Hurricanes. Blizzards. Pandemics. Power failures. Heat waves. Arctic Freezes. Vacations. Holidays. Natural disasters. Man-made disasters. Imaginary disasters. For alcoholics and addicts, there’s always an excuse to suspend the rules.
A friend called last week to say that he had recently quoted me in Forbes and Entrepreneur magazines. The subject of his article was the dangers of loan fraud related to Covid-19 disaster relief. The quote: “Beware of the belief that the rules are suspended in times of emergency.” Apparently the responses have been overwhelming.
Having been raised a good Catholic, I gave up drinking every year for Lent. I was convinced it was proof that I couldn’t be an alcoholic. But I was also Irish. Well, half Irish. And popular opinion was that if you were Irish you got a pass on Saint Patrick’s Day. One year I got kicked out of a bar after the parade for smashing a glass in a chugging contest. It was broad daylight but we moved on to the next pub and I have virtually no memory of what happened after that. This was a month into “not drinking”.
For those who remember, the 2000 presidential election was the closest in U.S. history. As the “too close to call” broadcasts continued, the bar where we had gathered to watch the results kicked us out and we headed to a friend’s for what would prove to be an all-nighter. Out came the cocaine. I was 8 months sober. I still have no idea how I extricated myself but at 4:30 a.m. when Florida announced a recount, I dragged myself to safety. I’ll never know how I did it, but the bigger question is what was I doing there in the first place? Historic moments. Unprecedented times. Celebrations. Commiserations.
Finally, I often feel that the rules don’t apply when I’m traveling. Something about airports and airplanes reeks of temptation, especially during a travel delay. I’m sure thousands of attempts at sobriety have ended in an airport bar. One of the common reasons for hiring a sobriety coach is to escort a discharge patient from rehab to home. Having a sober companion to navigate those bars and to stay close on the flight can be invaluable, especially with the stress of returning to everything that was put on hold pre-recovery.
I’m traveling now. My dad was hospitalized outside of Chicago with serious cardiac issues and I headed to LaGuardia in fearful anticipation. Pandemic rules actually saved me; most airport bars were closed and no alcohol was served on the flight. But I’m staying at Dad’s where there’s a pretty enticing wine collection. And seductive drinks are everywhere as I dine out with other family members...after a full day at the hospital.
Back to Lent. 20 years ago on the first day of Lent I gave it all up yet again. But something was different. Alcohol and drugs weren’t working any more. So this time I asked for help. And I got support. And I admitted I was powerless. And one day at a time, I stopped.
And I stopped suspending the rules.
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