I finally got step 2 and 3

Higher Power
Do I believe in god? The major part of me beginning the twelve stop program was deciding if or how I believed in god. I had to come to learn that the point of the twelve steps was a spiritual awakening and promise to myself and God to change the direction of my life. I had to accept that my life had become unmanageable, in my case directionless and hopeless. I had to accept that I was tired of being sick and tired. I had to get angry. At first the change felt confrontational, forced, that I had gotten arrested and needed to pretend I was sorry or something was being taken from me and I needed to prove I was serious or I wanted to get some control back so I needed to explore my option. I didn’t like the word “recovery.” I didn’t like the word “addict.” I felt I just like to party and sometimes it just got out of control. I felt the world was the problem and not me. I felt the world was trying to ruin my buzz and fun like damn can’t I do anything. I really meant damn can’t I just do what the fuck I want. I really meant fuck the rules. I just wanted self-indulgence. I just wanted unlimited pleasure. I just want to be out of control.
I came to AA a broken person. It was after another night of drinking went too far. It was in the hospital after I got drunk and high and ended up slicing my wrists and taking a bottle of pills. I was beginning to understand I had a problem or was out of control that’s why I attempted the suicide. I just wanted to escape and not take responsibility for my decisions. That night I cut my wrists I felt as if I was the worse fuck up and there was no help for me. I felt I was better off dead. I thought I could never get control. I felt as if putting my life back together or in my case putting a life together was impossible. Shit, my life has always been unmanageable. I was born into chaos: a drug dealer father who got himself killed and crack addicted prostitute for a mother. I was born into alcoholism and other addictions, I was born into the rape and molestation, I was born in the physical and emotional abuse that lasted until I ran away at 15 years old and picked up my first drink and just kept running. I thought getting away, that was it, I wasn’t in that city or state anymore, but I was still running. I didn’t think too much about my soul, that was some church shit, but my soul was telling my body it hadn’t healed, that it was starving, so my body started acting out. It kept trying to feel itself with liquor and drugs thinking I was feeding my soul but starving it more. I was feeding what I had originally started running from. I kept trying to numb the pain or memory or resentment or insecurity but indirectly and ignorantly feeding it. I couldn’t understand why what I kept running away from kept showing up and the farther I ran, the stronger it got, the bigger it got, the more out of control it got.

The most important thing I had to learn, with wounds, you can’t run. If I broke my leg, I wouldn’t move to another city hoping that would fix the problem. I would go to the hospital and seek medical help. If I got a finger cut off, I wouldn’t start drinking large amount of liquor hoping it would just grow back. I would have to bandage it, medicate it, go to the hospital, make sure it doesn’t get infected and then my arm would have to be amputated. A unaddressed wound, especially a deep wound, only gets worse. It become vulnerable to infection, opportunistic germs and viruses looking to hurt the already hurt. I used to say, when you’re hurting, it’s funny how you find more people to hurt you. I had to understand a wound to the soul is the same. It didn’t help that I moved across the country or to another country, it was still deep wounds.
The only difference wounds to the soul need spiritual intervention. It’s the unseen that need addressing. A wound to the soul that go unhealed gets infected, and opportunistic germs and virsuses also known as “trouble” show up to hurt the already hurt. It took me a long time to get it. I needed a spiritual intervention. I needed a spiritual awakening. I needed a spiritual healing.
The spirit meant the soul. My soul meant my connection to God.
soul /soʊl/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[sohl] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation,
–noun
1.
the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans, regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body, and commonly held to be separable in existence from the body; the spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physical part.

2.
the spiritual part of humans regarded in its moral aspect, or as believed to survive death and be subject to happiness or misery in a life to come: arguing the immortality of the soul.

3.
the disembodied spirit of a deceased person: He feared the soul of the deceased would haunt him.

4.
the emotional part of human nature; the seat of the feelings or sentiments.

5.
a human being; person.

6.
high-mindedness; noble warmth of feeling, spirit or courage, etc.

I had to ask myself did I have a soul? It was a rhetoric question. I knew I had consiconess, that in which was shelled inside my body, the body that will die, but my soul was that gave my body it’s animation, it’s personality, that part of me only I knew but had to translate via my mouth, touch, actions and connected me this physical existence. When I would get high, it was my soul that was going higher, tripping off the pleasure I gave to my body. I know there have been times my body was sick, and I ached with it, but my soul was still intact. I’ve seen people die, watch them in pain, but their soul didn’t blemish. Of course I’m connected to my body, it’s like a compass for my soul, like god gave me a map so that I wouldn’t directionless. If I touch fire I know it burns. I know if I keep doing it burns worse and the scars. I know not to do it anymore. Pain is my compass and pleasure is my compass, the direction I’m suppose to go. It’s the motivator. So when the drinking only kept bringing me more pain, it was my compass telling maybe I was going to the wrong direction. It was just the same as when I stuck my physical hand in the fire, I immediately redrew, I didn’t keep it there.
So I had decided there was a god and I knew I was in pain, sick and tired of making the same mistakes. I was tired of leaving in pain, humiliation, feeling out of control, wanting to escape my mistakes, wanting pleasure but thinking I left myself to long in the fire that I was all scared up and ugly and worthless.
And then I think of that five year old kid who was drug from his home, gasoline poured on him and set ablaze. His mother said his spirit died that day. She said all he did for a year was cry not just from the phsycial pain but the emotional, the nightmares, that other kids teased him and didn’t want to play with him. That he lost all his friends. I asked myself what kind of God would allow that to happen to a child. And then I prayed for him. In my prayer I knew in my heart he would find love one day. He would learn to love the scars. I knew the physical pain wouldn’t hurt that bad one day. And if I was praying for him, I knew others who read the same story was praying for him, and one day somebody will help him, and one day love will look pass his scars and pain and see his beautiful soul. I knew his soul was beautiful because it was god. I prayed for him until tears were in my eyes because I knew that was god. All I had to do was connect to it. I can’t tell people I have a soul, because they can’t see it or touch it. I can’t prove it to them and even when I look in the mirror, I know when my soul shows up and when I was drinking real bad, how it disappeared. I couldn’t even type these words now a year ago, because my soul wasn’t there, it was still wounded.
And now that I’m healing, finally went to the hospital and got the help I needed to address the deep gashes of my spirit. And when I accepted my Higher Power as I understand him or her, I was finally ready for my spiritual awakening.
I think it’s very important before anybody truly begin the twelve steps, the must first let the miracle happened. It takes time. It takes letting go of the anger. It takes trusting. It takes honesty. If you don’t understand, don’t fake it. The miracle isn’t approval. In fact, it’s the oppostite. I’m glad I didn’t rush the miracle. I’m glad I questioned it. I’m glad I got pissed at it. I’m glad I told god he or she was an asshole. I’m glad I turned my back and ran. It’s because now that I’m home, I know what a real home is.
I needed a change. I needed trust the compass gave me and go a different direction in my life. I was tired of running and living on the hopeless streets, I just wanted to get home.


admitting that one cannot control one's addiction or compulsion;
recognizing a greater power that can give strength;
examining past errors with the help of a sponsor (experienced member);
making amends for these errors;
learning to live a new life with a new code of behavior;
helping others that suffer from the same addictions or compulsions.


These are the original Twelve Steps as suggested by by Alcoholics Anonymous.[5]
1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol—that our lives had become unmanageable.
My worse alcoholic moment was the night I cut my wrists. I had been drinking for five days straight, about seven liters of rum, my life was hopeless, I had been punching holes in the walls, my ex-boyfriend was making plans to just move out, I had been locked out of the landry room because somebody found a drug pipe down there and assumed it was mine, it was, every neighbor in my apartment building hated me because every time the police showed up it was usually for me, and I’ve been making so much noise, cursing out ppl, having around shady people, one of them broke into the apartment downstairs, it was crazy, but to top it all off, that night I went out to the bar, I got into another fight, a shoving match and then on the walk back to my apartment, I ran into some guy, didn’t know him, I somehow ended up sucking his dick in my hallway, so unaware of time, my neighbor was about to take his kid to school and caught me, started cursing up a storm which woke up my ex who came to calm the situation down but that’s after the guy woke everybody up cursing talking about I was putting everyone’s safety in danger, that he had wife and kids and didn’t want them seeing that, so it all started crashing down on me, I went to the bathroom, got the boxcutter, first swallowed the pills, then cut my wrists and passed out on the bathroom floor. My roommate found me a hour later, called the ambulance, and I spent a week in the mental ward.
2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
I believe there’s a god. I don’t really consider myself insane. I think I’ve had problems. But I do believe God has given me the compass to go the right direction to get home. Whatever home is.
3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
God as I understand him or her, I really do think my God is a woman, it would make the most sense to me. I think step 3 is really about trust, that I have to trust there are no mistakes with my life. I have to trust my inner compass and intuition.