Speaking
Yesterday J. called me up late in the afternoon. Though I haven’t been answering every time he calls (in an attempt to discourage him from calling every day, among other reasons) I decided to answer this time. After expressing his shock that I dragged myself off the computer and onto the phone, he said that the speaker he had arranged for his evening meeting had cancelled at the last minute. Her mom was ill. And would I like to speak?
The immediate answer to this question is ‘no’. Not only have I never spoken at an AA meeting, but I rarely ever raise my hand to share. I’m not a fan of public speaking without note-cards in front of me. But, M. has suggested that whenever anyone asks me to speak, I should agree. It will help me to maintain my sobriety, and who knows - it could just help someone else. I told myself I’m doing it right this time, which means taking suggestions from people I respect and who have more sobriety than I do. M. fits the bill, as does J. So, without talking myself out of it, I agreed.
20 minutes, alone in front of a room of Alcoholics. Telling my story, such as it is. I stuffed down the immediate wave of anxiety and attempted to push it out of my head. After all, I had a good 24 hours before I had to be up there. Sometimes I’m good at saving my worrying for the last minute. I thought about writing something out ahead of time, but figured I’d be even more tongue-tied if I got off track from my outline when I was up there.
This morning I emailed Mel to lament my fate. What would I say, I asked. What do I know - I’ve only got 6 months. My Melly, she is a wise, wise woman. She suggested I talk about my concerns that I don’t have anything to say… and how I feel that I have only 6 months, when that is something I did not believe I would ever have. How 6 months on the calendar can feel like two years. She reminded me of the changes I have gone through in this 6 months - of growing a spine, of new career goals and taking steps to meet those goals, of the changing relationship with Tom - and how these might have been different if I had not gotten sober.
It was enough to get me started, and to calm my nerves somewhat. M. helped me as well when I saw him at my Wednesday afternoon coffee shop. He suggested I speak as though everyone were a newcomer who was trying to decide whether or not to stay in the program. Unless my warstories were particularly amusing (they aren’t), I should focus on the process of getting sober, and the benefits I have found in sobriety. He said he would stay for the meeting because he wanted to hear my story. I’ll admit, I was pleased to have at least two friendly faces in the crowd.
It was not easy getting up in front of the group. I spoke about how nervous I was, about how I was unsure I had anything worth sharing. I spoke about Mel’s suggestions. I talked a bit about starting to drink in my senior year of high school, but not drinking much. About continuing through college. About the daily drinking that began when I moved to San Francisco, and how more and more often I would get drunk. I spoke about how my social anxiety disappeared when I was drinking. I felt more a part of things, like I could relax and join the group. I felt more myself, for a while. I talked about my first wake-up call: the 6 martini dinner with a friend from New College, and the resulting fight with Tom. My first true black-out, and how afraid I was of what had happened. How I hoped that who I was when I was drunk was not me. I talked about considering AA, but doubting that I was really an alcoholic. I had my job, my boyfriend, my life. My drinking wasn’t that much of a problem, everyone did what I did. I talked about coming to AA the first time and hovering on the fringes. Not committed to what I was doing, I ‘thought I could find an easier, softer way’. With four months sober, I decided that since I quit for that long, I wasn’t an alcoholic. I went out.
Almost immediatly my drinking went back to what it had been. Two or three drinks nightly, much more on the weekends. The fight with Tom after Decompression, and making a huge fool of myself in front of his brother and Oz. I began to realize, I could not control my drinking. And what scared me more, I could not control myself when I was drunk. More and more I thought ‘two drinks is good, three will be better… four will keep me here… what the hell, how ’bout another…’ until I was gone. I wasn’t losing ‘things’, but I was losing myself. My writing had trailed off until it was nearly non-existant.
I decided to go back to AA at the beginning of the year. I talked about the fear that’s come with it. How hard it is to be a part of the group, but how necessary I find it. I talked about getting a sponsor. About the good things that have come so far. And the hope I’ve found.
Now I’m not sure exactly what I said… but several people said I spoke well. That I ‘put some sanity in an insane day’. That I ‘reminded them of what it was like at the beginning of the downward spiral.’ Even M. spoke about his own hatred of public speaking, and the changes that have come with AA. He said, “Everything I’ve learned about interacting with people, I’ve learned in AA.” I can only hope that the same happens for me.
Something strange happened when I sat down and listened to people’s shares. For the first time, I really felt a part of the group. Like people saw me, knew a bit of me… and that I belonged. I could feel myself opening up to these people I really didn’t know. Maybe it was my Higher Power, maybe it was an adrenaline let-down, but whatever it was, I think it has changed how I experience AA. For the better.
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