A tear clandestinely rolled down my cheek as I sat in an AA meeting tonight. So many people reached out to me, hugging me, and shaking my hand. "Keep coming back!" and "It works if you work it!" rang out in the meeting hall at the meeting's close. I needed others tonight and needed to be around other people of a like mind.
"What's is this about you thinking you are going to be a homeless alcoholic?" Phillip asked me as we sat smoking on the back porch.
"I just think that is my lot in life," I replied.
Phillip scoffed loudly. "You have a choice."
"I just don't think I can go the rest of my life without drinking," I told him. "The only time I feel okay is after a few beers."
"You just don't have to drink today," he replied. "One day only. You can handle that."
"I guess so," I replied, rubbing my chin in deep thought.
"One day at a time," he said reminding me as I got up to walk home.
That is all I could think of on the short walk back to my house. One day at a time. It seems so simple, but is much harder to put in practice if you have been a lifelong alcoholic such as myself.
What am I going to do? Meetings, and then more meetings. I am going to pick myself up and keep trudging forward. As Churchhill said once, "If you're going through hell, then keep going!" That is what I intend to do.
Tonight, my mother is coming to spend time with me after her Monday night social group. I so look forward to sitting with her and talking about our days. Unlike my father, I can be honest with my mother and tell her exactly what transpired today without judgement. When my father comes tonight, I will have to act like everything is just hunky dory and swell. I love him and wish I could talk to him in a more candid manner. Such is life, as they say. I should just be glad I have one parent I can talk to. Many don't have any.