NA Whitebook

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Foreword

This booklet is an introduction to the Fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous. It is written for

those men and women who, like ourselves, suffer from a seemingly hopeless addiction to drugs.

There is no cure for addiction, but recovery is possible by a program of simple spiritual

principles. This booklet is not meant to be comprehensive, but it contains the essentials that in

our personal and group experience we know to be necessary for recovery.


Serenity Prayer

God, grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference.


Who is an addict?

Most of us do not have to think twice about this question. We know! Our whole life and

thinking was centered in drugs in one form or another—the getting and using and finding ways

and means to get more. We lived to use and used to live. Very simply, an addict is a man or

woman whose life is controlled by drugs. We are people in the grip of a continuing and

progressive illness whose ends are always the same: jails, institutions, and death.


What is the Narcotics Anonymous program?

NA is a nonprofit fellowship or society of men and women for whom drugs had become a

major problem. We are recovering addicts who meet regularly to help each other stay clean.

This is a program of complete abstinence from all drugs. There is only one requirement for

membership, the desire to stop using. We suggest that you keep an open mind and give

yourself a break. Our program is a set of principles written so simply that we can follow them

in our daily lives. The most important thing about them is that they work.

There are no strings attached to NA. We are not affiliated with any other organizations. We

have no initiation fees or dues, no pledges to sign, no promises to make to anyone. We are not

connected with any political, religious, or law enforcement groups, and are under no

surveillance at any time. Anyone may join us, regardless of age, race, sexual identity, creed,

religion, or lack of religion.

We are not interested in what or how much you used or who your connections were, what

you have done in the past, how much or how little you have, but only in what you want to do

about your problem and how we can help. The newcomer is the most important person at any

meeting, because we can only keep what we have by giving it away. We have learned from our

group experience that those who keep coming to our meetings regularly stay clean.


Why are we here?

Before coming to the Fellowship of NA, we could not manage our own lives. We could not

live and enjoy life as other people do. We had to have something different and we thought we

had found it in drugs. We placed their use ahead of the welfare of our families, our wives,

husbands, and our children. We had to have drugs at all costs. We did many people great harm,

but most of all we harmed ourselves. Through our inability to accept personal responsibilities

we were actually creating our own problems. We seemed to be incapable of facing life on its

own terms.

Most of us realized that in our addiction we were slowly committing suicide, but addiction is

such a cunning enemy of life that we had lost the power to do anything about it. Many of us

ended up in jail, or sought help through medicine, religion, and psychiatry. None of these

methods was sufficient for us. Our disease always resurfaced or continued to progress until, in

desperation, we sought help from each other in Narcotics Anonymous.

After coming to NA we realized we were sick people. We suffered from a disease from which

there is no known cure. It can, however, be arrested at some point, and recovery is then possible.


How it works

If you want what we have to offer, and are willing to make the effort to get it, then you are

ready to take certain steps. These are the principles that made our recovery possible.

1. We admitted that we were powerless over our addiction, that our lives had

become unmanageable.

2. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God

as we understood Him.

4. We made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. We admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature

of our wrongs.

6. We were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. We humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends

to them all.

9. We made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would

injure them or others.

10. We continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God

as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power

to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to

addicts, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

This sounds like a big order, and we can’t do it all at once. We didn’t become addicted in one

day, so remember—easy does it.

There is one thing more than anything else that will defeat us in our recovery; this is an

attitude of indifference or intolerance toward spiritual principles. Three of these that are

indispensable are honesty, open-mindedness, and willingness. With these we are well on our

way.

We feel that our approach to the disease of addiction is completely realistic, for the

therapeutic value of one addict helping another is without parallel. We feel that our way is

practical, for one addict can best understand and help another addict. We believe that the

sooner we face our problems within our society, in everyday living, just that much faster do we

become acceptable, responsible, and productive members of that society.

The only way to keep from returning to active addiction is not to take that first drug. If you

are like us you know that one is too many and a thousand never enough. We put great

emphasis on this, for we know that when we use drugs in any form, or substitute one for

another, we release our addiction all over again.

Thinking of alcohol as different from other drugs has caused a great many addicts to relapse.

Before we came to NA, many of us viewed alcohol separately, but we cannot afford to be

confused about this. Alcohol is a drug. We are people with the disease of addiction who must

abstain from all drugs in order to recover.


What can I do?

Begin your own program by taking Step One from the previous chapter, “How It Works.”

When we fully concede to our innermost selves that we are powerless over our addiction, we

have taken a big step in our recovery. Many of us have had some reservations at this point, so

give yourself a break and be as thorough as possible from the start. Go on to Step Two, and so

forth, and as you go on you will come to an understanding of the program for yourself. If you

are in an institution of any kind and have stopped using for the present, you can, with a clear

mind, try this way of life.

Upon release, continue your daily program and contact a member of NA. Do this by mail, by

phone, or in person. Better yet, come to our meetings. Here you will find answers to some of the

things that may be disturbing you now.

If you are not in an institution, the same holds true. Stop using for today. Most of us can do

for eight or twelve hours what seems impossible for a longer period of time. If the obsession or

compulsion becomes too great, put yourself on a five-minute basis of not using. Minutes will

grow to hours, and hours to days, so you will break the habit and gain some peace of mind. The

real miracle happens when you realize that the need for drugs has in some way been lifted from

you. You have stopped using and started to live.


The Twelve Traditions of NA

We keep what we have only with vigilance, and just as freedom for the individual comes

from the Twelve Steps, so freedom for the group springs from our traditions.

As long as the ties that bind us together are stronger than those that would tear us apart, all

will be well.

1. Our common welfare should come first; personal recovery depends on NA unity.

2. For our group purpose there is but one ultimate authority—a loving God as He may express

Himself in our group conscience. Our leaders are but trusted servants; they do not govern.

3. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop using.

4. Each group should be autonomous except in matters affecting other groups or

NA as a whole.

5. Each group has but one primary purpose—to carry the message to the addict

who still suffers.

6. An NA group ought never endorse, finance, or lend the NA name to any related facility or

outside enterprise, lest problems of money, property, or prestige divert us from our

primary purpose.

7. Every NA group ought to be fully self-supporting, declining outside contributions.

8. Narcotics Anonymous should remain forever nonprofessional, but our service centers may

employ special workers.

9. NA, as such, ought never be organized, but we may create service boards or committees

directly responsible to those they serve.

10. Narcotics Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues; hence the NA name ought never be

drawn into public controversy.

11. Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always

maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio, and films.

12. Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions, ever reminding us to place

principles before personalities.


Recovery and relapse

Many people think that recovery is simply a matter of not using drugs. They consider a

relapse a sign of complete failure, and long periods of abstinence a sign of complete success. We

in the recovery program of Narcotics Anonymous have found that this perception is too

simplistic. After a member has had some involvement in our fellowship, a relapse may be the

jarring experience that brings about a more rigorous application of the program. By the same

token we have observed some members who remain abstinent for long periods of time whose

dishonesty and self-deceit still prevent them from enjoying complete recovery and acceptance

within society. Complete and continuous abstinence, however, in close association and

identification with others in NA groups, is still the best ground for growth.

Although all addicts are basically the same in kind, we do, as individuals, differ in degree of

sickness and rate of recovery. There may be times when a relapse lays the groundwork for

complete freedom. At other times that freedom can only be achieved by a grim and obstinate

willfulness to hang on to abstinence, come hell or high water, until a crisis passes. An addict

who by any means can lose, even for a time, the need or desire to use, and has free choice over

impulsive thinking and compulsive action, has reached a turning point that may be the decisive

factor in his recovery. The feeling of true independence and freedom hangs here at times in the

balance. To step out alone and run our own lives again draws us, yet we seem to know that

what we have has come from dependence on a Power greater than ourselves and from the

giving and receiving of help from others in acts of empathy. Many times in our recovery the old

bugaboos will haunt us. Life may again become meaningless, monotonous, and boring. We may

tire mentally in repeating our new ideas and tire physically in our new activities, yet we know

that if we fail to repeat them we will surely take up our old practices. We suspect that if we do

not use what we have, we will lose what we have. These times are often the periods of our

greatest growth. Our minds and bodies seem tired of it all, yet the dynamic forces of change or

true conversion, deep within, may be working to give us the answers that alter our inner

motivations and change our lives.

Recovery as experienced through our Twelve Steps is our goal, not mere physical abstinence.

To improve ourselves takes effort, and since there is no way in the world to graft a new idea on

a closed mind, an opening must be made somehow. Since we can do this only for ourselves, we

need to recognize two of our seemingly inherent enemies, apathy and procrastination. Our

resistance to change seems built in, and only a nuclear blast of some kind will bring about any

alteration or initiate another course of action. A relapse, if we survive it, may provide the charge

for the demolition process. A relapse and sometimes subsequent death of someone close to us

can do the job of awakening us to the necessity for vigorous personal action.


Just for today

Tell yourself:

Just for today, my thoughts will be on my recovery, living and enjoying life without the use of drugs.

Just for today, I will have faith in someone in NA who believes in me and wants to help me in

my recovery.

Just for today, I will have a program. I will try to follow it to the best of my ability.

Just for today, through NA, I will try to get a better perspective on my life.

Just for today, I will be unafraid. My thoughts will be on my new associations, people who are

not using and who have found a new way of life. So long as I follow that way, I have

nothing to fear.

Personal stories

Narcotics Anonymous has grown a great deal since 1953. The people who started this fellowship and for

whom we have a deep and lasting affection have taught us much about addiction and recovery. In the following

pages we offer you our beginnings. The first section was written in 1965 by one of our earliest members. More

recent stories of NA members' recovery can be found in our Basic Text, Narcotics Anonymous.


We do recover

Although “Politics makes strange bedfellows,” as the old saying goes, addiction makes us

one of a kind. Our personal stories may vary in individual pattern but in the end we all have the

same thing in common. This common illness or disorder is addiction. We know well the two

things that make up true addiction: obsession and compulsion. Obsession—that fixed idea that

takes us back time and time again to our particular drug, or some substitute, to recapture the

ease and comfort we once knew.

Compulsion—once having started the process with one fix, one pill, or one drink we cannot

stop through our own power of will. Because of our physical sensitivity to drugs, we are

completely in the grip of a destructive power greater than ourselves.

When at the end of the road we find that we can no longer function as human beings, either

with or without drugs, we all face the same dilemma. What is there left to do? There seems to be

this alternative: either go on as best we can to the bitter ends—jails, institutions, or death—or

find a new way to live. In years gone by, very few addicts ever had this last choice. Those who

are addicted today are more fortunate. For the first time in man's entire history, a simple way

has been proving itself in the lives of many addicts. It is available to us all. This is a simple

spiritual—not religious—program, known as Narcotics Anonymous.

When my addiction brought me to the point of complete powerlessness, uselessness, and

surrender some fifteen years ago, there was no NA. I found AA, and in that fellowship met

addicts who had also found that program to be the answer to their problem. However, we knew

that many were still going down the road of disillusion, degradation, and death, because they

were unable to identify with the alcoholic in AA. Their identification was at the level of

apparent symptoms and not at the deeper level of emotions or feelings, where empathy

becomes a healing therapy for all addicted people. With several other addicts and some

members of AA who had great faith in us and the program, we formed, in July of 1953, what we

now know as Narcotics Anonymous. We felt that now the addict would find from the start as

much identification as each needed to convince himself that he could stay clean by the example

of others who had recovered for many years.

That this was what was principally needed has proved itself in these passing years. That

wordless language of recognition, belief, and faith, which we call empathy, created the

atmosphere in which we could feel time, touch reality, and recognize spiritual values long lost

to many of us. In our program of recovery we are growing in numbers and in strength. Never

before have so many clean addicts, of their own choice and in free society, been able to meet

where they please, to maintain their recovery in complete creative freedom.

Even addicts said it could not be done the way we had it planned. We believed in openly

scheduled meetings—no more hiding as other groups had tried. We believed this differed from

all other methods tried before by those who advocated long withdrawal from society. We felt

that the sooner the addict could face his problem in everyday living, just that much faster

would he become a real, productive citizen. We eventually have to stand on our own feet and

face life on its own terms, so why not from the start.

Because of this, of course, many relapsed and many were lost completely. However, many

stayed and some came back after their setback. The brighter part is the fact that of those who are

now our members, many have long terms of complete abstinence and are better able to help the

newcomer. Their attitude, based on the spiritual values of our steps and traditions, is the

dynamic force that is bringing increase and unity to our program. Now we know that the time

has come when that tired old lie, “Once an addict, always an addict,” will no longer be tolerated

by either society or the addict himself. We do recover.


One third of my life

Today has been one of those days. It was Friday and Monday all together. Trying to get

something done was like trying to make a connection when the heat was on. It was a panic all

day, but when I got home and lay down for an hour, it felt good. I can go on a natural nod,

because I have nothing up here now but a clear conscience. The old hassle is gone. I can lie

down, take it easy, and be comfortable. The longer I stay clean, the better it gets for me. It’s real

groovy to get up in the morning and not care whether it’s foggy or the sun’s shining, just so

long as I’m clean. No cramps and no sweats now. I remember the times when I’d be afraid to go

to sleep, because I had a “git up” there on the dresser; but if I took my “git up” I’d have nothing

when I got up and then I’d be sick again.

I never thought I’d feel good being out here with the squares, but now I think sometimes I

feel the same things they do. I don’t have all those petty little things going through my mind

now, like I did when I thought I was hip—so slick. The only one I was being hip and slick with

was me. Everybody else could see right through me. I don’t have a running nose anymore and

no itchiness unless it’s an allergy or something. I can go home now at night to clean sheets and

blankets, say my little prayers, and go to sleep. It’s real good for me.

Yesterday was pay day. I went out and bought myself a few presents—not Christmas

shoplifting you know. Now, I can go through these stores without even a temptation to steal.

This is my third Christmas on the bricks and I can’t think of anything I’ve stolen since I’ve been

out of the joint. I feel that I was basically honest from childhood. I stole to keep up my habit, to

get my stuff, to keep my head on my chest, to keep my stomach from grinding, and to keep my

nose from running. That nose! It was always running whether I was sick or not.

My story is similar to many others. I hit one nuthouse when I was thirteen—I really don’t

remember much about it. That was on an OD of amphetamines, they thought I was a manicdepressive

till I cleaned up off the pills, and then they figured I was just a neurotic.

It progressed though. I started to make the joints. I’m thirty now and there’s twelve-and-ahalf

years gone out of my life like this. Man, I sure don’t want anymore of it. Since I’ve been out

of the joint about three years I can’t say I haven’t had the temptation; I can’t say I haven’t had

some obsession; I can’t say I haven’t had the passing thought of wanting to use, because I have

at times. Now, however, it’s like the passing thought of “There is a real nice car there. I’d like

one like that,” and then it’s gone, and so is the thought. I notice that the times and the periods

are getting farther apart when they happen.

I haven’t had a driving obsession to get my head on my chest for over two years now, and

this is really something. I now try to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I

understand Him. Sometimes I like to try to play God and run everything but it doesn’t work

that way. The longer I stay around and stay clean, the groovier it gets. The last time I came out, I

was a scared, sniveling little snot, double hip, double slick, still walking that walk and talking

that talk. Now, I go back to the institutions every week I can make it. I went back to my home

group a while back and it was greater than my birthday. You know those guys accepted me

back and were glad to see me.

I gave a lot of them a hard time with the attitudes I used to have. At that time nothing was

any good; everything was rotten, except dope. Sure, I had a craving for drugs, but at that time I

was ready for anything that would get my feet off the ground. Now, however, I know that

anything that would get my feet off the ground (that isn’t an airplane) will head me for real

trouble. I sincerely believe this. I don’t know if I work the Twelve Steps to the best of my ability

or not, but I do know I’ve been clean about three years by practicing them the best I can.

When things start buggin’ me now, I know where most of the trouble lies: me. Now I find I

have a greater tolerance for people and a lot more patience all around; this is a big change for

me. Practicing the principles of this program the way I understand them, staying clean a day at

a time, sharing experiences with other addicts who are new to the program—these actions have

changed my whole outlook on life. It’s a good way to live.


I can’t do any more time

I came to the Fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous as an addict, out of an institution for

women. I came the first night I got out and it’s been here that I’ve learned how to live, so that it

hasn’t been necessary for me to use any kind of drugs in my daily life. It has been here that I’ve

learned a lot about myself, because we addicts are so very much alike. I’ve always seen another

side of myself whenever problems and suggested solutions have been discussed at our

meetings. I have learned, from those who are following the program of recovery to the best of

their ability, how I can do the same if I am willing to make the effort. I have also learned from

those who have made mistakes. I feel bad when I see that some leave this fellowship to try the

old way again, but I know that I don’t have to do that if I don’t want to. Also, it has not been

necessary for me to steal or to write any bad checks.

My addiction goes way back. I was drinking abusively, when I first started at sixteen, and I

realize today that the reason for that was I was sick to begin with. I had this emotional illness

and it was very deep. I don’t think that, if I hadn’t been emotionally ill to begin with, I would

have gotten carried away with using. When it became noticeable that I was using alcohol more

and more, being in the nursing profession, I tried experimenting with other drugs. It grew and

grew and became a horrible problem.

Although this is certainly a suicidal path in itself, when I was aware and in a lucid moment, I

did realize I was hopelessly addicted. I did not know that there was any answer. There really

wasn’t at that time. I was in San Francisco, not knowing which way to turn, when I tried suicide

and was unsuccessful. I was twenty-six years old at that time. I now think that if it had been

possible for me, I would have come to this program at that same age as a lot who are here today.

My pattern, however, continued. I had lost not only my self-respect but the respect and love

of my family, my children, and my husband. I had lost my home and my profession. Somehow

or other, I hadn’t reached the point where I wanted to try this way of life or to try it all the way.

I just had to go on and try in my own way. I tried drugs again and was finally committed to

another institution three times. The last time I went there I just felt that I couldn’t do any more

time. I didn’t immediately connect it with my addiction. I just couldn’t do any more time. It

wasn’t the thought, “I can’t use drugs,” just, “I can’t do any more time.” I just felt completely

hopeless and helpless and I didn’t have any answers. All of my emotional and spiritual pride

had gone.

I’m sure that when I was in the institution they doubted my sincerity in ever wanting to do

anything about my problem. However, I did want to do something about it, and I know that

this program doesn’t work until we really do want it for ourselves. It’s not for people who need

it but for people who want it. I finally wanted it so bad I knocked on doors of psychiatrists,

psychologists, chaplains, and anywhere I could.

I think one of my counselors, who just naturally loves all people, gave me a lot of

encouragement, for I thoroughly took my first three steps. I admitted I was powerless over my

addiction, that my life was unmanageable. I had tried so many other things, so I decided a

Power greater than myself could restore my sanity. To the best of my ability I turned my life

and my will over to the care of God as I understood Him, and I tried in my daily life to

understand God.

I had read all kinds of metaphysical books. I agreed with them and thought they were great,

but I never took any action on them. I never tried any faith in my daily living. It’s amazing how

after I had gotten just this far, I began to get a little honesty and could see myself as I was. I

doubted that I could get honest, but I became aware of myself by looking outside myself at the

addicts around me, by getting to know them and understand them, by being friendly with them.

I would like to give credit where credit is due, and I do believe that my daily attendance at

psychotherapy groups with very understanding psychologists helped me become aware of

myself so that I might do something about my problem; but when I came out, I thought, “Oh!

Can I make it outside?” So many times institutions took so many years out of my life that I

wondered if I could stay clean and do ordinary things. I doubted whether I could go ahead with

just normal living, but God has seen fit to see that I have been provided for in this last year and

a half. I’ve been able to work regularly; I didn’t have steady jobs at first, but there was never

any long period in between them.

Although for a time I threw out the idea of going back to my profession, which is nursing, I

have since reconsidered this and am now in the process of perhaps returning to full-time

nursing. With the help of some very understanding people I have met, the future here looks

very bright. In the meantime, I give myself to my job every day, as best I can, and have been

doing it successfully, despite the fact that when I left the institution for the last time everyone

thought I was unemployable.

To me this is a spiritual program and the maintenance and growth of a spiritual experience.

Without the kind of help and the therapy of one addict talking to and helping another, I know

that it wouldn’t have been possible for me. The obsession to use drugs has been completely

removed from me during this period, and I know that it’s only by the grace of God. I now give

my attention to my daily problems. It’s amazing, having had a pattern of fear, anxiety,

resentment, and self-pity, how much of this, too, has been removed. No longer do these sway

my life. I ask for help every morning, and I count my blessings every night. I’m real grateful

that I don’t have to go through the sickness that accompanies the taking of drugs of any kind.

I think one of the biggest things that helped me here was that this is a program of complete

abstinence. I got over the idea that I had a “dual problem.” I don’t have a problem with this

drug or that drug; I have a living problem, and this is all I need to think about today.

I got a lot of help from my sponsor when it seemed that everyone had let me down, both

family and friends. I don’t know what I would have done had it not been for the doors that she

opened in her letters. She shared her experience, her strength, and her hope with me, and it was

very beneficial. She continues to be my very good friend. Here in NA I have found a family,

friends, and a way of life. My own family has also been restored to me through working these

steps, and not through directly working on the problem. A lot of wonderful things have

happened to me. I can’t conceive of anything ever happening that would make me want to

forget this way of life.


The vicious cycle

I am Gene and I am an addict. In writing this I hope that I can help other addicts like myself,

who are trying to overcome their addiction by substituting one thing for another. That was my

pattern. I started drinking, whenever possible, at the age of fourteen. With this I added weed so

that I could feel at ease and be comfortable with my surroundings in the social activities in high

school.

At seventeen, I started on heroin and quickly became addicted. After using heroin for oneand-

a-half years, I decided to admit myself to an institution. When they accepted my

application, I got scared and joined the Army after kicking at home. I thought that by being

away from my environment I would be able to solve my problem.

Even here I found myself going AWOL to get more heroin. I was then shipped to Europe and

thought that if I just drank, that would be the answer, but again I found nothing but trouble.

Upon my release I came back home to the same environment. Again I was using heroin and

various other drugs. This lasted about two years.

The rat race really began when I tried to clean up—cough syrup, bennies, fixes, etc. By now, I

didn’t know where one addiction left off and the other started. A year before I came to

Narcotics Anonymous I found myself hopelessly addicted to cough syrup, drinking five or six

four-ounce bottles a day. I needed help so I went to a doctor; he prescribed dexedrine and

would give me a shot that made me feel good. I found myself going to him practically every

day.

This continued for about eight months, and I was very happy with my new found legal

addiction. I was also getting codeine from a different doctor. I now became insanely afraid and

began drinking too. This went on around the clock for a month and I ended up in a mental

institution. After being released from the hospital, I thought I was free from narcotics and now I

could drink socially. I soon found out I could not. It was then that I sought help from NA.

Here I learned that my real problem did not lie in the drugs that I had been using, but in a

distorted personality that had developed over the years of my using and even before that. In

NA I was able to help myself with the help of others in the fellowship. I find I am making

progress in facing reality and I’m growing a day at a time. I find new interests now that mean

something, and realize that that was one of the things which I was looking for in drugs.

Sometimes I still find it difficult to face things, but I’m no longer alone and can always find

someone to help me over the rough and confused spots. I have finally found people like myself

who understand how I feel. I’m now able to help others to find what I have, if they really want

it. I thank God, as I understand Him, for this way of life.


Something meaningful

I know now I am not the great leader or philosopher that I tried to make people believe I was.

After fifteen years of trying to live this illusion, I now find that I am being accepted for just what

I really am. All my life before this, I did things my way. If anyone else ever offered advice or

suggestions, I rebuffed them with a closed mind without ever trying what they had to offer to

see whether it would succeed or fail. It seems that though my way always failed, I had to use

again, until repeated trips to jail began to convince me that something was wrong.

I reached the point of desperately wanting to do something with my life that would be

meaningful. I had to try something else that would work. I had found NA several years

previous to this decision, but then I was not ready to change. And although I closed the door on

NA on many occasions, I have always been welcomed back.

Since I have become willing to do something about my life with the NA program, life has

been fuller and more meaningful. I could not experience life before on a daily basis without

drugs. I needed these just to face each day. I know I have to alter this pattern of thinking and

living if I am to stay completely clean. This I am doing through the principles of our program.

Although I do not now desire or need drugs, I have to fill the void that’s left with something

worthwhile. I have found this in the Fellowship of NA. I have to stick with the winners and go

in the same direction that they go. As long as I follow the steps of the program, I know I can

make it, too. Although I don’t find the program easy, it is simple enough for a complicated

person like me to follow.


I was different

My story may differ from the others you have heard, in that I was never arrested or

hospitalized. I did, however, reach the point of utter despair which so many of us have

experienced. It is not my track record that shows my addiction but rather my feelings and my

life. Addiction was my way of life—the only way of life I knew for many years.

Thinking back, I must have taken one look at life and decided I didn’t want any part of it. I

came from a “good old-fashioned,” upper-middle-class broken home. I can’t remember a time

when I haven’t been strung out. As a small child, I found out I could ease the pain with food,

and here my drug addiction began.

I became part of the pill mania of the 1950’s. Even at this time I found it hard to take

medication as directed. I figured that two pills would do twice as much good as one. I

remember hoarding pills, stealing from my mother’s prescriptions, having a hard time making

the pills last until the next refill.

I continued to use in this way throughout my early years. When I was in high school and the

drug craze hit, the transition between drug store dope and street dope was a natural. I had

already been using drugs on a daily basis for nearly ten years; these drugs had virtually

stopped working. I was plagued with adolescent feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. The

only answer I had was that, if I took something, I either was, felt, or acted better.

The story of my street using is pretty normal. I used anything and everything available every

day. It didn’t matter what I took so long as I got high. Drugs seemed good to me in those years.

I was a crusader; I was an observer; I was afraid; and I was alone. Sometimes I felt all-powerful

and sometimes I prayed for the comfort of idiocy—if only I didn’t have to think. I remember

feeling different—not quite human—and I couldn’t stand it. I stayed in my natural state: loaded.

In 1966, I think, I got turned on to heroin. After that, like so many of us, nothing else would

do the thing for me. At first I joy-popped occasionally, and then used only on weekends; but a

year later I had a habit, and two years later I flunked out of college and started working where

my connection worked. I used stuff and dealt, and ran for another year-and-a-half before I got

sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I found myself strung out and no longer able to function as a human being. During this last

year of my using, I started looking for help. Nothing worked! Nothing helped!

Somewhere along the line I had gotten the telephone number of a man in NA. Against my

better judgment and without hope, I made what may well be the most important phone call of

my life.

No one came to save me; I wasn’t instantly cured. The man simply said that if I had a drug

problem, I might benefit from the meetings. He gave me the address of a meeting for that night.

It was too far to drive, and besides I was kicking. He also gave me the address of another

meeting a couple of days later and closer to home. I promised him I’d go and have a look. When

the night came, I was deathly afraid of getting busted, and afraid of the dope fiends I would

find there. I knew I wasn’t like the addict you read about in books or newspapers. Despite these

fears I made my first meeting. I was dressed in a three piece black suit, black tie, and eightyfour

hours off a two-and-a-half-year run. I didn’t want you to know what and who I was. I

don’t think I fooled anybody. I was screaming for help, and everybody knew it. I really don’t

remember much of that first meeting, but I must have heard something that brought me back.

The first feeling I do remember on this program was the gnawing fear that because I’d never

been busted or hospitalized for drugs, I might not qualify and might not be accepted.

I used twice during my first two weeks around the program, and finally gave up. I no longer

cared whether or not I qualified. I didn’t care if I was accepted. I didn’t even care what the

people thought of me. I was too tired to care.

I don’t remember exactly when, but shortly after I gave up, I began to get some hope that this

program might work for me. I started to imitate some of the things the winners were doing. I

got caught up in NA. I felt good, it was great to be clean for the first time in years.

After I’d been around for about six months, the novelty of being clean wore off, and I fell off

that rosy cloud I’d been riding. It got hard. Somehow I survived that first dose of reality. I think

the only things I had going for me then were the desire to stay clean, no matter what; faith that

things would work out okay so long as I didn’t use; and people who were willing to help when

I asked for help. Since then, it’s been an uphill fight; I’ve had to work to stay clean. I’ve found it

necessary to go to many meetings, to work with newcomers, to participate in NA, to get

involved. I’ve had to work the Twelve Steps the best I could, and I’ve had to learn to live.

Today my life is much simpler. I have a job I like, I’m comfortable in my marriage, I have real

friends, and I’m active in NA. This type of life seems to suit me fine. I used to spend my time

looking for the magic—those people, places, and things that would make my life ideal. I no

longer have time for magic. I’m too busy learning how to live. It’s a long, slow process.

Sometimes I think I’m going crazy. Sometimes I think, “What’s the use?” Sometimes I back

myself into that corner of self-obsession and think there’s no way out. Sometimes I think I can’t

stand life’s problems anymore, but then this program provides an answer and the bad times

pass.

Most of the time life’s pretty good. And sometimes life is great, greater than I can ever

remember. I learned to like myself and found friendship. I came to know myself a little bit and

found understanding. I found a little faith, and from it, freedom. And I found service and

learned that this provides the fulfillment I need for happiness.


Fearful mother

I thought an addict was a person who was using hard drugs, someone who was on the streets

or in jail. My pattern was different—I got my drugs from a doctor or friends. I knew something

was wrong yet I tried to do right—at work, in my marriage, and in raising my children. I really

tried hard. I would be doing well and then I’d fail. It went on like this and each time it seemed

like forever; it seemed like nothing would ever change. I wanted to be a good mother. I wanted

to be a good wife. I wanted to be involved in society yet never felt a part of it.

I went through years of telling my children “I’m sorry but this time it will be different.” I

went from one doctor to another asking for help. I went for counseling feeling everything will

be all right now, but the inside was still saying, “What is wrong?” I was changing jobs,

changing doctors, changing drugs, trying different books, religions, and hair colors. I moved

from one area to another, changed friends, and moved furniture. I went on vacations and also

remained hidden in my home—so many things through the years—constantly feeling, I’m

wrong, I’m different, I’m a failure.

When I had my first child I liked it when they knocked me out; I liked the feeling of the drugs

they gave me. It was a feeling that whatever is going on around me, I don’t know and I don’t

care, really. Through the years the tranquilizers gave me the feeling that nothing is really that

important. Toward the end, things became so mixed up I was not sure what was and what was

not important. I was shaking inside and out. Drugs would not help.

I was still trying, but very little. I had quit work and was trying to go back but I couldn’t. I

would be on the couch afraid of everything. I was 103 pounds and had sores on my lips and in

my nose. I had diabetes and shook so that I had a hard time putting a spoon to my mouth. I felt

I was out to kill myself and people around me were out to hurt me. Physically and mentally I

had a breakdown. I had just become a grandmother and I could not even communicate with a

small child. I was almost a vegetable. I wanted to be a part of living but did not know how. Part

of me said I’d be better off dead and part of me said there has to be a better way of living.

When I started on the program of NA, there were a lot of people who suggested just

everyday things for me to do, like eating, taking a bath, getting dressed, going for a walk, going

to meetings. They told me, “Don’t be afraid, we have all gone through this.” I went to a lot of

meetings through the years. One thing has stuck with me, one thing they said from the

beginning, “Betty, you can stop running and you can be whatever you want to be and do

whatever you want to do.”

Since being on the program I have listened and watched many people and have seen them go

through many ups and downs. I have used the teachings I felt were best for me. My work area

has had to change and I have been going to school. I have had to relearn all the way back to the

grammar school level. It has been slow for me but very rewarding.

I also decided that I need to know me better before I can have a meaningful relationship with

a man. I am learning to communicate with my daughters. I am trying many things which I

wanted to do for years. I am able to remember many things that I had pushed out of my mind. I

have found that Betty is not that big pile of nothing but is someone and something that I never

really stopped to look at or listen to. April 1 will be my fifth NA birthday. How’s that for April

Fool’s Day!

Fat addict

I am an addict. I used at least fifty different types of drugs on an ongoing basis for a period of

eighteen years. I didn’t know it when I started using, but I used drugs for only one reason—

because I didn’t like the way I felt. I wanted to feel better. I spent eighteen years trying to feel

different. I couldn’t face the everyday realities of life. Being a fat kid, fat all my life, I felt

rejected.

I was born in Arizona in 1935 and I moved to California in the early 1940’s. My family moved

around from state to state and my father was married several times. He was a binge drinker;

either he was in a state of self-righteousness or a state of complete degradation. This is one of

the many reasons we moved so often.

As I moved from school to school, I would relate various experiences that I had and I would

talk about my various stepmothers. For some reason, I was thought to be a liar. It seemed the

only company that accepted me, no matter where I went, was the so-called lower-level people,

and I never felt I was a lower-level person. It made me feel like I had some self-worth by being

able to look down on them.

My family life was confused and painful, but a lot of sound moral values were passed on to

me in my upbringing. I always made the attempt to stay employed. As a matter of fact, on most

occasions I managed to be self-employed in some type of business. I was even able to maintain

some civic status by belonging to fraternal organizations.

I was five feet, five inches tall, and weighed 282 pounds. I ate compulsively to try and handle

my feelings and emotions and to make me feel better. As a matter of fact, this is how I originally

got into using heavy drugs. I wanted to lose weight so desperately that I became willing to use

heroin. I thought I would be smart enough not to get hooked, that I could use and lose my

appetite, feel good and outsmart the game. I bounced around the country and ended up in

penitentiaries and jails. This was the beginning of the end; not only was I a compulsive

overeater and remained fat, but I was also addicted to the drugs I was using.

Somebody told me about the Fellowship of Narcotics Anonymous when I was in the

complete stage of degradation and desperation. Having no place to go, I walked into this

fellowship feeling as low as a person can feel, like there was no way out. I was completely and

totally morally bankrupt. I knew nothing about spiritual values. I knew nothing about living.

Life ultimately was nothing but pain on a daily basis. All I knew was to put something in me—

food or drugs—or to abuse sex to feel good, which just didn’t do it for me anymore. I just

couldn’t get enough of anything.

When I came to this program, I found something that I had never experienced before—total

acceptance for who and what I was. I was invited to keep coming back to a fellowship that told

me there were no fees or dues—that I had already paid my dues via my past life—and that if I

kept coming back, I would find total freedom and a new way of life.

Today, many years later, I find that I am free from addiction and compulsive overeating, and

I have status in the community. I have a nice home and family, an executive position, and most

of all I have a personal relationship with my God, which has made all these things possible. I

am able to feel good, to feel joyful and blissful, to feel serenity, even when things are not as

good as they might be.

There is no question about it, I owe my life to the Narcotics Anonymous Fellowship and God.

I can only extend my hope that if you too are suffering as I once was, you will practice the

principles of Narcotics Anonymous, and find freedom from pain and a meaningful, prosperous

life.


NA White Booklet, Narcotics Anonymous

This is NA Fellowship-approved literature.

Copyright © 1976, 1983, 1986 by

Narcotics Anonymous World Services, Inc.

All rights reserved.


Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions

reprinted for adaptation by permission of AA World Services, Inc.

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State College NA,
Sep 29, 2016, 12:39 PM