I am going to have to go look for meetings. It has been years, since I have been in a room. Now, I begin the long, en-nerving journey to save myself, while trying to help my twenty-year-old daughter. I am steeped in education and experience of the many faces of addiction. Her father, her brothers,my other "ex", Al-Anon, AA, NA, in-patient, out-patient, my father, my brothers, my sisters -all the years of watching recovery unfold. My friends have lost children. I have lost friends.
I am not in the mood for meetings. I do not want to make friends, these days. I do not want to tell any stories. As a matter of fact, I do not want to talk about it. There has been a lot of un-related loss and pain, in the last few years, and I have been enjoying a place, where I do not have to see a lot of people or deal with the drama of others. Too bad, Chica! You got to get yourself into some light, and into some sanity, just for today.
I know how this is. I've been in and out of it all for my entire adult life. I sympathize with your ambivalence. However, it's not always friends that are the fruit of our Recovery labors. The grous are there for helping us, and helping us help others get over the "humps", emerge from the depth of the most onerous danger zones, the deepest valleys, our personal tsunamis, all nature of cataclysmic interruptions to the "good life". Friends are not a guarantee. All the programs offer are opportunities to get a grip, a more or deeper objectivity about ourselves.
The way I feel is that they are way stations where we are supported and encouraged to look at ourselves until the next wave of creativity, friendship, love or even the promised relationship with a Higher Power comes along. The anonymity insures us that we cab anonymously move in, out, and between these scenes as we wish. No shame. No blame. They're not the balm of Gilead, in my experience. They're nothing to write home about. Neither are they home. They're simply bridges from one phase of life to the next, extension chords 'til we're back on our feet and on our game. Like breathing in and breathing out, the programs are the place where the breath is held, sometimes under duress, sometimes with grace. It all passes. Thank God!
The wonderful thing is you have two choices.
One - get up and go to a meeting. It is and always will be the path to recovery.
Two - don't. You never know what will happen then but it will sure make for an interesting (if not devastating) story.
The cure has always been in reaching out to others. Make it a meeting of one but make it. If you need to talk I am available.
Wow, thanks, Bill! It is wild to get room stuff from Dallas. Blessed day to you!
Heyoh, Bill! Since you mentioned being there, if I need to talk, I will tell you that I had the most painful Mothers' Day a person should have. My eldest son is behaving as though I do not exist. We have always been quite close, and he, for reasons we are fairly certain are irrational, has disowned myself and his brother, and one of his two sisters. To make it truly difficult, he came to see his stepmother, and she lives next door to me. The details are immaterial , since he has been going off, for a year or two. Just not to this extent. Today, I am trying to pull myself out of the graveyard. I have had a hard, dramatic life. We all went through it together, as friends and family, and I feel like something is destroying the one harvest I was able to bring forth. The kids were all doing great, six months ago. C'est la vie! --Franny <>/p>