Page 418 - The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous
P. 418

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                                       ACCEPTANCE WAS THE ANSWER

                                      The physician wasn’t hooked, he thought—he just
                                    prescribed drugs medically indicated for his many ail-
                                    ments. Acceptance was his key to liberation.



                                      f there ever was anyone who came to A.A. by
                                  Imistake, it was I. I just didn’t belong here. Never
                                 in my wildest moments had it occurred to me that I
                                 might like to be an alcoholic. Never once had my
                                 mother even hinted at the idea that, when I grew up,
                                 I might like to be president of A.A. Not only did I not
                                 think that being an alcoholic was a good idea, I didn’t
                                 even feel that I had all that much of a drinking prob-
                                 lem! Of course, I had problems, all sorts of problems.
                                 “If you had my problems, you’d drink too” was my
                                 feeling.
                                    My major problems were marital. “If you had my
                                 wife, you’d drink too.” Max and I had been married
                                 for twenty-eight years when I ended up in A.A. It
                                 started out as a good marriage, but it deteriorated
                                 over the years as she progressed through the various
                                 stages of qualifying for Al-Anon. At first, she would
                                 say, “You don’t love me. Why don’t you admit it?”
                                 Later, she would say, “You don’t like me. Why don’t
                                 you admit it?” And as her disease was reaching the
                                 terminal stages, she was screaming, “You hate me! You
                                 hate me! Why don’t you admit you hate me?” So I
                                 admitted it.
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