She’s a friend who’s been sober for more than 20 years. A devout member of the AA, she is religious about it. Even today, her ex-alcoholicness is an important part of her identity and her sense of achievement. It is her story, her life.
At a recent dinner …
“Oh no! This is your glass. I’ve already had half of it thinking it was mine. I didn’t even taste the gin in it. Oh no!” She said to Si.
‘Yes. We made our drinks together before I went to the loo. Your lime-soda was in the pink glass and my G&T was in the blue. I thought you knew. This is an easy mistake to make amidst all the music and the noise. Don’t worry. Forget about it. You obviously didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened.’
“Yes. But …”
The AA says: “No one who has become an alcoholic has ever ceased to be an alcoholic. The mere fact of abstaining from alcohol for months or even years has never qualified an alcoholic to drink “normally” or socially. Once the individual has crossed the borderline from heavy drinking to irresponsible alcoholic drinking, there seems to be no retreat.”
I dread to think of the turmoil within her in the aftermath of that innocent mistake. I can’t claim to understand how she must feel. It came as a shock when she texted us to say she didn’t want to see us anymore.
It made me sad. It made me see the power of our beliefs and narratives, how they can hold us hostage if we let them. I can’t do much except pray for us all.
May we all grow in the ability to love ourselves, and one another.
May we grow in the ability to catch ourselves when we start spinning out.
May we all be able to stay with our experience as it is.
May we all remember, when we’re getting all caught up, to go look at the sky.
May we remember when we’re hurting, that other people are in the same boat. Rather than letting our hurt make us more afraid, allow that same suffering help us realize our shared humanity.
