Surrender

“Surrender, Surrender, but don’t give yourself away, hey, hey”

When I was introduced to recovery and the 12 steps, I only knew that surrender was the name of my favorite Cheap Trick song. I had been hustling and grinding through life for forty years with no clue how to admit that I was struggling or how to ask for help. There was no way I would willingly surrender to anything, or so I thought.

I found recovery and sobriety the old-fashioned way, I was tricked into it. That’s right, on September 13, 2012, I found myself in a hotel room in Boston, MA because my friend Stephen had “left his wallet in the room”. It seems he left five of my siblings, two of my friends, and an interventionist in the room too. They let me know that they loved me, they were worried about me, and that my alcoholism and addiction impacted their lives too. I was angry for about three minutes and then I exhaled, slumped into my chair, and gave up. I guess that was my first surrender.

They offered me some help and suggested I call a place called The Retreat in Minnesota. I had never been to an alcohol treatment center or recovery program before. I had also never been to an Alcoholics Anonymous or 12-Step meeting. But I accepted their offer and made the call. I guess that was my second surrender. On my way to the airport, I told my friend Stephen that I would go to The Retreat but “I’m not doing any of that God stuff”. So maybe it was a partial surrender.

In my first week at The Retreat, I was asked to turn my will over to a higher power of my understanding. I was unwilling to do that at first. I was afraid of being indoctrinated. I was angry at the religion I was raised in and I wanted nothing to do with God or spirituality. At the same time, I was also watching the Retreat volunteers coming in to bring meetings and workshops to the guests. These volunteers were sober and happy. They were also very kind and compassionate. They started sharing their stories and their paths to recovery. Something clicked in my soul, I looked at those volunteers and thought “I want that”. I asked them what they did to remain sober. Many of them said they try to have an open mind, work with a sponsor, go to meetings, and volunteer their time to help other alcoholics and addicts. They suggested I just trust the process and that I would eventually find my own understanding of a higher power. I decided I could try that too. It seemed better than the alternative. Yet another surrender.

In my second week at The Retreat, Dr. Mark who was working as a Retreat Assistant, asked me what my plans were once I completed the program. I said I was going back to Boston to work at the bar, of course. He lovingly pointed out that was a horrible idea, just with some more colorful language. He asked me what I had to lose by sticking around and going to St. Paul for sober living. I realized at that moment that I had nothing to lose. Even though the idea of sleeping on a twin bed and living with a bunch of dudes did not seem very appealing, I went and interviewed at a sober house. More surrender. I’ll talk more about my sober living experience at a later time. I’ll just say it was completely transformative and shaped my recovery in beautiful and surprising ways.

I realize now that all of these small surrenders have led me to where I am today. Today I surrender and I gladly give myself away. Today I have a sense of purpose. Today I am still sober. What could be better than that?