Susan J. Gibbons, M.S., is a mental health professional who has spent her career working with mentally ill adults and emotionally disturbed children. On September 11, 2006, she will celebrate eight years of continuous sobriety.
Back in 1985, SOS (Secular Organizations for Sobriety, or Save Our Selves) was founded by Jim Christopher as a vehicle to reach those struggling with the nightmare of addiction who weren't invested in the concept of a "higher power." Initially, mostly atheists, agnostics, and secular humanists responded positively to this concept. As word spread that there now existed an alternative for men and women uncomfortable with building their recovery on the idea of powerlessness, the organization grew and thrived. SOS is now an international organization of men and women, nonbelievers and believers alike, that welcomes anyone suffering from any form of addiction.
The differences between SOS and more traditional, twelve-step-based, self-help modalities are many, but I believe that one of the most telling is the notion that no person is truly powerless. The concept of being "powerless over one's addiction" is a basic tenet of the famous Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), Narcotics Anonymous (NA), and all the other "A"s. the addict must surrender to the proposition that recovery is impossible without the help of a higher power. Those who don't believe that a higher power exists are encouraged to create their own: AA literature suggests that the "higher-power" role can be played by the group, nature, the cosmos, or even-unbelievably-a doorknob. The idea is that no one has the strength or self-reliance to make it on one's own through the sometimes dangerous twists and turns of the recovery path. One must fall to one's knees and accept that asking for help from a nebulous entity is the only way to succeed. Furthermore, while making this plea, one must accept that one's inability to take control is the result of enormous defects in one's character.
This approach was not my cup of tea. I knew about SOS long before my journey to recovery started. When it became clear that my drinking was going to kill me if I didn't stop, there was no question in my mind that SOS would be my self-help method. From the time I walked out of the ICU (after a near-fatal incident brought on by my alcoholism) to the present, SOS has been the only self-help group with which I have engaged. Because there is such acute need for SOS and other alternatives to more traditional means of self-help, I've done my best to spread the word by starting and chairing groups and even by helping to persuade SOS's parent organization to hire a full-time coordinator for the State of New York. This step was not only justified but necessary, because demand had begun to exceed the supply of volunteers needed to start groups and keep them running. In Western New York, where I reside, growth has been remarkable. We went from one group in the year 2000, which was attended by one lone recovering person-myself-to seventeen in the Buffalo/Niagara Falls region alone. And the demand continues to increase.
Since that lonely first group at the Center for Inquiry in Amherst, New York, I've chaired more groups than I can count. I've had the pleasure of hearing, over and over again, the positive impact that SOS and its philosophy has had on those who are trying to achieve and maintain sobriety. The reason for this is quite simple: people are encouraged to focus on the positive aspects of recovery, to view themselves as people who can take charge of their lives, and to take full responsibility-and credit-for their successes as well as their failures. The idea of powerlessness in SOS is virtually nonexistent. There is no need to "surrender" to anything. One accepts the fact that drinking, using drugs, overeating, gambling-whatever the addictive behavior may be-is simply not an option. Sound like an oversimplification? That's because it is simple.
Recovery is not rocket science; it's common sense. The beauty of SOS is that the recovering person builds his or her own "toolkit," so that there's always a plan in place when urges strike and temptation presents itself. While this concept isn't complicated, achieving the end result can be daunting. Addictions can seemingly take on a life of their own. This robs the person of self-esteem and self-worth and can plunge him or her into the very depths of despair. The last thing that people who've gotten to this point need to hear is how "defective" they are.
Currently, I'm chairing two groups in my area: a women's group that is held at a halfway house owned by a local treatment provider and a group at a state correctional facility where the relapse prevention and work-release programs for inmates getting ready for parole are housed. The recovering individuals in both of these facilities are inundated on a daily basis with recovery-related rhetoric and ideas. It is, quite literally, the focus of their lives. Because twelve-step groups have become such a ubiquitous part of the substance-dependency landscape, most of what these people are exposed to is highly traditional. They, then, are among the most reliable reporters when it comes to giving feedback-positive or negative-about what works and what doesn't and the differences between the approaches.
Women who attend the SOS group at the halfway house tell me that they look forward to the meetings for a variety of reasons. They're encouraged to think for themselves and to take control of their lives. Meetings focus on advantages and strengths rather than on defects and weaknesses. "Drunkalogs"-the sharing of "war stories" by group members about what happened to them while they were drunk or high-don't take place. Cross-talk (open conversation, which is discouraged at AA meetings) is encouraged. Everyone's viewpoint is listened to, and constructive feedback is provided. The group leader isn't a "guru"; no one is more of an authority than anyone else simply because he or she has been sober for a longer period. It's a place where people can feel safe to talk about what's relevant to their daily lives, what their goals are for the future, and what kinds of things they can do to keep their recovery intact. Positive affirmations about their strength and worth as human beings are shared, and they are viewed as men or women "of character" rather than people who are suffering from immeasurable character defects.
The halfway house whose women's group I chair has opened its arms to SOS meetings and plays host to inpatient and community-based programs. Several members of my women's group tell me that the people they know who attend SOS seem to "do better" than those who attend solely more traditional twelve-step meetings. When I ask them why, the answer is fairly simple: SOS makes them feel good. It makes them feel as though they need to take full responsibility for their addiction, but not that they're bad people who need to take a moral inventory every time they open their eyes. They're human beings who happen to be afflicted with a problem that affects a growing number of people in our society, but they aren't social pariahs. In short, they can take charge of their lives and their sobriety, bearing in mind that they "cannot and do not drink or use no matter what." The inmates in the correctional facility, while having a somewhat different take on the whole concept of being in control of their lives, express similar sentiments. These are men incarcerated for various reasons, including multiple convictions for DWI (driving while intoxicated), dealing drugs, or stealing to get money for drugs. At this point, they honestly don't have control over their lives, but they're getting close to parole. The focus is on what tools they can build into their daily functioning so that, when they are released, they don't go back down the same road. For some, getting arrested again means another three to seven years or more in the state prison system.
Some inmates tend to be very committed to making the best of the recovery experience; others are merely paying lip service while they wait to get out. But the ones who are actually paying attention and trying to learn how to stay sober talk openly about the huge difference in the way they feel after SOS meetings as opposed to those of twelve-step programs. Some of the men have told me that the people who came in from "the outside" to hold the twelve-step meetings were condescending and acted as though they were doing the inmates a huge favor by showing up. They act as if the men in the group are the dregs of society and don't deserve a second chance. SOS doesn't make such sweeping judgments about anyone.
While some may view this approach as a sort of "Mary Sunshine" methodology, it is nothing of the sort. Giving people back the power to make their own decisions and letting them know that they are not powerless over their addictions and recoveries, puts the ball in their court. It makes each individual responsible for his or her actions in a way that "surrendering" cannot do. If, in fact, we are all powerless over our addictions, how can we expect to live without fear and a certain amount of self-loathing that naturally follow from this negative ideology? It comes down to a matter of choosing to live a life that is fulfilling without alcohol, drugs, or any other destructive or addictive behavior.
One of SOS's Six Guidelines for Sobriety-about as close to "steps" as SOS ever comes-states "A quality of life, 'the good life,' can be achieved." This is most certainly true. While one cannot negate the fact that traditional twelve-step programs and methodologies have worked for thousands, they don't work for everyone. For people who thrive on structure and are linear thinkers, this approach can work very well, which is a marvelous thing. But the idea that there is a "one-size-fits-all" way to attain and maintain sobriety is seriously flawed. Some people simply cannot wrap their heads around the idea that they either must attend meetings for the remainder of their lives or else they will fail. Many people who choose the SOS alternative go on to live "the good life" and may eventually come to a meeting only when they feel it is necessary. This contradicts the fatalistic pronouncements of many twelve-step "old timers" when a newcomer expresses dismay at having to attend a meeting several times a week indefinitely, maybe for life: miss a meeting and it's a sure return to the hell of addiction. That harsh idea has proven to be false for many. Then there's the old idea that any method of recovery other than AA's just plain doesn't work. That this is a fallacy needs to be shouted from the rooftops.
Just last week, one of the members of the women's group that I chair was talking about how she overheard another halfway house resident talking about "that SOS thing." That resident was telling another that "if you go to SOS, you'll start drinking again." My response to this was to smile broadly and say to the group member who was relating the story, "Tell her to join us next week. She can tell me why I'm doomed to fail, even though I haven't had a drink in seven and a half years."
SOS was a lifesaver for me. I had no desire to do any other kind of self-help work when I stopped drinking. Today, all these years later, I look back on the experience with a certain amount of awe. Through SOS, I was able to see my own strengths, which I had been drowning in cheap wine for several years. I was able to regain my self-worth, to take back my self-control, and to realize that the only person who has control over my addiction is me. I can choose to pick up a drink at any time, but I can choose not to as well. All of that lies within me, not within a "god of my understanding." I'm one of those in SOS who does believe in God. But, I also believe in me.
Photo Caption:CFI SUMMIT
OCTOBER 24-27 2013
TACOMA, WASHINGTON
Joint Conference of the Council for Secular Humanism, Center for Inquiry, and Committee for Skeptical Inquiry
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