So I finally attended my first ALL women’s AA meeting…. And….
Let it out.
As much as I would love to say Girl Power and proclaim that it was amazing and that the companionship between women was something unheralded, I’m not going to. I’m not going to because, how do I put this nicely, it was fucking awful. You would think that since I like women I would dig it and feel more comfortable. More “at home” even. Nope. Not the case. I have decided I cannot be around that much estrogen ever. EVER AGAIN. Especially when talking about problems and feelings. No disrespect to the women in that meeting who are fighting their own battles with alcohol. Their struggles are real and feelings are valid. I just personally don’t like sitting around with a bunch of women talking about problems. I’ve always been more comfortable around men (oddly enough) so I’ll stick to the gay boy meetings where I hear about blackouts and bitch slap fights. More my style.
Although that all women’s meeting was a fail (to some extent) my dad came into town this past weekend with his wife and they stayed at my place which made for a nice little weekend. As mentioned before, my dad is 14 years sober and so it’s really easy to not drink around him. His wife is not sober, however, she is the type that can have only ONE drink and NOT have that craving or desire to have another one. ONE drink? What does that even mean? I don’t get it.
They came into town Friday night and my dad and I attended a meeting together. We went to a Gay and Lesbian friendly meeting and again, I was the only girl there. My dad was the only straight person there. I, for whatever reason, thought he would be a little uncomfortable and that he would assume that all of the men would hit on him (since he likes to think that everyone is attracted to him and his natural charm) but he wasn’t uncomfortable at all. On a side note: he loves to wear Prada shoes and shop and get manicures and pedicures so I feel like he can identify with gay men. He does have a wife and he did tell me that he thought he was a lesbian because he, too, likes women. Which he thought was sooooooooo funny.
Anyways, the meeting I attended with my Dad was a speaker meeting and the speaker talked about his own personal experiences and struggles with alcohol and then opened the room up for discussion regarding the first step: we admitted we were powerless over our addiction – that our lives had become unmanageable. I always find it so fascinating listening to other peoples stories. To hear their personal struggles with alcohol and how they have overcome them is really inspiring to me. I also love that in AA you can bare your heart and soul with a bunch of complete strangers who will not judge you because they have been there done that and then some. It’s like free therapy with cookies and coffee.
Back to the First Step, I have no problem admitting that once I drink I am powerless over alcohol. Once I have a drink I want and crave more, however, I have had a slight problem with the word addiction and describing myself as an addict. I do not think I am addicted to alcohol. I do not think if I go days without it I will go through withdrawals, I do not need it to function and I do not drink everyday. I do not think I am I addicted to alcohol. I think I have a problem. Yes. I think I abuse alcohol. Yes. But addicted? Not so much. And then I read the definition of addiction. Addiction is the continued repetition of a behavior despite adverse consequences. Fuck. Fine Wikipedia I guess according to you, some could say I was addicted. Dick.
So many people think that being addicted means you end up on Intervention (that amazing show I binge watch) where the alcoholics end up drinking mouth wash or hand sanitizer because of the alcohol in it. Or the alcoholics on it who drink all day, everyday, and go through withdrawals if they don’t drink. Yes, that is a form of alcoholism and addiction but alcoholism has so many more faces than just the ones that are seen on Intervention. Just go to an AA meeting and you will see. Alcoholics come in all shapes and sizes.
Since coming out (not out of the closet) and saying that I am getting sober I have had friends question why? Why stop drinking? Proclamations from many like “but you’re not an angry drunk” or “you can stop I’ve seen you,” among others, have been made.
Yes, you have seen me stop but it wasn’t without a long internal dialogue in which I had to consciously
battle talk myself into stopping and not having another. Yes, you have seen me stop but it wasn’t without wanting another.
When I drink it just brings out another side of me. A side that may be fun to others — because I get crazy and careless and end up in Mexico or at a strip club or waking up in my car with a Cherry Limeade Tea from 711 (who the fuck even drinks that?) — but it is just not congruent to the lifestyle in which I want to live and the future I want to have. If I continue drinking I will likely end up a drunk homeless person panhandling for change. Ok. So I might not end up like that but I will continue to hurt the people I love and live carelessly without regard for anyone but myself. And frankly my dear, that’s just not what I want.
One day at a (motherfucking) time.