Alcoholics Not-So-Anonymous: A Sneak Peek Inside My First AA Meeting-Part One

photo credit

Note: This is part one of a two part series.

The room was packed. It was nothing like I envisioned, in the hundreds of times where I imagined attending an AA meeting in my head for the past year. But I guess that’s how it usually works- when you actually do something that you have been fearful of for so long, the reality is usually completely different.

There were circles of people huddled up, smoking, blocking the entrance of the building. I pulled the sleeves of my hooded sweatshirt over my hands in an effort to disappear in it’s coziness. I followed my non-alcoholic older brother as he led me through the smokers, and into the low ceiling building. Just like as kids, I felt that where ever he led me, was the right way to go. With him by my side, no one could hurt me, and I felt endlessly protected. The ironic part is that now, as adults, he was leading me to get help from continuing to hurt myself. Neither one of us could have predicted that my own self destructive behavior would the the only thing in life that he ended up not being able to protect me from.

I just wanted to be invisible, and instead, I felt like I was in everyone’s way. We walked through narrow pathways between rows of fold-up chairs. It was only wide enough for one person, so you had to constantly step aside to let someone by that was going the other way, in that awkward movie-theater type move where you have to stick your ass apologetically in people’s face as you pass.

Every one of the sixty or so seats were reserved with random place holders, from business cards to a plastic fork for people that were outside smoking. We were fifteen minutes early, and there wasn’t a seat available.

We made our way to the side door of the building that was only about 20 feet from the podium in the center. I didn’t mind standing the whole time. The door way seemed to be a perfect place to watch from afar, without the pressure to participate.

The meeting started with an older man reciting the purpose of AA, like he had said it thousands of times before. He asked for anyone that had an open seat next to them to raise their hands so that they could fill every seat. A guy five feet in front of me raised his hand, and I began to inch forward, considering stepping into the lion’s den that was the rows of people under the low hanging florescent lights. Part of me wanted to get a clearer view. Part of me wanted to turn around and go sprinting into the dark alley that was behind me. I had made it this far, so I figured I might as well sit in the meeting. Another guy standing next to me at the door encouraged me, “Go ahead and take that seat, sweetheart.” Everyone was so fucking nice, and all I wanted was for them all to ignore me.

I squeezed into the second seat from the isle, between two men. I felt like a little scared kid, horribly out of place. I nervously crossed my arms, in an awkward effort to not touch the knees or elbows of the strangers next to me. One of the guys next to me was so fidgety that it made my efforts irrelevant. He fidgeted all evening, checking his phone every minute or so. I wanted to tell him to have a beer and chill the fuck out, and then I remembered where I was.

I looked around the room, and tried to imagine each person really drunk. I looked around and thought about how each of them would have made excellent drinking buddies before they chose to get sober. I knew all these people’s biggest secrets and vulnerabilities by just being in this room with them. But, I suppose that’s the essence of the “Anonymous” part of AA, to gain strength in the gathering with strangers that struggle with the same issues.

The speaker welcomed everyone, and read statements that were recited directly from AA texts. It was so cult like, but I tried to have an open mind since it has worked for so many people, for so long. And obviously my way of doing things had stopped working for me. He noted that this was an “open meeting”, meaning alcoholics, and non-alcoholics were welcome (as opposed to a “closed meeting” where only people that identified themselves as alcoholics were welcome). I had purposely chosen an open meeting so that I could bring my supportive brother for the strength that doubted I had in myself. I felt like my courage was so fleeting, it could chose to leave me at any moment.

The old man that was the speaker noted that even though all were welcome, only people that identified as alcoholics were invited to actively participate. I was bitter at the fact that I was included in every thing that they were doing.
Next, he invited the newcomers to introduce themselves, and the nature of their disease. Anyone with under 30 days of sobriety was asked to stand and say their name and “I’m an alcoholic”. Seeing as this was my first meeting, ever, and I had exactly one day of sobriety under my belt, I was a prime candidate for standing up. Fuck me.

Don’t miss out on Part Two of this series, to be published Wednesday, and subscribe for free updates to Dreamin’the Life

by Email or RSS

Also, follow me on Twitter here –>@DreaminTheLife