The blogger, Steve E., Another Sober Alcoholic, wrote a great post yesterday about the act of humility involved in asking for help, specifically when seeking a sponsor.

Now, yours truly doesn’t have a sponsor, doesn’t go to the 12 step meetings. However, I employ many similar principles in my recovery. When using, I certainly wasn’t listening to anyone else, heck, I couldn’t even listen to my own “higher voice,” shrieking insistently, at times, that I was sick. How could I listen to you? Getting sober brought up a lot of embarrassment, because you know, under that tough, arrogant shell, I was sad that I had hurt so many people and really botched my personal life. Here, the value of  a sponsor. Pretty vicious cycle that newbies go through when committed to staying sober; a sponsor is your rock, your co-pilot perhaps. First we were reckless and unhealthy, though numb, and then through sober eyes we begin to recall all the tragedy, and that can be overwhelming.

The comment I left on  Steve’s blog got me thinking about that one pivotal moment that help me transition from secretly, resentfully wanting help, towards a person willing to get in touch with what I needed and acquire the necessary support. Recovery is great when we realize we are not alone. But we must take the steps to contribute to others, and that genuinely occurs when you allow yourself to receive. Another important lesson, my ability to serve was heightened when I accepted that others could treat me just as well, with no motive other than to help and love me.

I actually had been sober already for almost two years, but I was doing it all my way and mostly alone. Hey, it was working, but it could have been much, much better. I caught Lyme’s disease from a pesky little tick that attacked in my sleep–in just 8 hours that bugger passed along the worst sickness I’ve had yet. The tell-tale bulls eye showed up three weeks later, but I was determined that it would not enervate my performance.  As I walked home, up the little hill, exhaustion, the most exhaustion I’ve ever felt, kicked in. Oh my, it was horrible. A co-worker drove by and I said feebly, “Can you take me up the hill, to my house, please?”

Oh so pitiful. To be told No, that first time you really reach out–it’s shattering. My fault though. No one else. I plodded along in tears, this guy was too busy to help. Yea right. As I reached my home, two friends greeted me. They were waiting and they wanted to help. “What can we do for you?” I just cried and cried at first. What a breakthrough! I don’t like to cry in front of people either!

They read me stories until I feel asleep, they took my work shift at 6am, and they made sure I had a bounty of liquids and toast. That summer I learned to ask for what I need and now I encourage people to do that when I see they too are bound tight with the illusion of self-control.

When we do it alone, we’re only as strong as ourselves. And look where WE got US, in the past, by thinking WE had it ALL under control! It’s time to reach out!

*photo by Aaron Montoya