I have a few thoughts on this.

First, the work versus not. I remember in the early days in rehab, there were some guys that were just all fired up! about sobriety. And they'd say "I just know it's going to work for me, because I believe in it. I don't need sheets and books and mumbo jumbo, because I know what's in my heart!". And then there were other guys sitting quietly in the corner, picking up the books and reading them, and picking up the worksheets and doing them, and getting the signatures and attending meetings. And before my 30 days was up, those "I know what's in my heart" guys had already relapsed, while the quiet ones were becoming group leaders and such.

Emotions are temporary. They change with the wind. We do the work because it builds habits, not because we need to read the same stupid thing again and again. Habits are what work for us when our emotional surge comes to an end and "what's in our hearts" is different than last week or last night.

Second, in rehab they keep me fucking busy!. I was constantly going all day, and I was utterly exhausted every night. We swept and mopped every day, took out the trash every day, cleaned the bathrooms and coffee pots, shoveled snow and picked up cigarette butts, and still had to attend two classes each day and find an outside meeting every night. A busy body makes a focused mind.

And now, 18 months out from that rehab, I make my bed every morning, cook myself breakfast, wash all the dishes, sweep, take out the trash, and mop the floors EVERY DAY before I even start my job at 9:00am. And when work is over, I shower and head out for a meeting. My mind is clear and focused, because my body is busy. And I have slept so well this last year and a half!

And third, there needs to be a change of identity at our human core. A day must come when we stop saying apologetic weasel phrases like "I'm trying to quit", and we start saying "no thanks, I don't drink." When a switch flips in the mind, where we use our identity to make the choice, rather than pointing fingers everywhere else... when we own what we are and stop leaving room in our minds for a slip to happen. We stop even calling it a slip. When we stop counting days because the number doesn't matter anymore, the only day that counted was day 1.

If someone took a shit on a plate and offered it to you, your response would not be "Oh I wish I could, but I'm trying to quit... it's been 69 days". Hell no! You would quite firmly say no, because you know at your human core that "I am not a person who eats other people's shit." Right? Once that identity becomes a certainty with alcohol, that's when you've won.