much time looking at what the National Institute on Drug Abuse has to say about nicotine. We smoke because "we can't quit everything at once!" We are anxious and can't sleep but won't give up our caffeine. We keep smoking pot because alcohol was our problem.

We hold onto the belief that alternative therapies, new medications, and new approaches in counseling are nothing more than fads. The Twelve Steps are all we need. We forget that while we were keeping journals, focusing on health, nutrition, wellness, and taking our meds our lives actually improved.

Step Fifteen
We forgot the first twelve steps-—our lives had become unmanageable.
Who cares to admit complete forgetfulness? Thanks to the miracles of the Twelve Steps we have our lives back. We forget this. We know we should be going to more meetings, but we're too busy to be concerned with that now.

Ah, the joy of recovery! For the first time in a long time our relationships with family and new friends are great! We've finally held down a job for more than a year. We're paying off our debts, getting in shape, and actually healing old wounds. We have more energy than we can imagine. We do more in a week than we used to do in a year while using.

Now that we're taking care of ourselves, we begin to make new goals for the future. We start taking some classes, we get more involved with our families, we plan vacations, explore new hobbies, and our calendars are full. When it comes down choosing between taking a class and our home-group meeting, we take the class. We forget to reschedule the meeting. The weekly meeting with our sponsor just won't work anymore on Thursdays because that's the night our coworkers go bowling. We reduce our support group attendance to once a week, then once a month, and then sporadically.

The support that was essential to help us turn our lives around, the program that provided us with salvation has now become an afterthought-almost inconvenient. Plus, we know what happens at those meetings anyway-"Been there, done that."

Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly, the unmanageability returns. Our character defects begin to bubble up again. Impatience with others, intolerance at work, the lust, the pride, the gluttony begin to surface. We are technically in relapse and we somehow forget how to fix it. The phone is as heavy as it was before we ever began the program. We are in trouble.

Wishing you good mental health. Dr. David Tews