Grant Me Serenity
Ever since Ammon filed for divorce I have been low. Very very low. I am so overwhelmed by all of the stress and emotional trauma of the last few weeks. I have no idea how to deal with all of this, how to make the right decisions for myself and my daughters, how to just make it through each day. I feel lost. I feel powerless. So I’ve started going to AA meetings again.
It has been about five years since my last AA meeting, six or seven years since I’ve gone to meetings regularly. I basically used church to replace the need for support, and that worked well for awhile. The meetings I went to before were all full of young people, most very new in the program. It seemed like a pick-up scene, people showing up just to be seen and to meet up with friends or flirt with each other. I wasn’t getting very much out of the meetings that I went to, so it wasn’t hard to stop going. I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much. But when my marriage started to rapidly fall apart I looked up and realized how utterly alone I was. No church, no network of supportive friends, just a few wonderful people smattered here and there who reached out in the ways they could. They have been helpful, absolutely priceless people to have in my life, but I needed something more. I needed to feel safe somewhere. I wanted to feel like there was somewhere I could go where I would belong and be accepted unconditionally. So I looked up the meeting schedule online, found one nearby, and showed up.
It. Was. Amazing.
The meetings I have found in the town where I live now are so different from the meetings I went to before. The people come from everywhere and the rooms are filled with a bizarre mishmash of folks who, under normal circumstances, would never have crossed paths. The focus isn’t on the social scene of AA, but on recovery. On solutions. And the openness and honesty that is spoken in those rooms splits my heart wide open. The moment I walked through the doors of that first meeting, I felt like I belonged there. Like I was wanted there. Good lord, what an amazing feeling, to feel wanted. And not only wanted, but admired- I’m coming back to meetings with a good chunk of sobriety under my belt. This month it was eight years. And these people who I’ve never met before are proud of me for that. The support I have received has been immeasurable, pouring in from all sides from people who tell me, “You’ll be ok. You’ll get through this. I’ve been there.” And I believe them, because I hear their stories of heartbreak and failure and desolation, and of how they made it through to the other side.
I even got a sponsor- a beautiful woman with an unbelievable story of recovery. I’m meeting with her for the first time this morning, and I am so eager for her to lead me through the twelve steps. I’m so incredibly relieved to be around people who understand me, who don’t judge me, and who are a source of endless support and encouragement. And I have to tell you- all you non-alcoholics out there? I feel really sad that you don’t have this in your life. Everyone should have the amazing gift of being able to walk into a room full of strangers any day, any time, anywhere in the world and feel unconditionally accepted. I feel so very lucky.
I am so proud of you for taking care of yourself. And congratulations on 8 years!
Comment by Nicole — April 25, 2007 @ April 25, 2007 at 8:56 am
Good for you. Here’s to hoping the rest of your week is a little brighter (I’m toasting you with my Dr pepper) Salut…
Comment by Kristi — April 25, 2007 @ April 25, 2007 at 10:51 am
That (what you described) is what I wish churches were like - all of them - and it’s kind of why I thought your character in your story was crying that day you asked us. It seemed she wished to feel what you described yourself feeling here.
I just started Blue Shoe (Lamott) today - have you read it?
Comment by Misha — April 25, 2007 @ April 25, 2007 at 3:14 pm
Bravo! Isn’t it true though? I have never gone to AA meetings, but I have been a part of other 12 step groups. You are so very lucky to have one meeting near by with such wonderful people.
See, reaching out. Its a good thing
xoxo
Comment by Georgia — April 25, 2007 @ April 25, 2007 at 4:07 pm
Oh Honey. I had no idea. I’ve been away far too long. I know the devistation of divorce. I know that you said that he has since stopped the divorce. I’m so proud of you catching yourself before you fall. ALL you have to do everyday is breath, in and out, and love your children but mostly breath. If there is anything I can do, just drop me a line.
Comment by Aunt Murry — April 25, 2007 @ April 25, 2007 at 4:11 pm
So glad you feel like you’ve found some support, and you’re right, support is so necessary for our survival, isn’t it? Hope your days continue to get brighter…
Comment by Kelly — April 26, 2007 @ April 26, 2007 at 9:43 am
I’m sad for us too.
I meant to ask you if I could read your story but then the thing with ammon happened and I forgot until now. May I read it?
Comment by carrien — April 26, 2007 @ April 26, 2007 at 1:15 pm
Hey i’m sorry to hear about your divorce Karli. I new something was wrong at Easter… I hope your doing okay. Congrats on your eight years by the way! You’ve definatly come along way. You can always email me if you ever want to talk. Love you.
Comment by Kelsey — April 29, 2007 @ April 29, 2007 at 8:20 pm