Try a New Way

Adding more options to my recovery world

Photo by Roel Dierckens on Unsplash

I went to my first AA meeting with Anna*, a fellow server at the busy restaurant where I worked. I was twenty-two. We made a solemn pact to go late one night, both secret telling drunk, when we stumbled upon our shared fear that we both thought we were already alcoholics**.

When Anna and I first met it didn’t take us long to recognize each other the way serious drinkers recognize other serious drinkers. The unspoken cues that bond people who drink alike- always saying yes to one more, drinking every drop of every drink, never saying things like “I’d better not, I have to drive” or letting a drink get watery while the ice melts. We would spring into action at last call, Anna ordering each of us two drinks as insurance, me making the mad dash to the Quik Stop for extra cigarettes and a case of beer for the after 2 am party.

Drinking wasn’t just fun or letting off steam after long doubles at work, it felt like a calling. A mission. Most of our co-workers had a drink or two at the bar, then left. Some stayed until last call then went home. A handful of us didn’t stop. We drank like it was our second job. Anna and I unwittingly reflected back to one another what we looked like, we saw ourselves in each other. After a while it scared both of us.

It was a relief to admit to another person what I was really afraid of- that I was out of control, that drinking was bigger than me. For another person to confirm they also didn’t understand how to have a drink or two and go home, or how to stop at last call. It felt good to have someone understand my fears because they felt afraid that way too.

We went to the meeting, my only memory of it is a mental snapshot of Anna and I waiting in a line on a staircase for the meeting room to open. I can picture the look we gave each other, the first time jitters clear on both of our faces I’m sure. We never went back.

I joined a women’s twelve step group six months in to my sobriety. I went to my second AA meeting around that time with the woman who introduced me to the recovery group. I didn’t go to another AA meeting, but I did keep attending the weekly recovery group meetings, until things went sideways with two of the members and it polluted the whole group. The therapist who led the group let it go on too long and we could not recover. I quit, but didn’t ghost- I let them know I was leaving.

That was eleven years ago. In that time I have often felt the itch and ache of the phantom limb of group recovery. I haven’t tried again, except for going to one of the Small Bow meetings some time ago. I felt welcome and enjoyed it, left the meetings on my calendar, but somehow never managed to go again. My therapist has encouraged me to go to AA meetings, to do the steps, try it out. But I haven’t.

Until today. This afternoon I am going to an AA meeting. I have been sober in this alone reading things online kind of way for long enough. Writing a blog helped me get sober, doing it my way has worked so far. Now I need to get out of the echo chamber and into the world. My navel is dead tired of my gaze. I want to hear other words, say other words, feel them in my ears and in my mouth, not just read them on a screen. I want to look people in the eye, speak and listen, see and be seen. Get called on my bullshit. Connect with other people in recovery in person.

I want something different now.

That is allowed. :)

p.s. It seems like after the meeting would be the time to write about it, except I know myself well enough to know- if write about going, I will have to go- because I don’t want to write and say I didn’t.

*Not her real name

**I use the word alcoholic in this telling because it’s the word used at the time. I acknowledge AUD as the preferred language today.