Self-pity is probably something many have struggled with at various times throughout their life. But for an alcoholic or addict of any kind, it’s something that often seems to plague us, especially when our disease is active or when we are early on in our recovery from it. In fact, an excerpt from Bill’s story in the Alcoholics Anonymous Book sums this up quite nicely and it reads as follows:
“No words can tell of the loneliness and despair I found in that bitter morass of self-pity. Quicksand stretched around me in all directions. I had met my match. I had been overwhelmed. Alcohol was my master.”
While these words speak specifically to Bill’s problem with alcohol, I can more than attest to how they apply to all other addictions and various other life circumstances as well, given that many of the things I ever succumbed to always led to self-pity and depression becoming my most trusted companions.
Even after I became clean and sober from alcohol and drugs, Bill’s words continued to ring true to me for years and years. But that’s mostly because I kept trying to handle my life through self-will and control. And the more I kept trying to handle my life through self-will and control, the more I came into the recovery meeting rooms talking about how miserable I was and how bad my depression was getting. And the more I came into the recovery rooms talking about how miserable I was and how bad my depression was getting, the more it seemed to draw in willing participants who would cosign my sob stories. And the more I seemed to draw in willing participants who would cosign my sob stories, the more it enabled me to remain sitting in my steaming pile of crap. And the more I was enabled to remain sitting in my steaming pile of crap, the more I grew self-piteous and depressed. In short, I never got better, not one bit. I only grew worse.
You know that old saying that misery loves company? Well it’s true, as I consistently surrounded myself with those living in their own steaming piles of crap solely because it made me feel better in a very sick way. But eventually, living this way never panned out. Instead, it only led me to the brink of suicide and landed me on heavy-duty medications.
The only solution I found that’s been able to keep me away from living a life of self-pity has been the 12 Steps. It’s through them I was able to discover a Higher Power who helped me to find a lot more gratitude in life. Now I don’t come into the recovery meetings with self-pity and sob stories. I come into them with experience, strength, and hope to offer others.
So my point is this. It’s pretty easy to live in misery especially given how you’ll most likely always find someone who will sit in it with you. But whether you’re an active addict, a recovering one, or even not one at all, it’s truly quite unhealthy for you to keep living that way. Find a support group and begin to do the work there as to why you continue to live in that bitter morass of self-pity because in the long run, you’ll probably feel a whole heck of a lot better…
Peace, love, light, and joy,
Andrew Arthur Dawson
This isn’t so much about self-pity as it is about the “steaming piles of crap” image you used. A friend told me about the perfect image of “manageability” in this story. A man is walking through the countryside, and comes upon an open cesspool. The stench is horrific – but not as bad as the sight of a man apparently standing in the very middle of it, up to his chin in the sewage. The walker cries out, “Oh, dear GOD! Hold on! I’ll get a rope, or a branch, or something to help pull you to safety and get you OUT of there!” The man in the cesspool says, “No….I’m actually OK, for now. I got used to the smell after a while. My primary concern is just that no one make any waves…I just don’t want to get any of this in my mouth, nose or ears…”
Very interesting images to portray in your comments, but I get the point…and agree. 🙂