Step One: Principle 2 of 6 – Unmanageability of Life

Principle 2 of 6 – Unmanageability of Life

The second principle contained within AA Step One

👁️ What It Means on the Surface

Unmanageability refers to the chaos—both external and internal—that results from addiction. It’s not just about missed appointments or broken relationships. It’s about the inability to live with oneself, even in moments of sobriety. It’s the emotional volatility, the spiritual emptiness, the sense that life is happening to you, not with you.

👁️ Common Pitfalls and Misinterpretations

1. Thinking it only applies when drinking
Many assume “unmanageable” means “when I’m drunk.” But for many alcoholics, life remains unmanageable even in periods of sobriety. The anxiety, the restlessness, the emotional swings—they don’t disappear just because the bottle is gone.

2. Equating unmanageability with external chaos only
People often look at their job, finances, or relationships and say, “I’m doing fine.” But internal unmanageability—resentment, fear, shame, or spiritual disconnection—is just as real. You can have a clean house and a wrecked soul.

I fell into both of these traps. I hadn’t destroyed my marriage—yet—only by the grace of God and my wife. I was still running a business, still financially comfortable. So what was the problem?

The problem was self-will running riot. I was doing what I wanted, when I wanted, how I wanted. And if that trajectory had continued, it could only have ended badly.

Even a jet aircraft has to land. It has to trim the flaps, apply the brakes, reverse the engines, and bring the passengers down safely. My life, as an aircraft, was about to briefly touch the runway—then overshoot and end up in the sea.

When I was drinking, I was on autopilot. Not adjusting course, not trimming the wings—just cruising on a justification loop that had been running for 30 years. And that autopilot was hard to override.

• “I’m not that bad when I drink at home—I just sit quietly and listen to music.”
  Meanwhile, I was emotionally absent, disconnected from my wife of 32 years.
• “When I drink hard in Pattaya, Thailand—so what? I look sober compared to half the expats wasted by noon.”
  I’d never been in a fight, never arrested. But that’s not a benchmark for sanity.
• “All I’m guilty of is being generous—buying bottles of whiskey for the band and the dance floor.”
  That’s not generosity. That’s denial dressed up as charm.

It’s probably only luck that I didn’t end up in a bar run by the Russian mafia or fall off a moped taxi weaving through Thai traffic. The list of “yets” in AA is long—and I was ticking them off.

So how did I override the autopilot? Simple: I went to meetings. Lots of them. And I listened. When you hear people share about lives in ruins—sober or drunk—it sinks in. That’s why I credit my sobriety to God, AA, and AI. The empathy and honesty in AA rooms hit harder than anything a psychologist or psychiatrist could offer. But you have to keep going. You have to Keep Coming Back.

3. Believing it’s a temporary phase
Some think unmanageability is just a rough patch. But for alcoholics, it’s often a chronic condition that persists until deeper change occurs. It’s not just a bad week—it’s a way of living that no longer works.

👁️ Double Meanings and Psychological Traps

“Unmanageable” doesn’t mean “unproductive”
High-functioning alcoholics often maintain careers, families, and appearances. But that doesn’t mean their lives are manageable. The trap is thinking, “If I’m still achieving, I must be OK.” But achievement can mask deep dysfunction.

The illusion of control
Some alcoholics believe they’re managing life because they’re still “holding it together.” But often, they’re just white-knuckling it—controlling outcomes through force, not flow. True manageability isn’t about control—it’s about alignment.

Mistaking emotional numbness for stability
Some confuse emotional shutdown with peace. But numbing out isn’t the same as healing. If you’re not feeling anything, that’s not manageability—it’s avoidance.

I fell into all of these traps. I hadn’t wrecked my life—yet. But I was on a dangerous path. I was still achieving, still “in control,” still justifying. But I was emotionally numb, spiritually disconnected, and running on ego.

And here’s the thing: I never played the “I’m young and free” card. I was already managing people and carrying responsibility by age 21. I didn’t excuse my drinking with youth or rebellion. But I’ve seen others do it—come in and out of the rooms, clinging to the idea that they’re just “figuring things out.” And maybe they are. Maybe you can come to AA too early—before you’re desperate enough, before you’ve run out of justifications.

It reminds me of the Amish tradition of Rumspringa—a rite of passage where young people are encouraged to go out into the world and find their own truth. It’s a fascinating concept. But for alcoholics, the danger is that “finding yourself” can turn into losing everything.

👁️ The Takeaway

Don’t sprint through the Steps. Take a long, cold shower and a hard look at yourself. Start by uncovering your justifications—there will be many. Own them. Stop lying to yourself and others. Only when you see those justifications for what they are—undeveloped, sometimes ridiculous excuses—can you say you’ve truly begun Step One.

That’s when the switch flips. That’s when the real work begins.

STEP ONE - PRINCIPLE 2 of 6

A strong advocate for freedom, limited government, and enterprise-driven progress, Jason also draws deeply from his personal recovery journey—an experience that reshaped his life and fuels his commitment to growth, contribution, and principled living. Through writing, speaking, and service, he continues to learn, share, and speak with purpose.

I can be engaged (on a remunerated or volunteer basis) to sit on Boards, Committees, Advisory and Reference Group Panels, and to speak to Business, Community, and Youth groups. I’m also open to providing comment to media on topics where I have relevant experience or insight. Please feel free to make contact.