“To The Addict Who Still Suffers, Magnolia Wood, North Carolina” © Stu Jenks 2021, 50 inches tall, $150
Price: $150, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at stujenks@gmail.com or Facebook message me, if you would like to purchase one of my pieces. Payments can be made with Paypal, Venmo or credit card with Square. All pieces are signed with its title, and can be hung from the wall. Love y'all, Stu.
[Nothing I write here on this site is the opinion of any 12 Step group or world service organization. They are only mine. Yes, I'm violating a Tradition or two by posting this, but, in this time of social media, it doesn't appear the Traditions matter was much as they used to think. I can still hurt AA and CA with my opinions but I'm truly trying not to do that. Anyway, I speak for myself, no one else.]
In 1985, after having been sober for around 6 months, I told my therapist Dan Mayercek that I wanted to write a book about my life. He laughed loudly. I pouted.
“Every addict wants to write a book,” he said. “I’d wait on that.”
I pouted some more.
In 2012, I wrote a recovery, post-apocalyptic novel, Step Zero, set in the year 2076. That book and the three others in the series featured recovery and recovering folk but it was mostly a tale about how hope and love can grow even in the worst of times. I do think I got the 12 step meetings right in the books, but the Step Zero series became more about the characters’ lives and struggles and not just about their recovery from addiction.
So here I am, in North Carolina in 2021. Over the past couple of years, I’ve made a bunch of walking sticks and other wall pieces, honoring friends, family and other people I admire. One of those sticks is for the co-founder of Alcoholics Anonymous, Bill W.
And then a dangerous thing happened. I thought I might have something to say. I have been sober for 36 years, don’t you know (doesn’t mean I know anything) and I have worked in the recovery field for over 25 years as a therapist. (There, I’ve learned some things, or at least I think I have.)
Here’s how it gets complicated. If I was simply a counselor sharing my opinions, that’s fine, but I’m also a member of Alcoholics Anonymous and Cocaine Anonymous and publicly, I’m not even supposed to say I’m a member. But I just did. Nothing, nothing, I say here is the opinion of any 12 Step fellowship as a whole. It’s just what I think and what I think I know about recovery. And by the time the sun goes down, I may have changed my mind on some things, so take all of this with a container of salt.
So here goes:
Below is my assessment of the 12 Steps. I use the plural ‘we’ instead of the singular ‘I’ because that's how the original 12 Steps were written. This is supposed to be funny but I also believe it’s true.
The 12 Steps In 60 Seconds by Stu Jenks.
Step One: When we drink alcohol or do drugs or whatever, our lives go completely to hell and all rational decision-making goes straight out the window. We’re screwed.
Step Two & Three: God, or something greater than ourselves, can help us become unscrewed. We choose our own ideas about God. God Is Love will work for instance.
Steps Four & Five: People can help us too. And we might as well take a good hard look at yourselves while we’re at it.
Steps Six & Seven: There’s going to be other stuff we’re going to have to work on throughout our sober lives. Forgive ourselves as best we can. Forgive others too.
Steps Eight & Nine: There’s a bunch of people out there who would really appreciate a sincere apology from us. Commit to being a better person in the future. Recovery is not simply about not drinking or using or whatever. It’s about being better.
Steps Ten, Eleven & Twelve: Keep doing what we’ve been doing up to this point. Continue to be sweet. Give more to others. Be willing to change. Try to be happy. Oh. And don’t drink alcohol or use drugs or whatever, while you doing all the above.
“We’re here and we’re free” is the motto of Cocaine Anonymous. We are free from cocaine and all mood altering chemicals and it doesn’t cost a thing to be a member. We’re also physically here for you too, from Los Angeles to Cape Town, South Africa. We are all here to help. We truly are.
I’m not an 12 Step fundamentalist. I believe much has been learned in the treatment of addiction and mental health since Bill wrote the Big Book in the mid 1930’s. To paraphrase the popular AA speaker, Bob Earll, “I’m not going to get brain surgery from a doctor who, the last book he read on the subject was written in 1935.” That being said, the simplicity and brevity of the 12 Steps are a marvelous spiritual path that deepens with each passing year in sobriety. And I’m really happy that the surgeon who took out my prostate in 2020 had a robotic video game as a tool, not just a sharp knife like how they did that surgery 20 years ago.
I’m grateful that when I got sober in the mid 1980’s, the concept of toxic family shame and the importance of owning and sharing one’s feelings was at the forefront of psychotherapy. To be blunt, if I didn’t learn from Dan, Levi and other therapists I saw, how to identify and express my angers, fears, shame, guilt, and sadnesses, and how that related to my family of origin and what I experience as a child, I don’t think I would be sober today, but less be joyful. And if I were sober without psychotherapy, I would probably be very stuck, miserable and more than a little suicidal. I have my difficulties now but I’m not hopeless at all. I’m reasonable happy most of the time, and I think I make other people happy too. To quote another AA member from years ago, “I didn’t get sober to be a doormat and to be miserable.”
OK, that's it for now. More sober musings will go on my site in the future. Unless the internet goes crazy over what I've just said. I sure hope it doesn't.
Love and light, Stu.
#totheaddictwhostillsuffers, #stujenks, #extendedfamilyseries, #12stuff