20/02/19

There to pick you up when times are bad.

So today marked a moment in time, a moment whereby I actively engaged in position 3 but only for a short period of time. For anyone who has ever been on a spinning bike it is tiring being in position 3, legs outstretched, resistance high, making sure that you try and sprint in time with the music. And that is exactly what I did today for an hour in a church hall in Clifton. The title of the blog is meant to be ironic considering I worked for a Breakdown company and it was the nasty manner in which I left that probably caused me to have a little bit of a breakdown. I went to a meeting for an hour today and this particular meeting is also the name of a breakdown company but more specifically refers to a Anonymous Organisation…(if anyone ever reads this outside the UK then this just won’t translate.) Yes I have finally joined the ranks of Anonymous. Literally imagine turning up to this meeting and seeing this all around you…

No not that sort of anonymous….to be fair to everyone involved attendees commit to leave what and who they see at the meeting at the meeting which is fair enough. I am not sure that this blog getting in to the hands of future employers would do me many favours. But the reality is that I have sat reflecting for a number of hours this afternoon and it was a very good but bizarre experience and here’s why:

The friendliness of people: honestly, I am not a massively outgoing type (those that know me would disagree) but every time I have ever answered the Myers Briggs personality questionnaire the question “when you arrive on your own at a party” always brings me out in a cold sweat. But before I had even slipped through the door with my stage prop coffee and 3 minutes to spare someone had introduced themselves to me and welcomed me in.

No judgement: I guess goes the saying that in the land of the blind the one eyed man is king and I suppose I was feeling blind when I walked in not knowing what to expect. But everyone in there and believe me it was diverse was just normal, no aires and graces. There is pretty much only 2 people in the world who don’t judge me, the most amazing woman who I am marrying and little legs who just hasn’t figured out how to judge me yet, so it was nice not to feel like a complete weirdo in a group of people who didn’t know me!

Diversity: obviously when you go to AA in Clifton there is a much better class of drunk, but it is clear that the afflicted aren’t just old blokes, I mean there were a load of them, but at the meeting were people my age, a mix of sexes but with one united theme of kicking the booze…within minutes I had been invited to the whatsapp group by James…! Seriously! I’m clinging on to my millennial status and whatsapp with old people isn’t cool! But it just goes to show it takes all sorts.

I’m am not the worst drunk: genuinely I felt for some people, clearly alcohol has absolutely ravaged their lives, some people talked about not seeing their children in years and only now being reunited with them. Some talked of loves lost and the pain they had caused their families. And it made me stop and made me think and it made me be entirely grateful for the love of an amazing woman, who has stuck by me, when I have been at my darkest. How lucky one person can be in life I don’t know, but it renews my conviction that I caught this just before it was too late and when you hear stories of psychosis and lithium you release how dark this can be.

It reminded me of my “why” and what I am like at my worst: if ever I needed a reminder of what I was like at my worst and why staying strong is the right thing to do then AA is the place to do it. The first person I talked to asked me why I was there (he was lovely by the way!) and I said that I had let myself get out of control and the only person who I have truly loved and trusted deserved the best version of me I could give her and that I hadn’t been. Leigh could see I was emotional about it and whilst he didn’t take responsibility away from me counselled me that I was doing something about it and that when we are gripped by this devil that we aren’t ourselves and that is even more painful for our loved ones because they can see the real us in there. It reminded me just why breaking this habit has to happen, because my girl deserves the best version of me, and I owe it to myself never to allow my soul that pain ever again.

I met some good souls today, people who were well prepared to help me a stranger, because I had decided to help myself. Maybe the world isn’t such a torn apart place after all…same time next week?

I’m going to end with Bill’s words from the share of today:

291 Pain-Killer — or Pain-Healer

“I believe that when we were active alcoholics we drank mostly to kill pain of one kind or another – physical or emotional or psychic. Of course, everybody has a cracking point, and I suppose you reached yours – hence, the resort once more to the bottle. If I were you, I wouldn’t heap devastating blame on myself for this; on the other hand, the experience should redouble your conviction that alcohol has no permanent value as a pain-killer.”

In every A.A. story, pain has been the price of admission into a new life. But this admission price purchased more than we expected. It led us to a measure of humility, which we soon discovered to be a healer of pain. We began to fear pain less, and desire humility more than ever.