I've lived in this little hamlet for 4.5 years now. Before the last two weeks, I had attended one local meeting. I continued to drive to the city (randomly) to meetings here and there. Never consistently. I still consider them both my "home" meetings, meaning, when I get my chip, I go there. My 6-year friend always speaks and hands it to me. I don't see that changing. I will continue to consider them my home groups and continue to go to those meetings when I can.
But the past month, I had been wondering what was preventing me (within myself) from attending local meetings. There isn't one in my own little hamlet, but there are plenty in the next (bigger) town. I don't know if it was thinking "these people are too close to home" or what, but whatever it was is now gone.
I've been going to meetings the past two weeks. Monday, Thursday, Saturday. I haven't gone to this many meetings since I was first sober and even then I was only going Wednesday and Friday mornings.
I've felt this need to put myself out there more, to get more involved in a program that has helped me so tremendously, to give back.
I made a rather large breakfast for the Saturday morning meeting. I cooked. For strangers. And what's more, they ate it!
There's something about people in AA. I don't know if I can describe it. It's a group of complete strangers who are incredibly welcoming, who understand (& may be the only ones who can understand) what I'm going through...what every alcoholic goes through... who are willing to help in any way, who give you their phone numbers in case of an emergency, who don't judge you, who don't (generally) offer advice, who simply just listen and tell their own story and are, quite honestly, just there.
I believe strongly that without my support system of Mom, Dad, Ben, Hope, Theresa, Susie, Tim, Shannon and all of my friends from the church, and all of the friends I've made or reconnected with since, and all of my extended family, and all of the therapists I've had are why I am sober, still, today. I don't have God as my "higher power", but I have all of them and I have every single person in AA, who are, collectively, my higher power. When someone in a meeting says, "By the grace of God, I am sober today", I think the same thing only my "god" is all of you.
I've never sponsored anybody. I don't have a sponsor myself. I had a sponsor for about 2 months very early on and then I let her go. I don't feel the need for a sponsor. Some traditionalists will say that's a sign I will go back to the bottle. Others will say, and rightly so, that my program is my program and nobody else's. That's what I love about AA. It isn't one thing. It isn't one program that you rigidly have to follow or else you'll fall off the wagon. No. It's what works for you.
I don't feel worthy to be a sponsor. I don't feel as if I have enough of my "poop in a group" to sponsor someone else. But I wonder, does any sponsor feel as if they're "enough"? I don't think so. I'm at least open, now, to putting myself out there and giving my number out to new women and helping them as I can.
More than that, though, and in a way I feel I can really be of service, is this: I'm going to start a meeting in my little hamlet.
Yes, I am scared as ever. For a lot of reasons. I'm putting myself out there in a very small community as someone who is a recovering alcoholic...and then I remember, I posted that shit on Facebook in August, so whoop-dee-do. Everybody already knows. I think it's good for people to know. I think it might help that one person who is scared to make that admission, to see that I, Amy, am also an alcoholic. That my life is not perfect. That I have struggles just like they do. That I'm about as unique as everybody else on the planet. But that I work my ass off to stay sober and here's how I do it.
I'm also afraid that no one will show up. But as I've told others, if I'm sitting by myself for an hour one morning a week, that is not a bad thing. Others have done it. Tons of others have done it. Perhaps, if that happens, that hour will be my best hour of the week. I don't think that'll happen. I'm trying not to overanalyze the whole damn thing. I just want to do. So in the next couple of weeks, a new AA meeting will be on the list of meetings in my area and others will become aware of it and maybe....just maybe...it'll help one person. I know it'll help me.
I got emotional at tonight's meeting. I hate getting emotional. I am not a pretty crier. I have difficulty talking while crying. But someone said something that struck my "I'm gonna fucking cry" nerve.
People in meetings talk about all sorts of things. Some people talk about and tell the same damn stories at every goddamn meeting and they can drive others insane. Others talk a lot. Some don't talk at all. I cherish those who share and I feel comfort for those who don't. My philosophy on it is, whatever that person talks about or doesn't, is exactly what he or she needs. Do whatever you have to fucking do to stay sober. That's all this program is. Do whatever it takes. So if telling the same damn story helps you to stay sober, have at it. If simply listening and not speaking is what it takes, fucking do it. If sharing something personal works, share. If talking around the edges of something helps you tonight to stay sober, walk that fine line.
So when this guy spoke tonight and I felt that nerve struck and instead of sitting there, got up to refill coffee so I wouldn't start crying right then and there and interrupt his time, I knew I had to speak and get off my chest what was laying heavily on my heart in that moment. And I unleashed and shared intensely personal parts of myself and yes, of course, I cried. But you know what? The next guy and the next guy and the next woman, all needed to hear it...because they had or were going through and feeling what I had gone through and they needed to know, as I did, that they are not alone. None of us are.
I will forever be grateful to AA, but also to all of you who have supported me, lifted me up when I was way down, talked me through problems that have crept up, and been there to celebrate with me. I owe you a debt of gratitude and I hope I can make you proud by doing what I'm doing.
