Paul is like the world’s grandfather, a kind, soft-spoken professional suit-wearing guy I’ve seen often at the downtown YMCA for nearly two decades. I always loved running into Paul as he had a smile and kind word for me every time when he saw me.
Then, back in 2010, I picked up my second DUI and got fired from Channel 2, a story that the station and several other Nashville news outlets reported.
Several months later, I ran into Paul at the same Y, when I was wearing a YMCA uniform, having landed a job in membership. He sat down next to me, and in his kind way, he asked me how I was doing.
Awwwww, isn’t that sweet? I thought. Here’s nice-guy Paul, aware of my crash and burn, checking in on me. I then was still raw and smarting from what I perceived to be my HUGE public fall from grace. But hey, since nice guy Paul is asking….
So I spoke in vague terms of going to rehab and emerging with a new attitude and new way of living. I prattled on for about three minutes about my rebirth when Paul held up his hand to interrupt me.
“I’m sorry, Brad, you seem to have undergone some significant live event – but I have no idea what that might be.”
My face flushed red.
WHAT?? My semi-famous self gets fired from my semi-famous job, I get two DUIs – and someone didn’t know about this?? It didn’t even occur to me that someone I knew would’ve have learned about all this drama.
And then I was embarrassed as I quickly realized that – even in early recovery – I still had a huge ego.
I quickly explained what had happened, and Paul, in a few words, sincerely wished me the best, and left to go about his day and his life.
And that may be the first time I realized – I’m just not that big a damn deal. Lots of people go through lots of huge life-changing events every day – whether it’s quitting drinking, losing a loved one, going bankrupt, switching religions, getting divorced — and I’m just one of ‘em.
And yet we alcoholics and addicts tend to be perhaps just a bit more self-centered than most. So when we’re in rehab or treatment of some kind, a huge question that looms for us – How am I going to tell my friends I quit drinking and I’m in recovery?
I visit my old treatment center often, and that is a question we alumni are asked over and over by patients – How should I tell my friends? Should I write to them? Email them? Visit or call? Should I get everyone together for a gathering? That way, I can answer all the questions at once and be done with it, right?
The answer, from our experience, is: No one really cares that much.
“We think the world revolves around us,” says Cynthia M., who has 19 months sober. “They don’t care.
Brad E., who has nearly two years clean, says he was surprised at the mild reactions when he told friends he was in recovery.
“I thought me changing the way I lived would affect EVERYONE around me,” Brad said.
“They were happy to see me better, but it wasn’t big deal to them. In my mind, I thought they would have parades and banners for me. Maybe not literally but that’s what was in my mind.”
When it didn’t go down that way, Brad said, “that was a little sting to the ego.”
Recovering alcoholics Kirk J. and Diane said, essentially, close friends already knew they had a drinking problem. And not-so-close friends were happy to hear Kirk and Diane were in recovery – but they didn’t care that much.
Although, Di adds, “friends made sure I had sparkling cider at parties.”
OK, OK, we get it: We’re a much bigger deal in our minds that we are.
But what about super-embarrassing things like having to have a Breathalyzer in our car after we get DUIs?
“I started parking in the far reaches of the parking lot,” Cynthia said, until she realized that no one was watching her blow into the thing when she started her car.
In fact, she said, “nobody’s looking into my car at all. Nobody cares.”
So, alcoholics and addicts new to recovery, what do you tell folks? Try nothing at all, because they probably don’t care that much.
It’s a lesson I and many of my recovery brethren learned one red-faced encounter at a time.
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