About two and a half years ago I went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting for myself for the first time. I had gone to meetings in support of loved ones, but never one where I said, “My name is and I am…” It was a life altering occasion. It didn’t matter that I’d been dry for years prior to saying, “My name is…” What’s ended up happening since that fateful day - June 21, 2015, in case you were wondering - is that I’ve found myself surrounded by people who unquestionably support me any time day or night, any day of the week. Probably one of the greatest things I’ve learned since that day though is how to ask for help.
Don’t get me wrong, I knew the mechanics of asking for help before saying, “My name is,” but I didn’t know how to execute the ask. Now there are a number of people I go to on probably a far too regular basis by their tastes and in the past I wouldn’t have. Now there are people in my world that I can bald-faced say, “I want to deliberately harm myself,” or, “All I want is a bottle of bourbon,” or any number of things along those lines and they don’t tell me to shut up or go away. I end up hearing something along the lines of, “I know exactly what you’re talking about.” They give me a hug and/or a pat on the back.
The ask is something that’s gotten easier. Yes, a big part of that is having a mental health care team that I meet with regularly, but a bigger part is the group of people I’ve met in meetings. When I interact with people I’ve met in meetings I don’t ever feel like I’m speaking a different language to them. Even the ones who don’t necessarily suffer clinical depression know what I’m saying when I talk about going to the grocery store and passing by that end cap of whiskey.
Like any situation one encounters as an adult - well, as a human - there are people I’ve encountered since saying, “My name is,” that I’m not a fan of, but the people who’ve strengthened me far outweigh the other. And I do wish I could go back to the before time when I didn’t have to think about not drinking, or the urge to drink wasn’t so overwhelming it obliterated my ability to see anything else, or I could be trusted to carry a box cutter on my person without loved ones worrying about what I had planned to do with said box cutter. That’s not necessarily a desire to go back to a time when I wanted to drink myself stupid and numb or work in the places/roles I worked in when I was carrying a box cutter on the daily. What it’s a wish for is a wish to be oblivious. I wish everything in my brain was back to being superficial so that I could pretend I was fine.
Many people in my life will be reassured that, largely with help from the folks I’ve met in program, there are starting to be more days in between downward spirals. I haven’t stopped being scared of not spiraling, but as spirals are becoming rarer I’m less scared of finding myself not spiraling. And when I do find myself spiraling I’m better able to articulate it out loud to a human being not just a circuit board or social networking site that I’m spiraling. I wouldn’t have been able to do this before saying, “My name is…” At least not so honestly and feeling so safe.
So I would go back to pre-first day of summer 2015, but I’m a big fan of the nest I’ve found people building around me despite my doing anything I could do to push them away. I could very effectively insulate prior to last summer, and heck, I still can insulate very effectively, but it’s no longer done thinking I’m all alone in my Universe.
So. Thank you folks I’ve met in Meeting. I couldn’t even function today if you weren’t a part of my life. And I’m sorry that you understand where I am and where I’m going. I wish you all the strength that you give me.