We all have God-given instincts that revolve around sex, socializing and security. Unfortunately, most addicts overdo all of them. We’ve never had any kind of limitation on any of these instincts, and we run on our own self-will. Like so many addicts, I didn’t believe I had any character defects. If everyone else would just get in line everything would be fine.

The truth is, I did have character defects and every one of them stemmed from these three instincts. Fortunately, around the time I realized this, I was ready for God to help change these areas of my life. Of course, that’s easier said than done. It was a huge hill to climb. I also had to learn that the instincts themselves aren’t wrong. It’s how we act on them. For instance, anger, when acted on in a negative way, is a character defect, but if we didn’t have any anger we’d all be walking around like zombies. After years of being sober and in recovery, I still have every character defect I ever had. The difference is I don’t act out on them and I don’t react to them.

It’s a process that I still take day by day. As I’ve said before, I have to think myself into correct actions and act my way into correct thinking. If we didn’t have any jealousy or anger we wouldn’t be human. But it’s a short step to acting out on those feelings, actions that I know from experience lead to guilt, shame and grief as well as a desire to drink to escape those feelings. Knowledge is power, and knowing what can lead me to that dangerous place is the only way I can successfully avoid it.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he has brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and many incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001.

Many people enter the recovery process with the attitude, “there are certain things I’m not going to give up or change.” I felt that way. But I’ve since learned that when the pain is great enough, I’m going to do whatever I have to do to stay sober. That’s the ultimate goal: maintaining my sobriety.

To me, when someone makes the statement that they’re never going to give up something that is obviously a character defect (see Step 6 in A.A. for more on character defects), that person is not 100 percent willing to recover. The good news is, sometimes we don’t need to be 100 percent willing — if you’re certain you can handle the result. For example, say a recovering alcoholic has a penchant for gambling. He knows it’s a character defect, but he’s unwilling to give it up, insisting he can handle the outcome. And most of the time, he can. Until he has a really bad day, one where he loses his job or his wife threatens to leave or his car breaks down. On a day like that, all it would take is a few losses at the casino to make drinking again seem like a reasonable idea. We can set ourselves up for failure if we’re not willing to turn over ALL our character defects to a higher power. That doesn’t mean just giving up the ones that you won’t miss that much but also the ones that you know have cost you dearly in the past. You’ve got to be willing to surrender them all.

If I’m not spiritually fit on any given day, even though I’ve surrendered and worked the steps to the best of my ability, I know I can get drunk again. Part of being spiritually fit for me was being willing to allow God to remove these defects. I always have fear for someone when they say they’re not willing to give up something. This is about surrendering to win and if you’re not willing to surrender everything, you’re putting yourself in danger of turning back to your drug of choice. There’s no positive in that.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he has brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he has experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and many incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001.

As an alcoholic, I was selfish. It was all about me, me, me. I didn’t put my family first. I wasn’t a good steward of my money. I would overspend and buy things that made me look good. Instead of taking my daughter on vacation, I would buy a new car (without consulting my significant other, of course!). I didn’t give a thought to how to pay for it until the first bill came, and I didn’t think about how my actions would affect or hurt those around me. At the time, I never thought I was selfish or self-centered. That’s just what the disease wanted.

In recovery, it’s a whole different world. The process goes against everything an addicted person wants to hear. Admitting we’re powerless, finding God, cleaning house, helping others — those things weren’t on my agenda. But as I took it one step or one change at a time, I saw myself more clearly. And as I confronted who I had been and who I was now, I could see the connection between actions that led to feelings that led me to drink as a way to escape. By recognizing them and facing them head on, my agenda changed drastically.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he has brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and many incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001.

We’ve all done it, tried to justify or rationalize a behavior we knew was wrong. “If you only knew how I felt.” “If you had the wife I had.” “If you had the job I had.” We justify.

When I was a kid I never dreamed of going to jail, that was a fear. But then it happened and I went through the shame, fear, etc. that goes along with getting arrested. But as my drinking continued to lead to trouble with the law, something strange happened: I started thinking of jail – something that had been unimaginable to me years earlier — as something that just happened and was okay. In addition, I blamed others for my predicament. I was resentful of the cops who seemed to be targeting me, I was resentful of the doctor who told me I had early cirrhosis. The problem is, that through the process of justifying our unjustifiable actions, we get further and further away from reality.

Finally, after all the justifying and rationalizing, I stopped and took a look at what part I played in what was happening in my life. One of the reasons we justify is that we don’t want to face life on life’s terms. But it’s not possible to avoid that indefinitely. Life catches up with us, and when it does, it’s a real reality check. But that can be a good thing. It forced me to realize that I don’t ever want to do those things again and to figure out what I needed to do to make that my new reality.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he has brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and 14 incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001.

Learning to leave your ego at the door is the step in recovery that separates the men from the boys. I like to think of ego as standing for “Edging God Out.” But it wasn’t easy for me.

I was an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. I could talk the talk, I never backed down from a fight, but I was also so fearful. I would only wear certain clothes because I wanted people to see me in a certain way. Ego played such a tremendous part in my life as an alcoholic.

Laying down your ego is nothing less than a battle step in the 12-step process. You have to apply the action. The good news is, once you actually go through the steps, you realize that it’s not as big of a deal. No one wants to admit the things they’ve done under the influence, but it’s such a soul-searching, cleansing process. And often the secrets we think we’re keeping aren’t so secret after all.

When I was in my late teens, my dad ran a service station. I’d be partying so I would take money out of the register to fund my fun. It was action born out of ego. I didn’t want anybody to see that I didn’t have any money. Later, to chase away the shame I felt over my actions, I’d drink. Years later, I was still carrying around all this guilt and felt horrible. I finally confessed, and my dad admitted that he’d known all along. He never confronted me because he thought I’d grow out of it.

There’s no room for self-righteousness in recovery. We need to leave our egos behind and get real in order to get healthy. I’m so glad I did.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where’s he brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and 14 incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001.

In any 12-step group, part of the recovery process includes taking a searching moral inventory of ourselves. That’s a scary thought for most of us. Addiction has made all of us do things we’re not proud of, and so often we beat ourselves up over the past. But before you get too busy focusing on all your downfalls, don’t forget to factor in your good traits, too.

It is important to take an honest look at ourselves – both the good and the bad. The things we don’t own up to or deal with are only going to hurt our chances of staying sober. But it’s important to remember we’re so much more than our mistakes. We all have a place here, and the process of recovery isn’t meant to destroy us. Instead, it allows us to discover who we are and why we do what we do.

When I decided to turn my thinking and actions over to God eight years ago, I knew I needed to start with my thinking. Like so many others, I used substances to block out the things about myself that I didn’t like. Now, I’ve learned to look at my motives and change my thinking.

It’s an ongoing process. I’ll keep taking inventory throughout my life. When I see something wrong, I stop and quickly admit it. But it’s not all about those bad traits. When I see something good, I’m careful to take notice of that as well.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he’s brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and 14 incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001 and says, “I love what I do. I don’t see me doing anything other than working in this field.”

It’s one thing to take a searching moral inventory, it’s another thing to commit those negative traits and past mistakes to paper. There’s something about writing something down that makes it so real, so permanent.

I had fear of putting certain things on paper where someone could discover those secrets I’d protected for so long. It was only when my pain became great enough that surrender became easier. Eventually, everyone struggling with an addiction is either going to fight to the bitter end or pick up the tools. I chose to pick up the tools.

Once I gave in, I learned there’s magic in the pen. We may give a lot of thought to the things we’ve done, but until we actually pick up a pen and put it all on paper it’s hard to get past it. Only when we write it down does it actually become alive – more importantly, at the same time we kill it.

I knew I needed to do it 100 percent. I knew it was important to be as thorough as I could because those who don’t do this step are more likely to relapse. And when I started putting it on paper, I got an added benefit. It helped me figure out what made me tick. I discovered what I could do, what I couldn’t do. Most importantly, it gave me release.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he’s brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and 14 incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001 and says, “I love what I do. I don’t see me doing anything other than working in this field.”

All of us have a handful of real resentments that we hang on to. The key to letting them go is to look at who we’re angry at, why we’re angry and how it’s affecting us. Then there’s the hardest question to answer: What part did we play in it?

For addicts, we like to blame everything on the alcohol. Cheating, lying, fighting, stealing … blame it on the alcohol. I would do things when I was drinking that I would never do sober. I may have had the same desires before I took a drink, but the alcohol allowed me to act on them.

We also like to blame others. Someone had me put in jail on the day of my divorce for driving without a license. I was angry and I blamed them for causing my problems. My real problem, though, was that I had lost my license for driving drunk. That was my fault.

I used to say the alcohol made me crazy, but the truth is my life was unmanageable before I took a drink. Alcohol was just a symptom of that. So it’s not enough to simply stop drinking. It’s only once we get real with ourselves and admit our role in what we’ve done that we can begin to experience lasting change.

Harold Connell is an Outreach Specialist at La Paloma Treatment Center in Memphis, Tennessee, where he has brought numerous people into treatment. In addition to his experience as a professional on staff, he’s experienced addiction from the other side as well. After 10 attempts at treatment and 14 incarcerations he finally surrendered. He’s been sober since January 4, 2001 and says, “I love what I do. I don’t see me doing anything other than working in this field.”