The Fourth Step

Now I sit with my list of all the people with whom I’m resentful in front of me. The first thing apparent is that, “This world and it’s people are often quite wrong.” (Alcoholics Anonymous).

I was not the cause of all the offences that occurred to me. In fact, there were times when I had nothing to do with it. I didn’t always make my father lose his temper. I didn’t make my mother run away. I didn’t make my brothers behave toward me and my parents the way they did. However, as the “Big Book” suggests, I was very well acquainted with this litany of ways in which I had been victimized and had never really looked at myself.

AA suggests that I use this list as a tool to look at me. Using the events as a guide, I needed to look at where I had been selfish, dishonest, and self-centered. Putting the other’s behavior aside, I had to look at what I had done prior to, during, and after the listed events.

I was surprised. Using my father as an example, I responded to him by stealing his money when he wasn’t looking, cutting school, treating my mother not too differently than he did, being physically abusive to my younger siblings, cheating in school, shoplifting, and a host of other behavior. The only thing I didn’t do was drink alcohol (but soon would). I was angry at him because he was a liar, a cheat, a thief. and physically and verbally abusive; and I was doing exactly the same thing.

I was thirty-two when I discovered the above about myself. I never once thought of myself in those terms. I didn’t think of my father in those terms either. I don’t believe I ever admitted to myself that I was angry at him and I know I didn’t want to be. I thought of myself as nice guy who had a tough life, and somehow the rules that apply to everyone else didn’t apply to me. Please understand that the last thought permeated my being at such depth that I couldn’t see that I was doing anything wrong. I was surviving. However, I did know that my life didn’t make sense. I was lonely, afraid, angry. There was an ever present feeling that there was something wrong with me, and I couldn’t make the connection that it had something to do with the way I lived my life. Extreme adversity is the only thing that made me look at me. The facts that my wife and three children lived in a twenty-by-twenty house with no running water; that the “smartest man in the world” worked for minimum wage on a chicken farm; and that I drove a 15-year-old pickup truck with no brakes were bearable. But, when my wife told me that she had had enough, that I needed to leave, that she didn’t want my children around me, it got my attention. That lifelong tormenting question, “What’s wrong with me?” needed an answer, and I needed it now.

The answer was in the information we have been talking about in this article and the last few issues of “Stepping Stone”. I think that one of the best feelings I ever had was admitting to myself that I had become everything I did not want to be. I had been told for my entire life that I needed to feel good about myself, that I needed to love myself more, that I needed to boost my self-esteem. I should do nice things for myself. And now, here I was, sitting with a friend and telling him all the rotten things I had done to people in my life. I admitted how and to whom I had been dishonest, selfish, self-seeking, unreliable, and irresponsible. It was like doing a difficult math problem. I don’t remember feeling badly when I finally figured out the answer. In fact I felt quite good. The same is true here. The answer is relief and release from anger, fear, anxiety, worry, and that feeling of uselessness.

This is not a psychological exercise. It has psychological benefits, but that’s not what it is. I admit (let in) the Truth (God). And the nature of the beast begins to change. Suddenly, the concern is not for me, but for the other. Suddenly I start to become responsible and reliable. Inexplicably, I want to tell the truth rather than lie. Life suddenly has meaning and purpose, and peace of mind, from life itself, becomes a reality.