Wanting desperately to get out of the misery of my life, I just kept on coming back, again and again. I heard many stories and each one seemed to possess similarities to my story. My path to the tables while arduous and convoluted was nonetheless similar to those of others around the tables. All of these “shares” underscored my own experiences, and I came to “know” what it means to be an alcoholic. I accepted that fact of my life, and my journey to recovery began. Being restored to sanity was something that took a little while for me. To begin with I had to come to terms of being insane – that word described others, not me – or so I thought. Writing about my journey to the tables gave me the opportunity to come to an acceptance of the various terms used to identify a person as an alcoholic. It wasn’t what I drank, or how much I drank, or where I drank – it was what happened to me when I drank – my total lack of control after drinking that was what caused me to begin defining myself as an alcoholic. All I needed to do was continue to show up for the meetings – and the rest continues to pass at it’s own pace…one ALCOHOLIC helping another………
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