Slick Exploits Loopholes Like a Corporate Tax Accountant

I was back in college and sober several years when I told a classmate, “I don’t even think about drinking anymore.” I got the stock answer, “If you aren’t thinking about drinking, you aren’t thinking about not drinking either.” That irritated me, but I let it pass. I went on to say that about the only thing I could think of that might get me to drink would be the sudden news that both of my parents had been killed in a car accident. He responded, “Sounds like you are setting yourself up to fail.” That was more than I was willing to listen to at that point, so I soon excused myself and walked off. 

Another trait of mine, besides blowing off useful input, is my tendency to plow over resentments. I now often, slowly and reluctantly, use that to reevaluate advice that irritates me. As I “argued” with the man in my mind, I played out some scenarios.

First of all, my parents were in their early retirement and traveling a lot to visit family and to winter in warmer climes. My mother was driving through Memphis when they encountered a sudden slippery bridge deck. Cars were going sideways around her. She focused on driving her own car and crossed safely, but another car could have smashed into theirs, killing them both. So, my excuse for drinking was not a far-fetched, “never gonna happen,” scenario.

Further, why was such a tragedy limited to my parents? I have five siblings.  What if one of them suddenly died? I have a lot of close relations and good friends I could suddenly lose. What if I suffer any type of major disappointment? 

It appears that the loophole that I pictured as the size of the eye of a needle is actually big enough to drive a semi through.

Further still, it is obvious that I am going to have a major disappointment at some point, so I better have a plan to deal with such. “If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail.” (Franklin, B or Churchill, W)

Running the original scenario through my brain again, I fast-forwarded through the consequences that would follow if I did drink.  I would probably start with a couple of shots of tequila. Nasty stuff, but the effect is reliable and instantaneous. Once the fear of an anxiety-provoked heart attack was quelled, I’d no doubt talk myself into a six-pack, with that growing into a 12-pack by the time I got back to the store. The next day, I’d be likely to continue even though I already knew I’d been lucky to escape into recovery once and probably wouldn’t be likely to free myself again.

One might wonder why I didn’t remember that in the first place and instantly reject my problem-riddled plan for relief. The answer is both simple and complex. Quite simply, if an addict’s behavior was logical, it wouldn’t be an addiction. Given that the human brain is the most complex structure/system in the known universe, the underlying reasons for addiction are so complicated that no one yet totally understands the why and how.

Additionally, I thought about what my selfish search for instant relief meant to others who would be getting the same terrible news.  “Your parents were killed in an accident and, by the way, Pete’s drunk.”

“Isn’t that special?” (Carvey, D as The Church Lady)

Let’s review. I’m devastated by the news, blood draining from my face, heart racing, brain in a state of shock, my entire being focused on who I perceive to be the most important person in the known universe: me. How do I stop monitoring my own heart rate, which only speeds it up and shift that focus off myself? I need to call my sister, break the news to her and provide and get support. Then contact my brothers. Focus on their pain and sorrow and not on my own.

Another example of the benefits of moving myself out of the “Center of the Universe”:

Since that day, my father has died.  In the company of my family, I watched him gasp for his last breath. It was not sudden, but it was painful. I had no, none, zero urge to drink. Or use anything as I had closed all those loopholes as well. 

I also have the satisfaction of knowing that not only did I not become an additional burden to the ones I love, but I was able to be there for them in their grief.