It Is, Of Course, All About Me

Anonymous:  Of unknown name; whose name is withheld.

Today we read Tradition Eleven, the one that reminds us that anonymity is the spiritual tradition of . . . well, just about everything.  My sponsor always told me to place "principles before personalities" whenever I started to gripe about someone else.  I was too embarrassed to admit that I didn't know what that meant.  It took me like fifteen years to screw up the courage to explain to me what the hell he was talking about.

Some people talked about anonymity - the kind that adheres to us personally and the kind that pertains to others.  I always have to laugh when I ponder my own anonymity - I used to come home at three in the morning, all of my windows down, summer or winter, didn't make any difference, with the hope that the fresh air would keep me awake while I was driving . . . weaving down the road . . . , Black Sabbath blasting at Volume Eleven, then park up on the grass or four feet out into the street, depending on my mood, but god forbid anyone know that I was an alcoholic.  When I started making my amends I expected to hear people say: "You?  An alcoholic?  Get outta here."  What came out was more along the lines of "Thank god you're finally getting some help."

But I think we all need to be respectful of the anonymity of others.  Admitting that we're in recovery is a personal matter.  Some of us have good reason to protect our anonymity - society can indeed be a harsh judge when they find out someone is a drunk.  I get this.  I can see some folks might be uncomfortable hearing their open-heart surgeon say: "Hey, today is my first day in recovery!  Feeling a little shaky but I'm really going to do it this time.  Now . . . breathe deeply into the mask and count backwards from ten . . . ."

I've gotten to the point where I don't hide my membership any more.  I did when I was working - I saw no need for customers and colleagues to know this very personal information, although I got more and more open the longer I was sober.  But today?  Who gives a shit.  I don't lead with my sobriety - although sometimes I even do that - but I bring it up all the time.  I don't think it shocks anyone.  Most people are not that interested in the excruciating minutia of my life.  I could be saying that I'm going to take a walk.  And a lot of people are supportive.  A lot of them have some connection to recovery, either personally or via a close friend or relative.  I got tired of saying I "know someone from church" or some such bullshit.  I was at a cocktail party recently - I appreciate the irony here but I had a pretty good time and cocktail-free - when the host complimented my writing in the presence of someone I didn't know.

"Oh, what do you write about?" she asked.

Too much work and too great a chance that some elaborate deception would come back to confound me so I just told her what my general topics are.  

Actually, that's not true.  If I was brutally honest I'd say: "My topic is ME!"