December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
December 10 — Recovered
I love alcoholics.
We’ll argue about anything.
Coffee strength, meeting formats, where the chairs should go… but the granddaddy of all pointless debates is the age-old battle of “recovered” vs. “recovering.”
My God, man.
You’ll hear someone stand up and proudly declare,
“I’m a recovered alcoholic,”
and they’ll back it up with Big Book quotes, 1939 history, dictionary definitions, footnotes, and maybe a timeline if you let them. They’ll die on that hill with perfect sobriety diction.
Then someone across the room fires back,
“You’re recovering! You’re not cured! You’re not a ham!”
And suddenly we’re off to the races. Two perfectly sober adults arguing like toddlers over who gets the blue crayon.
Here’s the truth — and it’s disappointingly simple:
They’re both right.
Hope that satisfies anyone's fragile little AA ego.
I am a recovered alcoholic because I found a Power greater than myself that released me from a hopeless state of mind and body.
And I am recovering because I’m still learning every day how to trust and rely on that Power instead of my own self-will.
Everybody wins.
Everybody gets a ribbon.
We’re all here, hopefully sober — if that’s your goal — and if arguing about a word is what’s keeping you from drinking today, then hey… welcome to AA.
How do you describe yourself — recovered, recovering, or something else — and what does that word actually mean in your experience?
