"You can't get real joy out of a fake life"

In recovery, we can often see the bad things in our lives and have a desire to be rid of them. Beginning with alcohol and drugs, we practice abstinence from things that tear us down. For many years, I thought if I identified my "issues" and resolved them, then that would be as good as life gets. As I read the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, I kept running into the word "joy." I wondered about it, recognized it as a good thing, but never felt it. On page 132, Alcoholics Anonymous says: "We absolutely insist on enjoying life." On the next page, it says: "We are sure God wants us to be happy, joyous, and free."

I wondered what I was missing. I prayed about it, and the thought came to me: "You can't get real joy out of a fake life." I realized that by not doing a Fifth Step, I was perpetuating a false sense of who I was. My admission was on the level of "Well, I've done some things wrong," but I was never specific. In the chapter, "Into Action," I read:
"More than most people, the alcoholic leads a double life. He is very much the actor. To the outer world he presents his stage character.... He wants to enjoy a certain reputation, but he knows in his heart he doesn't deserve it." (p. 73)

As recovering people, we have things that we have done and things that have been done to us that range from embarrassing to traumatic. Shame leads us to hide those things. However, it is the very act of hiding the regrettable parts of our lives that blocks our joy. The creation of a false life that doesn't include our wrongs, mistakes and shameful moments appears to make us look good, but we still are divided and hurt inside.

Taking inventory, reconciling the past
This past year, at age 55,1 experienced joy at Christmastime - for the first time. My childhood home was angry and violent at Christmas, and my desire as an adult was to put it behind me. However, if we put things behind us, they are uniquely positioned to bite us in the rear end. I helped create a merry Christmas in my adult home, especially for the children, but I sat there, joyless, hiding who I was, what 1 had done, and what had been done to me.

So, I took my inventory and talked out loud about what I had found around Christmas, both the things that were done to me by drunk and angry people and the things I did to others while drunk and angry By telling the truth, the power of the past to damage the present was broken.

My home had been pleasant for my wife and children at Christmas for many years, but not for me. I seemed to have what was needed for joy: home, wife, two daughters and their husbands, and three grandchildren. Once I had admitted the past, and my part in it, I could finally experience joy in this holiday.

This year I welcomed our nine family members joyfully, as friends. I finally felt the Merry Christmas that I'd wished for others. Because I have spoken the truth about evil, I can welcome and celebrate the good.

John M.
Appeared in the Hazelden Voice, Winter 2005 Vol.10 No.1
Copyright 2005 by Hazelden Foundation