
They Told Me I’d Never Feel Love – AA Proved Them Wrong – AA Speaker – Wayne B.
AA speaker Wayne B. shares 22+ years sober. Told as a psychopath he’d never feel love, he discovers emotional sobriety, purpose, and redemption through working the steps and sponsorship in recovery.
Wayne B., an AA speaker from Illinois who is now based in California, was told by psychiatrists at age 18 that he’d never feel the emotion of love—that he was a psychopath incapable of guilt or conscience. In this talk, he walks through his journey from living in dumpsters and psychiatric institutions to 22 years sober, showing how the program of Alcoholics Anonymous and a relentless sponsor helped him recover emotional capacity, build a life of purpose, and discover what love really means.
Wayne B. is an AA speaker with 22+ years sober who was diagnosed as a psychopath and told he’d never experience love. He shares his story from homelessness and repeated psychiatric hospitalizations through early sobriety struggles, the impact of his sponsor’s tough love, working Steps 1–12 for emotional recovery, and ultimately finding love, family reconciliation, and purpose in service work. His talk covers the soul sickness at the root of alcoholism, the difference between spiritual and clinical depression, and how commitment to AA principles transformed his life from violence and chaos into dignity and connection.
Episode Summary
Wayne B. opens this talk with brutal honesty about the man he was and the power of transformation he’s witnessed in recovery. At 18, a panel of psychiatrists diagnosed him as a psychopath after he drank a bottle of tequila and tried to kill his family. They told him plainly: he would never feel love, never develop a conscience beyond fear of getting caught. That diagnosis haunted him for decades.
His drinking years were a descent into incomprehensible demoralization. Wayne lived in dumpsters behind restaurants, survived on ketchup soup from sympathetic waitresses, and experienced six years of uncontrollable diarrhea and vomiting from mixing whatever he could find into an empty beer bottle. He was arrested nine times for domestic violence, twice for attempted murder, and institutionalized in psychiatric wards 17 times. His family had a restraining order against him. He had nothing and nowhere to go.
The turning point came when he stumbled—literally—into his first AA meeting. Drunk and oiled up for courage, he charged through a basement doorway, hit his head on the frame, and slid into a room with six old men waiting to die, as he saw it then. One of them, his future sponsor, told him flatly: “Slide right in here, dummy. We got a wrench to fit every nut that slides in the door.” Wayne, thinking sponsors paid for everything (from his baseball days), latched onto his sponsor like a leech. He hated him immediately. He hated his sponsor’s guts, his hair, his feet—everything about him.
For the next five and a half years, Wayne drank every day while going to meetings. He was a “slipper”—someone who found it necessary to drink after coming to AA. He disrupted meetings while drunk, got thrown out onto the street by old-timers, and fired a gun at his sponsor during one particularly dark moment while in the grips of untreated mental illness. His sponsor never wavered. When Wayne came through the next morning in leather restraints at a psychiatric hospital, beaten from head to toe by an AA group therapy session, his sponsor showed up. No judgment. Just: “When and if they let you out, if you come with us and do what we did, you can recover too.”
Wayne’s sponsor got him released to his own care and told him something that stuck: “I ain’t afraid of you, bucko. It’s in the book. We do not fear to go to the most sordid spot on earth to carry this message, because God will keep us unharmed. Pal, you are the most sordid spot I’ve ever been.”
It wasn’t until four and a half years into meetings that Wayne heard the simple sentence that changed everything: “You know, this program tends to work better if you don’t drink.” That was the first time in over four years anyone had said it plainly to him. His mind fragmented. He stopped drinking that day—November 8, 1977, at 4:30 a.m.—and has not had a drink since.
But sobriety wasn’t a magic wand. Wayne spent his early years in AA fighting the program, doing the steps halfway, sponsoring himself, and building an ego that nearly destroyed his recovery. By his seventh year sober, he was depressed, had lost his teeth again, weighed 146 pounds, and was convinced AA didn’t work. He called a psychiatrist, was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and prescribed lithium, amatryptaline, and Prozac. His sponsor didn’t tell him what to do. Instead, he said: “You have never incorporated the AA program as a way of life. Try the steps for two years. If you’re not better, I’ll help you take your pill.”
Wayne took the pills out, put them away, and did the steps exactly as outlined in the Big Book, using the 12 and 12 to understand the emotional symptoms that Bill Wilson called faulty emotional dependencies. He worked through character defects, resentments, fears, and the root cause: a separation from God—what he came to understand as a soul sickness, not just a chemical one.
By his ninth year, the depression was gone. It has never returned. He lost weight, his thinking cleared, and something shifted internally. He had a dream—to become a police officer, despite his nine arrests for domestic violence and 17 psychiatric hospitalizations. His sponsor pushed him to try. Wayne followed directions to the letter, worked with lawyers, got his record expunged, and was hired by the sheriff’s department. He graduated the academy fourth in his class and stood before his sponsor and 30 people from his home group as the badge was pinned on him. For one of the few times in his sobriety, he didn’t feel like garbage.
The second half of Wayne’s talk pivots to the emotional storms that tested his foundation. Last year, between his 21st and 22nd years sober, he fell in love for the first time—truly in love. He proposed, sent 400 save-the-date cards, and felt a joy he’d never known. A month later, she gave him his ring back and returned to her ex. He was shattered. His sponsor said: “You’re suffering from a broken heart. We don’t have a step to work that’ll mend a broken heart. I hope you have a lot of commitments.”
Wayne did have commitments. One of them kept him sober through that pain: he was scheduled to speak at a psychiatric hospital meeting. He considered bailing for ringside tickets to a championship fight, but his sponsor’s face appeared in his mind. He went to the meeting—14 people, 10 with psychiatric wristbands—and told them: “I’m Wayne, I’m an alcoholic, and I don’t want to be here tonight.” Then he gave his talk. A man approached him afterward and asked if he was an actor. He turned out to be the co-creator of a nationally syndicated police series. Wayne was offered a job.
But the bigger miracle came through a phone call. His 12-year-old son in Illinois—a child he’d lost through court proceedings years earlier—called to say he wanted to be adopted. Wayne had signed irrevocable consent papers that made him no longer the legal father. He received a call from the boy’s mother asking him to come get his son because her marriage had fallen apart. Wayne flew back, spent five days with him, couldn’t bring himself to tell the boy he wasn’t his father anymore, and returned to California dying inside. But the adoption papers never reached the courthouse in time. They got lost in the mail. His son was still his son.
Last summer, the boy spent time with Wayne in California. Last year, Wayne met Nora, whom he’s now engaged to, and they’re sitting together at this AA convention. He didn’t think he’d ever fall in love again—or that he’d be loved back.
And then there was the acting offer. Two weeks before he was supposed to start a 16-week movie shoot, Wayne called the director and said no. He had 14 conferences scheduled that year with AA. He couldn’t bring his heart to leave the fellowship. Some friends thought he was crazy. Maybe he is. But he knew his life depends on showing up, suiting up, and being the best member of AA he can be.
“My life has been resurrected completely,” Wayne says near the end. “I feel like I’m trying to get redemption for the way I used to live. And all I got to do is show up, suit up, try to pay respect to the one thing I love more than anything—I’ll call it the fellowship—and try to be the best member of AA I can be.”
The psychiatrists who diagnosed him as a psychopath incapable of love were wrong. Love, Wayne learned, is “doing for, not expecting from.” It’s the choice to show up, to keep his word, to sponsor others, to help a newcomer, to let a broken heart break so deeply that it cracks open and lets something real come in. That’s what AA proved to him. That’s the miracle.
Notable Quotes
I hate his guts” (what he heard from his sponsor’s tough love, followed by actions that saved his life)
This program tends to work better if you don’t drink.” (The sentence that ended five and a half years of daily drinking)
You have never incorporated the AA program as a way of life. Try the steps for two years. If you’re not better, I’ll help you take your pill.” (His sponsor’s ultimatum that led to true recovery)
Love is doing for, not expecting from.” (What Wayne learned about love through AA)
My life has been resurrected completely. I feel like I’m trying to get redemption for the way I used to live.” (The transformation of his purpose in sobriety)
Sponsorship
Emotional Sobriety
Steps 6 & 7 – Character Defects
Family & Relationships
Topics Covered in This Transcript
- Step 4 – Resentments & Inventory
- Sponsorship
- Emotional Sobriety
- Steps 6 & 7 – Character Defects
- Family & Relationships
People Also Search For
AA speaker on sponsorship
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Full AA Speaker Transcript
This transcript was auto-generated and may contain minor errors. For the best experience, listen to the audio above.
Welcome to Sober Sunrise, a podcast bringing you AA speaker meetings with stories of experience, strength, and hope from around the world. We bring you several new speakers weekly, so be sure to subscribe. If you'd like to help us remain self-supporting, please visit our website at sober-rise.com.
Whether you join us in the morning or at night, there's nothing better than a sober sunrise. We hope that you enjoy today's speaker. Wayne Butler.
I'm an alcoholic. >> Want to thank uh Judy and West for uh inviting me up here to share with you good folks. I love Alcoholics Anonymous.
I'll go wherever I'm asked. Um if you can tolerate me, I can tolerate you. You hear that reverberation in that microphone?
You know, pretty quick. I'm going to think I'm talking to myself and we're all going to be in trouble. Thank Ron for picking Norah and I up at the airport last night.
Came in early. We had a good dinner. And uh Norah and I spent quite a bit of time up in Wes's room drinking perier.
There's a good time. First liar, don't have a chance and alcohol is synonymous. Did I mention I love a yet?
I love how you guys do it here in Canada. I've This place is overwhelming to me. I'm a I'm a dumpster diver, so this is pretty step up.
I know I don't look like a dumpster diver, but uh what's one look like? I mean, hell, I got storebought teeth and good clothes. I don't even look like somebody been missing his teeth, do I?
I just stood up a lot when I should have shut up. Did I mention I love a yet? If you're new in this room and this is your first convention of Alcoholics Anonymous, I personally want to extend a welcome to you.
Uh, and I also want you to know that I don't represent Alcoholics Anonymous. I'm just doing the best I can of being the best member of Alcoholics I can be. And please don't judge AA by my appearance or by what I say.
You might cheat yourself and do yourself a terrible disservice if you don't like what I have to say or or perhaps if you don't understand my experience or identify. But if you do, welcome to AA. By the way, newcomer, laughter is identification.
I dare you not to laugh for the next hour or so. I love aid. I mention that.
If you're new in this room, I say that because that's probably the most important thing I had to share with you besides the fact I'm an alcoholic is that uh I truly do love a and uh I learned that from the old-timers and alcoholics anonymous. Uh I learned how to love a by action, not by verbosity, not by what I have to say, but uh by what I do. And when I say I love aid, then I'm suggesting to you that I do my very level best as a human being to respect and honor the 12 traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous.
I try very very hard to to put the 12 concepts of world service into practical application. And I try to do uh the 12 steps on a daily basis to the best of my ability. And that's what I mean by when I say I love AA.
When somebody asked me to come to Toronto, Canada to share my experience, I'm I'm willing to give up my weekend at home and come spend it with you because I know my very life depends upon it. Right away this morning, uh, Mildred come walking up to Nor and I in breakfast and couldn't remember her name. I'm terrible with names, but I remembered the face and if I saw the license plate number of her car, I would have remembered that, too.
Uh, first thing she did was scold me. So, I felt right at home. I She's here.
I already spotted her. I'm not I'm not banging her out while she's not in front of me. I I love aid.
I mentioned that. I'm an alcoholic. If you're new in this room, that means I drank.
That helped to be an alcoholic. Some places people don't know that I I love Budweiser. More specifically, some people say you can't be an alcoholic if all you drank was beer.
That's all I drank. More specifically, Budweiser. Let me tell you how much I love Budweiser.
How many of you watched the Super Bowl this past January? Did you see that Clyde deal being born? I cry.
I knew Budweiser was safe for another generation. I understand Louis the lizard and I miss Budweiser. Tell you how much I miss Budweiser.
If you ever come to California, you come to Santa Monica, if you cross over the grape vine into the valley on the west side of the freeway, there's a Anheiser Bush Brewery. I tell you, when I drive by there, I swear to God, I slow down and have a moment of silence. I have to admit, I like fine wine, too.
Ripple, do you have that over here? Boon's Farm Strawberry Hill. You know why I like Boone Farm Strawberry Hill?
Cuz when I puke, it looks like I'm bleeding internally. and I lie and tell you I got cancer or something and you feel sorry for me and buy me a real drink. Then I'd like to make mad dog 2020 grape.
God, I just love that. Make you sweat if you think about it. Now I had a quart bottle of Budweiser that was pretty much empty cuz I was living in the dumpsters.
And what I would do is I'd mix these different things in the bottle and that's what I drank. Now I tell you what that did to me. I don't know what it does to you but it gave me a terminal condition called diarrhea.
If you drink like I drank, I had diarrhea for 6 years. If you had diarrhea for 6 years, you got to have good decision-making skills. And you got to develop split-second timing.
And I was a puker, too. I I could spray this whole front row and not even hit not even hit my own shoe top. And since I got false teeth, it ain't incoming.
You got to be careful. They come out, just catch them, give them back up. I remember there's one place I could go, my wife would never follow, and that was the bathroom.
I owned it. It was mine. I could have a cardiac arrest on the floor and my wife would not have come into the bathroom.
That was my throne of contempt. I would lay there against the coolness of the stool. I should have a Hamilton put right there.
And I remember one night I was in there and then I would I raled for everything I'm worth. And I experienced a moment of pitiful and incomprehensible demoralization. My denture blew out right into the stool.
And it was a race between me and the hole at the bottom cuz I knew I was about to lose him and I caught him just before they went down the shooter and I thought, "What the hell?" I rinsed him off and put him right back in. I sure miss drinking. I didn't mean to end up that way.
I sure didn't start that way. You see, I had no idea what alcoholism was. I had no conception in my mind.
I tell you what my idea and newcomer, I want you to know how powerful the old idea is. It tells us in how it works until I let go of them. absolutely that the result was nil.
This idea is still in my mind though I don't nurse it anymore. I was watching TV one time and I saw what an alcoholic was. It was a guy in a tattered and torn raincoat with a rope tied about the waist to keep it closed.
He was laying in a doorway somewhere like Clark and Randolph Street in Chicago sucking out of a brown paper bag. In my opinion, that's what I decided an alcoholic was. Therefore, I'm not alcoholic.
I've never drank out of a brown paper bag. Not yet. But it's early.
I've been sober 22 years, 4 months, and 9 days, one day at a time. Today, I could drink again. The reason I mention that is cuz I'm a slipper.
I could If you're a slipper, don't be ashamed. Don't let anybody make you ashamed. I'm not proud of it, but I'm a slipper because I'm an alcoholic and I drank after I came day eight.
So, that means I'm a slipper. I found it necessary to drink after I met you people. Now I'm I'm not mad at you guys who don't find it necessary, but if you fell into the group I Let me tell you about that.
I was sleeping in this duplex off behind Larry's Oasis in Moly in Illinois. You had two of them back there was side by side dumpsters. And I was in the one to the south.
See, I couldn't stay in Larry's Tavern anymore because I'd become unpredictable. I would wake up in the middle of the night and see things and shoot. And I would break bottles of liquor behind the bar.
So, he wouldn't let me sleep in there in the morning. I couldn't go home. My family had a restraining order out against me.
I could no longer approach my mom or my dad or anybody else. So, the only place I had left was Skid Row. Now, let me tell you about something in case you slip.
In case you don't know this, when it gets about 20 below zero, garbage that's not been picked up for a while has a tendency to begin to decompose. And as it does, it gives off a strange kind of a heat. And if you burrow down into it, you don't get frostbite.
And if you're hungry, what the heck? And I was in my dumpster out back one night and I heard a knock on the lid. I was home.
So, I opened the door. You know who was looking down at me? My daddy.
My daddy looked at me and he said, "Wayne, do you want to come home?" No. No. I like it in here, Dad.
Doesn't it look warm and cozy in here? If it was nice, I'd invite you in, Dad. After all, you and mom helped put me here, don't you know?
That's not what I said. That's what I thought. Instead, I said, "No thanks, Dad.
I'm I'm doing fine." My dad closed the lid and left. Never came back. He didn't need Allan.
He was out of there. And it got too cold to stay in that dumpster. And so, uh, I'm pretty charming with 80-year-old waitresses at midnight.
me without no teeth. Oh, it's just a a vision for you, you might say. And uh went to this restaurant called Harvey's Restaurant and uh broke into an abandoned car parked out back.
It was uh located at uh the bottom of 34th Street in Mole Lane, right behind Harvey's Restaurant. And uh I got this midnight waitress to feel sorry for me, and she gave me a hot cup of water and a bottle of Hines tomato ketchup, and I made myself a cup of Hines tomato soup soup. and she gave me some saltine crackers and she cut me a deal.
She told me if I'd mop and wax a dining room floor, she'd give me two saucy sandwiches on whole wheat toast. I didn't think it was much pay, but you know, I wasn't in a position to argue. And uh I cut the deal and uh there's a guy that owned a restaurant named Harvey.
Harvey's restaurant. No offense, Wes. Harvey was about Wes's size, but he had this giant nose.
I don't know if you ever seen whiskey nose, but his nose was straight as an arrow, but then it was flared out on the nostril, swollen like bombs had gone off and the blood veins underneath the skin had turned red and purple and black. And I swear to God, when was Harvey's nose, his nose would thump when his heart would beat. And I was mesmerized by that throbbing nose.
One night Harvey came in. He he had something to say to me. But first, I want to tell you something.
There's a guy named Clancy who talks about disease of perception. If you're new in this room, I want you to know what that disease of perception means to me that you'll so you'll understand what I'm about to tell you. When I was newly sober about 3 minutes, my sponsor took me to a meeting in Chicago, Illinois cuz the police were looking for me in meetings in Molen, Illinois for a a mistaken thing, sort of.
There's a group in Chicago called the Mustard Seat and uh they was having an anniversary and this was uh a little over 22 years ago and uh it was a room with about one row like this going back 300 people. My sponsor was sitting in the front row with the other old-timers made us us newcomers, us losers in my opinion sit in the second row. I figured so they wouldn't have to look at the disease.
There's about 300 people at the meeting and there's a guy up here speaking much like I am. And you know, I've been around AA 5 years drunk the whole time, so I knew something about AA. My friend Jim, I've known him three minutes.
He didn't know nothing about AA. So I was helping him understand. So as the speaker was speaking, I found it necessary to critique the speaker just like the summer you are right now.
This guy's talking and he's saying stuff and I finally I can't take it no more. I finally nudged Jimmy and I said, "Jimmy, that guy's a liar. He couldn't have drank like that.
His guts would fall out." I know. And then he talked on and I couldn't stand it. I nudged Jimmy and I said, "Jimmy, Jimmy went." So I went and I said, "He couldn't have done that.
He'd be locked up in jail for the rest of his life." And then he talked on and I nudged Jimmy and I said, "Oh, Jimmy, he couldn't have done that. He'd be locked up in a psych word for the rest of his life." I know. I've been there 17 times.
By the way, I have been there 17 times. I like the psych word. I truly do.
I'm going to tell you why. If you drink like I drank and you act like I acted out on the street, I couldn't get a date to save my life. You put me in a psychiatric institution and I got a 50/50 shot.
Now I'm going to tell you how to do it in case you slip cuz it gets lonely out there. Anybody in here had thorazine? I've had I had enough thorine pump in me to slow me down till I'm 210.
Now, I'm going to tell you what it does to me. Thorazine doesn't do a thing to slow down the speed of my thinking, but my butt will never catch it. And I know if it does that to me, it's got to do with you girls, too.
I have I got to tell the truth. Psych wars I went to, they wheeled the med cart right out onto the floor, and I'd stand there and watch and I'd pick one of the cute ones out, and I'd wait till she took her thorazine. cuz I knew about an hour I was going to get a chance at a date.
Hey, it's a lot like that. We just don't give out doors. Amen.
So, I n Jimmy and I said, "Jimmy, he couldn't have done that. He'd be locked up in the psychward the rest of his natural life." 17 times. And I guess my sponsor got sick and tired of hearing that.
He turned around and looked me right in front of the eye and in front of 300 people. Here's what I heard him say. Shut up, you goddamn loser.
You ain't got a thing to say we want to hear. And if we ever think you do, we'll come out to that abandoned car we pulled you out of behind Harvey's restaurant. We'll toot your little horn and INVITE YOU IN TO SHARE.
NOW, until you hear that horn, sit there, keep your big mouth shut, or leave the meeting. That's what I heard him say. Come and find out here's what he really said.
That's what I heard. So, if you're here like that, welcome to AA. But Harvey came to the restaurant and Harvey was one of the grateful old-timers, a humble man by any stretch, a humble man.
He pulls his brass coin out of his pocket. And on one side, he's got two A's. And on the other side, he's got some prayer.
God grant me something. I don't know. Didn't say nothing about money, food, or shelter.
So, I wasn't real clued in. And then Harvey said something to me. Here's what he really said.
He said, "You take this coin down to 41616th Street Molen tomorrow. You tell them Harvey sent you." and they're friends of mine. They're going to help you.
That's not what I heard. And if I hadn't heard it the way I heard it, I would have never went because, you see, I'm not really an alcoholic. I mean, I got some problems.
I know that psychiatrically for sure. But I'm not an alcoholic. I've never drank nothing out of a brown paper bag.
So Harvey tells me to go down there. And what I heard him say was, "They'll give you three or four packs of pillow tailor made cigarettes. I haven't had a tailor made for a while." He said they give me some pocket dough cuz they know I'm broke and some food cuz I'm hungry.
That's what I really heard him say. That's when he said they'd help me. That's the only reason I went to 41616th Street the next day.
And like any good OA group 27 years ago in Illinois. I get down to the address. It's in the worst part of town right around the corner from Larry's Oasis.
And on the side of the building it had this giant sign posted by the city of Molen said building condemned. do not enter. Right below it was another sign with an arrow pointing into the basement said AA16th Street.
Welcome. And then he told me that there'd be a light bulb hanging on a cord in the hallway in the cellar doorway. And he said if that light was on, they're home and they're expecting you.
Go on in. Isn't that fascinating? So I go down there the next day and I find it.
I look down into the cellar way and there's the light bulb. Harvey told me if it was on to go in. He didn't tell me what to do if the light bulb was flickering on and off.
You hear me? That light was flickering. I didn't know what to do.
I stood there and almost wondered what it means. He said, "If it's on, go in." I wonder if they're there. I wonder if it's a warning not to come in yet.
What is it? I don't know if you think like that, but I do. I had no idea.
I was going to AA. I didn't ANA. What's ANA?
I don't know what AA is. I if I would have known, I wouldn't wait cuz I'm not really an alcoholic. Don't you see?
I couldn't take it. I could not go in. I didn't know what that meant.
So, I went to Larry's Oasis and had a couple drinks. And then I didn't care cuz when I get oiled up, I don't mind asking for some free food and money. So, I went back, went charging through that basement doorway, failed to notice that the door header's 510ish.
I'm 6'3ish. And I swear when I went charging through that doorway that that door hit me right that header hit me right across the eyebrow. The impact literally knocked me off my feet and I slid into my first meet the alcoholic snob about 6 ft inside the doors.
This round table with six or seven old men waiting to die. That was my opinion. I slid between two of them.
This old ugly one gets up out of the chair and goes just like this. Then he said, "Slide right in here, dummy. We got a wrench to fit every nut that slides in the door." I didn't like him right away.
And I reached down into my cowboy boot to pull that 357 out to pop a cap in his butt. And then he said, "Denny," that's what I heard. I looked up and I said, "My name's Wayne." He says, "I got it, Dunny.
I'm going to be your sponsor." That saved his life. You might wonder why. I've never been to AA before, but I've played baseball.
Sponsors pay for everything. When you when you live like me, you got to think quick on your feet. And I got up off that floor and stuck my head right up Barney's butt.
I really did. I thought, "Okay, sponge." They say for They say Barney should have had turns on his hip to keep from breaking my neck. Should he turn left or right too soon without warning me, I was right there.
time Barney said, "If he wasn't smiling, I wasn't close enough. I hated his guts. You could stand him and Wes up side by side and they could be twins." That's truly a true story.
Barney B and Moly in Illinois. I hated that man. I hated him.
I hated his guts. I hated his hair. I hated everything.
I hated his feet. Hated everything about him. Wanted him to die.
If you're alcoholic like me, you'll understand why. He said, "Come go along with us." And for the next 5 years, I drank every day. I drank before meetings.
I drank after meetings. And when I could not stand it anymore, I would slip out during a meeting and drink. And I'm here to tell you something.
If you find a gathering like this where a drinking drunk is not allowed to sit and listen, in my opinion, that's not a that's a gathering of people forgot from whence they came. I do want to suggest this to you newcomer in case you are a slipper though. We do want you to behave while you're here.
And there in lies my problem. You see I could either drink or I could behave. I just couldn't do it simultaneously.
I remember I was about four years drinking going to meetings and I came into a meeting 15 minutes late and I'll tell you why. I was sitting down at Larry's Oasis. Remember how we tell people that it helps us to help you?
I was sitting down at Oasis one night and it was meeting time and I was late and I remembered I wanted to get there in time that you could help me so you'd feel better. I don't know if any of you think like that, but I wanted you to help me cuz I knew it made you feel good when you went home. And I'm a bankrupt idealist.
I just got to be of service. I got to the meeting 15 minutes late, walked in, the speaker was speaking, and I of course disrupted the entire meeting because it's all about me me. I don't care about anybody else.
And of course it disturbed some of the older veteran members and one of them got up and now I'm a pretty pleasing guy. I was down at Larry's Oasis having a few drinks and I was getting spiritual. I don't I get spiritual when I drink.
And I came to that meeting and you should have overlooked the fact I was a tiny bit late. After all, I was there and one of them old-timers got up and said, "You got to quiet down. You're disrupting the meeting." And something happened in my spirituality.
And I looked at him and I said, "I don't want to." Another one gets up and says, "You got to sit down. You're disrupting the meeting." I looked at him and I said, "I don't have to." Another one gets up and says, "You got to leave. You're welcome to come back tomorrow because we don't kick anybody." I repeat, anybody out of a but we do have a right to an undisturbed, uninterrupted meeting so that our newcomers and we can hear an undisrupted, undistracted message.
And I looked at him and I said, "Uh, you can't make me." Oh, yes they can. See this old boy right here? About four guys his size.
Each one grabbed arm and a leg, talked some goofy newcomer into holding the door open. I noticed as I flew right by. Just before I landed out in the middle of 16th Street, I heard one of the old-timers yell out, "Keep coming back.
God, I hated him. But I kept coming back. Four and a half years drinking.
I walked into a meeting and I heard my sponsor yelled out, "Hey, dummy." That's what I heard. I turned around. I said, "What?" And he said, "You know this program tends to work better if you don't drink." I didn't know that.
That was news to me. And I don't know about you, but that was the first time in four and a half years I'd heard it. And my mind fragmented.
That's all I can tell you. And I reached down into my cowboy boot and I pulled that 357 out. I wheeled around.
I fired round off at my sponsor's face. I missed him 6 in high. They say if Barney would have been 6' tall, he'd be 6' under.
I came through the next morning in six-point leather restraints at St. at Franciscan Mental Health Center in Rock Island, Illinois. I was tied down in the center of a padded room.
I was black and blue from head to toe from a little AA group therapy. They said they did it with love. had a visitor the next morning.
You know who it was? >> Barney. I could not get rid of him for nothing.
He was like a maggot on a mission. He was everywhere. And I'm I'm laying there tied down, busted from the feet up to the head.
And I'm waiting for him to judge me and tell me what I really am and that I can't come to AA no more. That I've been excommunicated, if you will. You know what he says to me, Denny?
That's what I heard. He said, "There's something wrong with you. I don't even know if you're an alcoholic.
Maybe you're just nuts." And I'm thinking, "Yeah, be brave now, pal. I'm tied down." And I know where you live. And when they let me out of here, I'm going to come look you up.
Just like he had ESPN. He looked down at me and he said, "I don't know if they're going to let you out. They're talking about keeping you and studying you a while." Really?
He says, "But I do know this. When and if they let you out of here, if you come with us and do we did and still do, you can recover, too." You know, he never mentioned a word about that night. And to this day, he's never mentioned a word to me about that night.
And then he went even a step further. He went to the board of psychiatry and got me released to his care. Huh?
This man's out of his mind. I don't know if I could have been that humble. I asked him.
I said, "Bernie, why didn't weren't you afraid of me?" And he didn't even miss a beat. He says, "I ain't afraid of you, bucko." And I said, "Why aren't you afraid of me, Bernie?" He says, "It's in the book." Really? And he went to that part of the big book where he says, "We do not fear to go to the most sorted spot on earth to carry this message that God will keep us unharmed." And he said, "Pal, you are the most sorted spot I've ever been." Oh, he always had to get them gigs in there.
God, I just hated his gut. Then he said, "You know that part in the book? What part of the book, Barney?
I'm sick of the book. What book?" He said, "An alcoholic in his cups is an unloly creature." He said, "Not child of God creature. You're an animal." And I'm thinking, "What?" And leave me alone.
He wasn't done with me yet. Got me released to him and I drank for six more months. You'd think I'd stop.
But you see, I've got this condition of mind and body that's different from most normal drinkers. And I don't know what's wrong with me. have no idea what precipitates me into the kind of thinking that it required me to pick up a Budweiser when it meant certain difficulty.
And now I know today what my condition is. Thank God I do. I went through two wives and five kids and I disrupted their I stripped them children of their childhood.
I didn't mean to. But I take responsibility for it. I can't blame it on alcohol to them.
They were there. The them I have to go approach and try to make amend to as a human being. I can't blame it on alcohol.
You see, they really know that it was me. Doesn't matter how much I drank, they know it was me. And so, I'm thankful that we have a program of practical application where I can attempt to set right the wrongs I created while I was under the influence of alcohol.
Because, you see, alcohol is not the problem. There's a certain part of me that wishes it was. If alcohol was a problem, I could simply avoid drinking and I'd be fine.
Wouldn't that be true? Something happens to me. It happened to me before I ever came.
Hey, it happened to me when I came out of the shoot, I think. Must have got it on the way down. I'm not sure genetically predisposed.
I come from an alcoholic home. I'm not going to blame nothing on them. I'm going to tell you this.
I'm not going to tell you about my mom and dad's drinking or behavior because uh that's them and I might lie to you to make myself look better and to get you to feel sorry for me. And if I tell you what they did to me and my perception, those that do need help might not never approach a because if they're like me, if I knew they came here and talked about me, I wouldn't show up no matter how bad I was dying. And so I'm not going to tell you.
I just tell you I came from an alcoholic home. If you come from an alcoholic home, we probably identify. I will give you this insight.
You get Jerry Springer over here. If you want to know what my youth was like, just watch Jerry Springer for about a week. It's like a butler family reunion.
There's a thing called the ISM. The ISM. There's a lot of acronyms, but I like the one that's in the basic text of alcoholics namm is internal spiritual maladjustment.
You see, my problem is spiritual in its entirety. Internal spirit. Page 53 of the book Alcoholics Noms, it says that God either is or isn't.
What's my decision to be? God is everything or God is nothing. What's my decision to be?
Then on page 55, it says deep down inside every and the key word is every. It offended me deeply. Every man, woman, and child is a fundamental idea of God.
By the way, newcomer, if the word God offends you, let me offer you the God that my sponsor offered me when it was unpalatable and unacceptable to me. He said, "Good God." It's in the big book, good orderly design for living. If you follow the book, you'll have a good orderly design.
You'll have a God of understanding. In the 12 and 12, it says god, good orderly direction. It says in the 12 and 12 that when I become willing to take advice and accept direction that I would be set on the road to straight thinking and honest living.
And then my favorite god, group of drunks. There's a power here where of myself I'm nothing. There's a power when we get together.
You see, when I'm with you, I'm not with me. You hear me? Because when I'm not with you, I'm left with me.
And I'm not alone. There should be a neighborhood watch sign right there. Then on page Roman numeral 24 we have internal we have spiritual says quote Bill Wilson through Bill Dr.
Silkworth through Bill Wilson said this that I am quote maladjusted to life in full flight from reality and outright mentally defective. That was my hope for the future. And I came to a with all these feelings and emotions that I didn't understand.
I said, "God, why can't drinking be my problem?" My sponsor said, "Drinking is not your problem. The ism is, but I didn't understand it for a long time. Now I understand in a big book of alcoholics in the book 12 steps and 12 traditions." Father Ed Ding, Reverend Sam Shoemaker, Dr.
Harry Tibo, and Dr. Jung collectively gathered a set of symptoms that Bill Wilson with the help of Father Ford and Tom Powers put these symptoms in written form so that people like me could read them and understand them and know what my condition is. Now, if you're new, you may not know.
Let me share with you what it means to me to have alcohol is them. When I tell you I'm an alcoholic, here's what these men told me I'm really suggesting to you. I realize I look to you right now like I'm a fullg grown adult mature man.
In reality, I remain childish, grandiose, and gravely emotionally immature. As a growing human concern, mine my natural state is one of growing anxiety, depression, and fear coupled with an intense desire for excitement. A condition of being which is complicated with and exacerbated by an obsessive, compulsive, impulsive, excessive, controlling, demanding need for attention.
An unquestionable approval, a condition of human existence which renders me restless, irritable, and discontent with law. And do you know that that affects me? The way I think and the way I feel mentally my thought life is governed by 100 forms of fear, self-d delusion, self-seeking and self-pity.
All of which drive me to live my life according to selfish, dishonest, self-seeking, and considered resentful and frightened motives in luck. Motives which left unattended in me aroused and engaged dangerous and I said dangerous and lifethreatening levels of lust. Try not to make eye contact.
Pride, anger, indie, greed, swap, grubby. I turned into a pig. I want it all.
That renders me emotionally a bit sensitive. sensitive to the point that I have a strong tendency toward taking everything I see and hear personal. I don't like criticism and I can't stand praise basically because I doubt the sincerity of the praiser.
When it comes to suffering emotionally, I don't like to suffer emotionally. I don't suffer well and I don't suffer alone. Socially, I'm a bankrupt idealist and brooding perfectionist who lives defensively and guarded in fear of being found out.
As such, I tend to rationalize, minimize, justify, and deny all my actions while casting blame upon innocent people in a vigorous attempt to avoid detection. personally regarding my fellow man and woman. I demand and I said demand the absolute possession and control of everybody and every circumstance that enters my arena of life.
Therefore, in response to you, I am quick to anger, slow to virtue, and I get a distinct succinct delight and twisted pleasure out of judging and criticizing everybody I see. As a man, my outstanding characteristic is defiance and rebellion dogs my every step now as a child of God. That's a catalog of my finer qualities.
Anybody want a date? Wait a minute. Wait a minute.
Let me introduce you to Nora. Nora, ask him. You don't want her to think I'm really trying to get a date, my sweetie.
Well, after hearing that, she's taking a big chance, don't you think? And we laugh at that. Some people might even say that's psycho babble, but you know what?
It's in our book. And I'm going to tell you why I need to know that. newcomer, you're going to hear those symptoms that everybody you go to.
I promise I give you my word. But here's how you're going to hear them. I don't fit in.
I don't belong. I don't feel a part of. My god, what's wrong with me?
My case must be different. And then I begin to attempt to validate those feelings of difference through the actions I take. Now what makes that alcohol ism and our two speakers earlier today appointed to that.
Silkward says in the book alcohol synonymous drinkers like me abnormal drinkers drink essentially because I like the effect produced by alcohol. And that's why precisely why I'm willing to chase alcohol to the gates of insanity death and beyond. First I want to tell you this the feelings I had had in them my whole life.
The best way to describe it to you is when I was eight or nine years old, I'm at home. I'm looking in the mirror and I'm thinking to myself, Butler, it's too bad, pal. It's gonna be a long life and it's going to be lonely cuz you are butt ugly, pal.
I don't know where that came from. My mama never sat me down and said, "Oh, you poor little son of a, you know, just mercy alone, I'd put you back if I could. You're so ugly.
That's not what my mom said. That's what I heard when she said, "Wayne, I love you." Isn't that interesting? And you could have not have convinced me of any different.
That's what I heard. And I spent my whole life trying to validate those feelings that I didn't understand. What makes that alcoholism?
Here's another extension of that fact. Apparently, people like me have the inability. We're powerless to change the way we feel by the way we act.
I act the way I feel. If I feel bad, I I act bad and I take people with me. I felt So apparently I acted You know what'll happen if you act in school?
They'll diagnose you. In ninth grade I got diagnosed severely I got put in a class and I improved. Do you know I stayed in the class till I graduated high school?
I never left. It was great. There was 11 of us.
I used to lie and say 12. So it would be more programmatically acceptable. See, I found out kids would go to the bathroom and not get detention.
The girls bathroom. You know what makes me alcoholic? When I was 17 years old, Tom, who used to take us kids on field trips, not making that up, lived in a group home.
He took us kids on a He took us kids on field trips and he I was the leader. He said, "I was brighter than most." You know, I was bragging to my sponsor one time when I thought he was putting me down from what I was hearing. And I said, "Well, you know, Barney, I was their leader." Tom said I was brighter than most.
And Barney says, "Yeah, pal. You know what happens to a light bulb when it's brightest? It burns out." Tom took me to the senior dance.
I'm 17 years old. I'm 6'3", weigh 120 lbs and got pimples where God never intended pimples to be. And I knew you knew it.
Tom took me to that dance and I'm watching everybody mix and have a good time. Tom walks over and brings this long brown bottle with a red, white, and blue label called Budweiser. He said, "Here, drink this.
It'll make you feel better." I drank it and I said, "Tom, that tastes terrible. I want a Petracola." Tom said, "That's okay, kid. You'll get used to it." Now, you know what Tom meant?
Like anybody else that was drinking for the first time, I'd probably drink too much, get dizzy, probably get drunk, try to go into the bathroom, probably pee in my dresser, but I would come to the next day and learn to drink responsibly. That's basically what Tom meant. That's not what happened to me.
Something happened in my mind that is bodily mentally different from the average temperate drinker, moderate drinker, heavy drinker. It doesn't happen to any other drinker, but the alcoholic. I had an alteration in my perception of reality.
I know that was what it was today. All I know is somewhere between four and five Budweisers, I got some good looking. I couldn't stand it.
I looked out. I did. I went from 6320 lb to 6' 240 lb and I was bulletproof.
I looked out on the floor and I eyeballed me a blue-eyed blonde dancing with some loser. I walked right up to her and asked her to dance and she said, "Sure." She we danced. found out later that night sex meant two people.
I didn't know that. Drew me into a life-threatening depression. Needed sex therapy first time out of the gate.
And I'm going to tell you why. I was having sex since I was 13 and I thought I was pretty good at it. She ruined the whole deal.
If you've been there, you know what I mean. I went back to class. Few weeks later, my dad called me and said, "Pal, we got a problem." I said, "What's that, Dad?" He said, "You know that girl you was with?" I said, "Yes, sir." He said, "You know she's 16?" I thought, "Okay, I'm 17." "Duh." And he said, "She's pregnant." And I could tell that wasn't good.
And I said, "Dad, what's that mean?" Well, see, in the state of Illinois, there's a little law. If a boy 14 or older has sex with a girl 17 or younger, it's called statutory rape. And I said, "Dad, what's that mean?" He says, "20 years to life." I said, "Even if you're found out if you marry him, you don't go to jail." So, I fell in love.
I tell you something, I chased that moment. That is what I chased, that illusion. And Silkworth says in his opinion that the effect produced by alcohol though to the alcoholic it's real it's in fact an illusion to the earth person you know John Q normal he doesn't see that going on inside boy I do I feel normal they use a big word called extemporaneous in the 12 and 12 which simply means that when I drink I feel normal and do you know that's the great obsession of my mind is if I drink enough alcohol I will be able to act and react normal.
normally. And you know, I still have that same obsession in my mind today. 22 years, 4 months, and 9 days sober.
I want to be normal. I'll never get to be normal cuz I'm bodily, mentally different from my fellow man. And from that day I took my first drink till November 8th, 1977, when I took what appears to be my last drink.
I was chasing that same effect produced. When I get restless, irritable and discontent, a little computer chip kicks in and reminds me that when I drink Budweiser, I get a sense of pending ease, comfort, and normaly. And you know that computer chip is still in my head.
And if I go around alcoholic shamanics and don't participate in what we all participate in, I'll begin to feel like I don't fit in here too. Then pretty soon I feel like I don't belong. Then pretty soon I feel like I'm not a part of this deal.
And I'm going to go somewhere else. Maybe to church. No offense.
Maybe to a professional program. No offense. I may go somewhere, but if I don't feel like I fit in here, I'm going to go back on the street.
And when I become obsessed with the differences that I have, I am required to pick up a drink to try to ease the pressure of feeling different. And I'm going to submit to you right now that if I ever drink again, it's because of that. The fact is is I don't feel like I fit in, I'm a part of, I don't belong.
I now know I'm different from you and me. And I submit to you, therein lies the problem. I submit to you, therein lies the solution.
And I found that solution in alcohol economics in a chapter revision for you. That's chapter 11. There's 10 before it.
November 8, 1977. 4:30 in the morning. I'm being kicked out of the Rock Island Rescue Mission.
It's cold outside. It's Thanksgiving time coming up. I'm lonely and afraid.
And I got kicked out for rifle and pillowcases. I failed to notice some people's heads were on them. I had nowhere to go.
And so I decided to go to the noon meeting at the ming group. And I walked that 65 blocks to the moling group, stole a six-ack of bud on the way, got there and sat down on the front stoop of the moling group waiting for the noon meeting drinking my beer. I had three cans drank when guess you know who shows up.
Always early for a meeting. I couldn't stand it. Couldn't have been another newcomer we could have broke a six-pack with.
Had to be my sponsor, Barney. He shows up and I got three cans gone and he looks at me and he could have said something. He could have said, "You can't drink here.
What are you doing drink?" He's an alcoholic. He understands. You know what he said to me?
He says, "Why don't you come in?" You hear me? My sponsor sits him down, calls me over, I think in in explode upon him my wisdom, and all he could say was, "Shut up." At least that's what I heard. So, I'm waiting for Barney to take a deep breath so I can help this newcomer.
Finally, Barney stopped talking and I jumped in there and he said, "Shut up. >> We want to help him, not kill him." I think that's what he said. So, then we had the meeting and then my sponsor took me and the newcomer out for lunch.
And you know, he and I, neither one have had a drink since that day. Do you know that? And from that day to this day, I've been working with alcoholics.
They may not have wanted me to work with them, but I've been working with them anyway. My sponsor, by the way, if you sponsor people, watch out what you tell a newcomer like me, cuz I take you literally. My sponsor said, "Dummy, you got to grab a newcomer and work with him." I said, "Okay, Barney." So, I waited on me a newcomer.
I was sober two weeks and I saw this guy come in the room. He had the deer in the headlights look. So, I knew he was new.
So, I went up to him and I literally grabbed him by the throat and I pin him up against the wall. And here's what I SAID. THAT'S AN IF YOU WANT WHAT I GOT, YOU GOT TO DO WHAT I DID.
That's over two weeks. And this is what I heard. You ain't got a damn thing I want.
So I let him go. Let go. Let God, you know, let him go.
Who need you anyway? I find another. I went and told my son.
I said, Bernie, you don't want nothing I got. He says, really? cuz I got news for you and nobody else wants it either.
He says, "But you hang in there. You're bound to find one unsuspecting sooner or later." And you know what? I've been chasing them ever since.
I've been chasing them from that day to this day, working with people didn't want to be worked with, working with people that do want to be worked with. And finally, I've crossed that threshold into minding my own business and helping the newcomer. And you know what?
I know that's why I'm sober today. I know that's why I'm still sober. I know.
That's why I've got the quality of life I've got cuz I'm still chasing newcomers. My sponsor is 83 years old. He's 32 years sober.
And the other six men are all dead sober. All six of them died sober. Curly, Atly, Tiny, Davey, they all died sober.
When I got sober, they were all over the age of 80. I thought, why are you sober? What's the point?
Go get some coffee. I mean, in Walsh, you know, they're Come on. They're 80.
If you want what we got. Yeah. Give me some of that.
And then my sponsor told me we was going to a convention. Said, "What's that?" He said, "That's where a lot of us get together and do what we're doing." Oh, good. 1,200.
I'm sober. Three and a half weeks. It's Thanksgiving.
And he says, "We got to clean you up. You can't go looking like that." What he meant was, "I smell." That's what he meant. So, he took me to his trailer and I took a bath.
And by the way, I had long hair and a full beard. No offense to anybody who's that way. That's just not me.
But he knew it was because I had no teeth and I was ashamed. And he said, "You know what? It's time for you to come out and be who you are." And I shaved.
And they took me to buy me a new set of clothes for the convention. Convention going clothes. He said, "We went to the Salvation Army." He says, "If that bothers you, just call it Salvador cuz we're going to a convention." He said, "There's going to be people coming from all over the country to talk to us about alcoholism, and you got to be presentable." I SAID, "WHY?
SHUT UP." Couldn't get a head word in edgewise. So, he take me to Salvation Army, and he buys me my first silver go to meeting suit. It was a lime green double knit polyester.
had yellow lining, bright yellow lining with green tennis rackets. We bought it. Then we went to the shirt department.
I said, "Barney, I'm picking out the shirt, pal." So, I saw this cool shirt had no buttons from here to here. It was one of them disco shirts, remember, Dan? And it had animals on it.
I thought it was silk. It was brushed polyester. Had collars that went down to here.
So I bought that for a quarter. Over to the shoe department were the only 13 and 12 in gunboats they had in supply. Any disco people here?
Remember those black and brown box toe Oxford shoes that had the 2 and 1/2 in platform sold in a 6-in heel? That's all they had in my size. So we bought them.
They got out there for a buck 85. Takes me to the convention. stands me at the front door, makes me a greeter.
You know who the speakers were? Chuck Chamberlain. He had Elsa with him, Nor Melpie, Daddy Shore, guy by the name of Tom B from Charlotte, North Carolina.
Clancy I and Johnny H. If you're new in this room, I hope you're moved just in the least amount that I was moved that weekend because I fell in love with AA. I'm so glad my sponsor tricked me into going.
I would have never went dressed like that. I promise. But I'm at the front door greeting people and here comes Chuck C.
If you knew him, you understand how it is. Dude, I'd have shot him if I'd had a gun. Johnny bent me over and fished me for weapons.
Planty couldn't stop laughing. Norm Al Melie said something, but it was so quick I couldn't catch it. And finally, I couldn't take it no more.
I looked at Barney. I SAID, "BARNEY, ARE THEY LAUGHING AT ME?" HE SAYS, "UH, YEP." He said, "They sure are." He says, "You're excited to behold." He said, "You know what, dummy?" That's what I heard. Said, "If you ever learn to laugh at yourself, you'll never be left unamused.
I hated his guts." And then he said what he wanted me to do for the first year. He said, "There's a lot of hip, trick, and cool things to do out there." Now, this is in Illinois. He said, "What I want you to do is for the next year, give your undivided attention to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous because it's a way of life.
And if you don't adopt this way of life, you're going to die." He says, "What I want you to do is give us the first year of your life. Don't make any big decisions about calling me first. Don't go out and go to college and become an alcoholism counselor just yet cuz that's what I wanted to do.
No offense, that's just what he said." And so for he says, "Cuz here's why. You're going to build a foundation." He says, "You already got the hole, Doug. them old-timers get together, they're pretty witty.
But I found out, newcomer, when you get them alone, they're not so brave. He says, "You're building a foundation upon which God, the God of your understanding, is going to place a house. And you're going to need a mansion to hold many, many people because AA is worldwide and your family is going to be so big, you're going to need rooms to put them in to visit." I thought, "This man is out of his mind." But I did what he said.
I I did everything he said. He said, "Except one little thing I'll tell you about in a minute." He had me greeting people at the door. He had me pouring coffee, making coffee, cheering meetings, picking up the money, passing the basket, trying not to steal it every now and then.
I paid it back. I did it all. And at the end of the year, I want to warn you newcomers about the return of the human ego.
See, I got one of them. Some people say I got an eagle that would kill a lesser man. At my home group, the sponsor gives you a chip and says something nice about you, then you're supposed to say something nice about them quickly and sit down.
Something happened to me on the way to the podium. My sponsor got here cuz he was impressed. I stayed sober a year and he said something nice and gave me my chip and and as I approached the podium, I realized what a miracle I was.
And by the time I turned around to face my peers, I realized I was the miracle. Then I happened to look over Barney's head, there was a picture of Bill and Bob on the wall. And I kind of saw my picture floating up between them.
And it was at that precise moment in time I realized how spiritual I was after just a year. And there was my sponsor 9,000 years ready to die. And I realized I'd outgrown him spiritually.
You know, so when when I fired him, I didn't tell him. I just did it. I got me a new sponsor.
You know who it was? Me. I sponsored myself from my second to my seventh year.
Dead steps 1,2. By the way, ladies, if I come up to you tonight after the meeting and perhaps I'll posture myself and say, "Hey, would you like to go have coffee and talk about God? Okay.
I just heard a newcomer. Now, I want to tell you what that'll get you if you're like me. 7 years sober, I weigh 146 lbs.
I've lost my teeth again. I have no clue where they went. I was more depressed then than I have ever been at any point in my life.
And I'm convinced of this. AA doesn't work. I've been here seven years.
I've done it all. I think. And I can't call Barney because I haven't talked to him basically as a sponsor for 6 years.
I can't come to you because I've been lying to you about him. I'm at a jumping off spot sober. I don't know what to do.
So, I called the only friend I had left, my psychiatrist. Now, this is not an opinion. I don't want anybody to leave here tonight and say I gave this opinion.
It's not an opinion. This is my personal experience. I called my doctor and I said, "Hey, don't work.
I don't know what to do." And based on what I said to him, he called me in, he drew my blood, diagnosed me as having a chemical imbalance in my blood, and prescribed a drug called lithium. Don't judge me yet. And then he prescribed a drug called amatryptaline, which is a pain blocker.
And then he asked me if I would voluntarily participate in a new program for a drug they're doing, an anti-depressant, which we all know today is Prozac. And I said, "Yes, sir." Because I'm dying and I'm convinced AA is not working. And as I left the doctor's office with my prescriptions in hand, a voice came from nowhere.
Hey, call your sponsor. Uh, well, maybe I should. So, I called Barney up after I filled the prescriptions, got him in a little brown paper bag, and Barney says, "Meet me at the maid, right?" I thought, why can't he let me come out to his trailer where nobody is?
And then found out later he wanted me to meet him in public so there'd be witnesses around. So I walk into the maid, right? And there he sits in the center table, you know, like all the old-timers do, holding court.
And I walk over and I set my bag of pills down, of which I haven't taken any yet. And I looked at Barney cuz I've been diagnosed bipolar. And I looked at Barney and I said, "Barney, I'm bipolar." He looked at me without even taking a breath and he says, "I know it.
I know you're bipolar, pal. We've known for a long time you're bipolar." He says, "You know what? One of these days, you're going to be walking down 16th Street and you're going to hear the loudest explosion you've ever heard.
It's going to BE YOUR HEAD POPPING RIGHT OUT OF YOUR ASS. And you won't be bipolar no more. >> I hated his guts.
Then he said to me, "Dummy, I'm not a doctor. I'm just your sponsor. I can't tell you what to do.
But I do know this from my own experience with you. I know you have never beyond your first year incorporated the AA program as a way of life in your life. Therefore, it's my experience that you're going to get progressively worse and worse and worse until you either put a bottle in your mouth, a gun in your mouth, or do something to get you put away for the rest of your life.
I don't know about the other. He says, "I do know this. You have not tried a a therefore you should be 10 times worse cuz you have a soul sickness." You see, I have a soul sickness.
It's in the big book. You know what the soul? You know, I said problem centers in my mind.
I thought that meant my thinking that that was my problem. That's only the stem of the problem. The root is the soul sickness.
You see, soul is defined as the seed of man's thoughts, feelings, and emotions and actions. Therefore, I have a soul sickness. I have a separation from God, says Chuck C.
from whatever higher power I want to call it. But I have a separation. And somehow when I drink alcohol, it seems to curb that distance of separation to a point where I feel united with people.
And if I don't get relief, I have to drink again someday, take a pill, smoke a little bit, not have it for him in pot or do something. Instead, I got a maniac sponsor who bleeds and work in a program. He says, "Why don't you try this step?
You have never done that." He says, "Tell you what, give us two years of your life." Now, see, the first time they gave me a year. He says, "For the next two years, I want you to do everything we do activity-wise and service-wise like you've been doing, but this time I want you to take the 12 steps, too. And if you're not better in two years, I'll go to the doctor and I'll help you take your pill." He tricked me is what he did.
Took the pills, put them away, never took them, and took a chance that maybe there was some truth to that experience. And you know what? I did the steps the way they're outlined in the big book, Alcohol Shamus, precisely the way they're outlined.
I used the 12 and 12 to understand the emotional symptoms from fault having having what Bill Wilson had, the faulty emotional dependencies. And you know what? That's all I did.
I kept doing the service work I've always done. And by my ninth year sober, I was 242 lbs. My depression is gone.
My depression to this very day has never come back. I don't know where it went, but I'm grateful. And I still do steps 10, 11, and 12 on a daily basis to the best of my ability.
And you know what? My thinking cleared up as my actions changed. Do you know that?
I didn't know that. And do you know I had a dream? I want to share this with you newcomer in case you got a dream you don't think can come true.
I told my sponsor. My sponsor knew I had a dream. He told me to try.
He says if you don't try to access your dream, you're going to wake up retired someday beyond hope of a dream and you're going to regret that you didn't try. He says cuz if you try for your dream and you fail, it means that is not what God wanted for you. That's what you wanted.
And if your dream doesn't work out, God will open another door to go through. So you got to try. And he sold me on.
And the reason I didn't want to try is because I wanted to be a police officer. It's hard to be a cop when you've been arrested nine times for domestic violence, twice for attempted murder, 17 psychiatric institutionalizations. But I found out in Iowa that's considered good experience.
I did everything I was supposed to do. I followed my sponsor's direction to the letter, got me some lawyers, uh, approached some judges and we got my record expuned and uh, I remember when I applied for the sheriff's department. I didn't think I had a chance.
I even put down on the application 17 psychiatric institutions. I thought that was a good time. You know what?
I got called in for an oral interview. I had a psychiatric test. Now, you want to hear something that's amazing to me is because I had a report of manic depression, they drew my blood.
And you know, I no longer have a chemical imbalance in my blood. So, either I was misdiagnosed, which I think I was because a lot of people don't understand spiritual depression that I have. I'm talking about myself, nobody else.
I'm living proof that in my case that that was the case. And uh I recovered and I took the physical and passed my physical, went into the academy. Can you believe that?
Went into the academy, graduated fourth in my class out of 16, called my sponsor long distance, said, "Barney, I graduated." I said, "Will you come?" He said, and I heard my sponsor cry. He was proud of me. And he showed up with 30 people from my home group.
I mean, it's like Wayne's world just remember I told Barney on the phone. I said, "Barney, they gave me my gun." >> I heard Barney say, "Oh shit." And I want to be serious with you for a moment. There's only two or three times in my sobriety when I've not felt One of them was when they pinned that badge on me and I took an oath and uh I looked around and saw my friends from AA and uh I didn't feel That's a precious moment for me.
Um my 10th year sober, a lot of things were happening. I moved to California. Uh just wanted to move.
That's all. Nothing to it. Just wanted to move.
I'm in California now. I love it there. But I got to tell you about my last year.
Newcomer, my sponsor was telling the truth when he told me that the day was going to come that emotional storm of such severity would rock my foundation, my very foundation. And he said if it wasn't maintained according to the structure of alcohol economics, that wind would blow my foundation down and I would drink alcohol. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.
Last year when I was in between my 21st and 22nd year of sobriety, the wind blew. I was rocked. I'm going to tell you why.
When I was 18 years old, I was diagnosed as a psychopath by a panel of psychiatrists because I drank a bottle of tequila and tried to kill my family. Those doctors told me I'd never feel the emotion of love as long as I lived. I have no guilty conscience.
I have what's called a got caught conscience. When I get caught, I feel really bad. They said I would never know love.
That's what they said. And yet I started my talk out by telling you I love AA. Something's happened to me through the power of 12 suggested steps.
A god of my understanding and you people something powerful has happened in my life. It's inexplicable to me. I can't explain it.
Never gone to college. I've never been educated. Never been educated beyond a class.
I'm not a speaker. I've never been trained. I've never been taught.
I just come here and share my experience with you. And you laugh probably places where you should not have laughed. Thank God you do.
Last year, there's a gal I want to tell you about this. There's a gal that I fell in love with. Uh I kept her out of prison 10 years ago.
She was being sentenced to 5 years for a third felony DUI and I kind of liked her, so I went to bat for her. She went to AA and got pro. And uh we ended up getting engaged last May.
I was on top of the world. I never felt that before. I never felt what that was like because I was such a violent man.
I never thought I'd ever be involved with a woman. I'd never been married sober. And uh we got engaged.
Made a big deal out of it. Sent out 400 save the date cards. Don't want nobody to forget.
A month later, I come back from a convention and uh she gave me my ring back and broke up with me and went back to her ex-boyfriend. I mean no harm to her by that. She did exactly what she should have done.
And I should not come up here and say one bad thing about her if I really love her. And because I did love her, I I'm not going to say anything bad. Life happens.
But it did something to me I didn't understand. I called my sponsor up and I said, "What's wrong with me? I can't get off the floor.
I can't breathe." Cuz you see, I didn't think men did that. And my sponsor said, "You're suffering from a broken heart." I said, "What? Really?" He said, "Now you know the tragedy of Alcoholics Anonymous.
We don't have a step to work that'll mend a broken heart. I hope you have a lot of commitments to keep you busy." And you know what? I had commitments two years down the road.
I've got commitment. Some people say commitments in the future won't keep you sober. I'm here to report to you in living experience.
That the fact that I had commitments to keep kept me sober one day at a time when I didn't think I could take another breath because my heart hurts so bad. And then I got a letter in the mail about my 12-year-old son. Want tell you about the power of the program and the power of God.
God works in mysterious ways as wonders do perform. I got a 12-year-old son who lives with his mother in Illinois. Sober nine years married to a guy I used to sponsor.
I won't go any further with that. 12 years old, I got a subpoena in the mail and I'm being sued for the adoption of my son. Being cited for abandonment, desertion, and terrible accusations that uh you know, people do what they got to do.
That lawyer did a good job. He put in there what I was like and what I was like my first seven years sober. And you know what?
It was all true. Sometimes it takes a long time to recover. For me, my first seven years was just as ugly as my last seven years of drinking.
Only now I didn't have an excuse of drinking. And you know, the courts look at that. And my lawyer told me I didn't have a chance.
My sponsor said, "You don't have a chance." And he said, "Call your son, ask him what he wants." I picked up the phone. I called Zack. And Zach says, "I want to be adopted." I dropped the phone.
I couldn't breathe. And I thought, you know, what's the point? What's the point?
I called my sponsor. He said, "How many commitments you got?" I stayed sober on blind faith. Faith of an old-timer in AA.
And I kept doing the drill. Didn't even let you know how much pain I was in. You couldn't have told how much pain I was in.
I came up here. I wasn't faking it. I wasn't being phony.
We're taught in AA to put our best foot forward. And so I putting my best foot forward and then going home and calling my sponsor and crying. There's no sense making you suffer with me.
And then one day I got a call from my son's mother. She was drunk after 9 years. And she was hysterical and she says, "You got to come get your son.
He needs you." No, he's not my son anymore. You took him away from me. You have no idea.
You destroyed the rest of my life. That's not what I said. That's just what I thought.
What I said was, "Can I call you back?" I called my sponsor. What do I do? He says, "Buy a plane ticket and don't say nothing." Bought the plane ticket and went back there and spent.
And the reason she called me is because her and her husband had split up. He got drunk and some things had happened, I guess, and she left him. And so she called me up and uh I flew out there and I spent 5 days with who I knew was no longer legally my son.
I want to tell you about that. I went to Monterey Park Court with my best friend in AAA. I stood before the judge for the adoption proceeding and I signed him over.
The judge looked at me and he said, "Mr. Brother, do you realize you're signing irrevocable consent to adopt?" And I said, "Yes, sir." And he gave me my dignity. He said, "You realize that once you sign these papers that you can't even adopt your own son back?" Said, "I understand." He says, "So, I signed." And I left.
I knew I did the right thing, but I got to tell you, if you've ever done it, I know how you feel. I was on my knees in the bathroom puking for everything. I'm wor sober the first time.
Died again. And to go into a little further, a little while later, I got a phone call to come get my son. So, I went back there and I'm with him 5 days.
I don't even had the courage to tell him I'm not his father anymore. I don't know how to do it. I'm dying.
I went to meetings every day. I was home. And then after 5 days, I flew back to California and I died a thousand deaths.
I got to pay. But I went to meetings and nobody else knew I was suffering like that. I kept it to myself and to my sponsor.
I didn't say a bad word to his mother, nor did I say a bad word to him about his mother cuz you taught me that anyh how we do it in aa. You know what? But I got a phone call a while later.
I didn't know this. An attorney would know it, but I didn't know it. When I signed them papers in Monterey Park, they had to get back to the Rock Island County Courthouse within 60 days.
They never showed up. Apparently, they got lost in the mail. And he was still my son.
And do you know this very day, he's still my son? Cuz she realized what a bad thing that was and she opted not to try again. And then my son came and spent last summer with me.
God works in mysterious ways. I don't make fun of miracles in AA no more. And uh I didn't think I'd ever fall in love again.
And then I met Nora. Got to admit she's a picture to fall in love with. But man, I ain't going to go into that detail.
I don't have much time. But I'm a man who was told I'd never be in love. I'd never feel it.
You know, I found out what love is in aa. Love is doing for not expecting from. I can't do that all the time, but I do my very level best.
I try. And I I'll wrap it up with this little story. I got a few minutes left.
I was in a meeting a while. You know how we're told to keep commitments. It's about what I did for a living for a while.
I was asked to speak at this meeting. It was a psychiatric hospital meeting. I knew it.
Saturday night. I knew there'd be 14 people there, 10 with wristbands. And I agreed to speak.
Right. The Thursday before I supposed to speak, I got a phone call from my best friend. He was in Las Vegas.
He procured us ringside tickets for the Oscar de la Hoya fight Saturday night. I said, "Great." I called the secretary of that meeting up and I said and he said sure he's not going to tell me no keep your commitment. He agreed I could send a stub.
So I called one of my sponsors up and totally disrupted their Saturday night by saying cover for me. And of course they said yeah and then the limo came to my house took me to Vanise airport where the where the L jet was waiting for me to get me there in time. And just as I got one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder I saw my sponsor's face.
It's like a curse. And I knew if I called him Monday morning, cuz see he was out of town, I couldn't call and get his help. I knew if I called him, he'd tell me next time he need help, call Don King.
So I got off the plane, went back home, called my sponsor up and said, "I'll cover my talk." I went to the meeting, 14 people, 10 with wristbands, and I said, quote, "I'm Wayne. I'm alcoholic and I don't want to be here tonight. I'm blowing a fight that I get a championship fight ringside, and I'm here to talk to you guys." Then I made amends, got over myself, and gave my talk and realized how grateful it was I kept my word.
And you know what happened to me that night? A guy comes up to me and asks me if I'm an actor. I said, "Nope." says, "You want to be?" I says, "Well, I don't know." He offered me a job.
So, I looked for his wristband. Turns out he's the co-creator and writer of a nationally syndicated number one police series on television then. And I thought he was out of his mind.
I said, "Oh, sure. Glad to. I'll be there." So, Monday, Sunday night comes, I call my sponsor and I said, "What do I do?" He says, "Go, stupid." I didn't confuse that dialogue at all.
So, I showed up at Fox Studio the next day and events came to pass and and uh I got hired for that show last year. I'm not even an actor. I'm just a drunk.
And uh two weeks ago, I called him up and told him I couldn't do it. Told him that I don't want to be an actor and I was supposed to shoot a movie. Uh that would have taken 16 weeks.
And I hope this doesn't sound egotistical, but it would have meant I had to cancel 14 conferences I'm scheduled to go to this year. And I couldn't bring my heart to do it. I just couldn't do it.
It's not about ego. It's because I know who you people are. You're my life and you're my breath.
And I feel important when I'm with you. I feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. I feel like I've got a purpose here.
My life has been resurrected completely. I feel like I'm trying to get redemption for the way I used to live my life. And all I got to do is show up, suit up, try to pay respect to the one thing I love more than anything, I'll call it anonymous, and try to be the best member of AA I can be.
And I was willing to throw it all up. Lots of people said, "You're crazy." Maybe I am. I'm blowing an opportunity of a lifetime, they say.
Maybe I am. But I'm here with you tonight. That's not about ego.
That's one of the hardest phone calls I've ever made was to tell a director that uh I'm opting not to be an actor. I got friends in my home group think I'm out of my mind because they're actors and they never got the opportunity I got. But they're not here with you tonight and they're not going to be doing what I'm doing now.
It's important to me. My life depends on this. But not only that, but sitting up in Wes's room last night and he wasn't even under threat.
Those of you that are new in this room, you keep coming back. Alcoholics, in my opinion, is the greatest greatest deal in town if you suffer from what I suffer from. Alcoholism.
And tonight, I don't feel different. I feel a part of. I fit in here with you.
And I only know that when you share with me. And when you share with me that you have a soul sickness, it goes like this. When the soul hears the music, it'll dance to the tune.
And we come to life in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. And when you share your personal experience with me, that's the tune. And my soul hears it and it motivates me to take actions I would never think of taking in and of myself.
And therefore, I need to be here this weekend. I need to be at my home group. I need to be with my sponsor and those I sponsor.
And if that's all I'm asked of in AA, I can do that. Thank you for the weekend. >> Thank you for listening to Sober Sunrise.
If you enjoyed today's episode, please give it a thumbs up as it will help share the message. Until next time, have a great day.


