I went to two 12-step meetings today – one in the morning and one tonight. I didn’t even realize it until halfway through the meeting tonight that this was my second meeting. It felt good to be in the middle of many people who’ve known me through the years and tears. It felt good to bookend my day with reminders of my disease.
It felt good to feel new again. Sometimes I need to feel new again. And I was with my BF who has been by my side since we were both in our first year of sobriety.
Meetings are funny – I’ve hated them, loved them, been neutral. I’ve been the show pony and the girl in the back row no one knows. I’ve (almost) always gone to meetings consistently. They are an important part of my sobriety, but they are only part of the whole picture.
A lot of sobriety is behind closed doors. The day in, day out trying to practice living a principled life in all of my affairs is much more about about humility than what I show on the outside.
I love it when the topic of a meeting is humility because I love to brag about how awesome I am at being humble. I mean, I could go pro.
Yes, it’s a joke, but it’s also the truth. I’m very good at looking humble, taking compliments, pretending not to be the arrogant woman I really am. Not taking credit while taking credit.
I have an ego issue. Thankfully, I’m pretty good at the honesty part now, though. At least I can finally see it.
Cash register honesty is easy and showy, but self-honesty – for me – has taken many years of peeling back the layers of lies I’ve told myself time and time again.
Tonight was a retrospective of sorts. I went to that meeting every Friday night for 10 years. I was the cookie girl for 4 years, the setup girl for 3. I got sober in that room. Everywhere I looked, there was history.
It was a big ego stroke at first. People coming up to me, loving my super blonde hair, telling me I looked good. People who read my blog (hi guys!), people who know what hell I’ve been through in the past 2 + years.
But then a shift happened. I took my seat next to a friendly looking man who I didn’t know and who didn’t know me. I introduced myself and asked him how he was doing.
He had 5 days clean and sober.
He told me about his relapse. Why staying sober is so hard. He had 55 days and drank again. He felt defeated. He was scared he may never get sober.
Then he asked me how long I’d been sober.
I didn’t want to answer. It doesn’t matter. I have today and that’s it. I have the same amount of time he does – today.
I quietly told him, then the meeting started. We talked a few more times at break and after the meeting. I hope he stays sober. Tonight, I’m praying for him before I fall asleep.
Because as cool as it was to see all my old friends and be shiny and special for a bit, the best part of the meeting was talking to that newcomer.
But if I told you how humble I feel right now, it would defeat the purpose of humility, wouldn’t it?