The topic tonight was freedom.
What I understood: We were slaves to our addiction. Our nights were predispositioned. Drugs and alcohol made my decisions for me whether it was how late I stayed up, when I went home, if I went home, who I went home with, what I would feel like the next day, and how many hours or days it would be until I could do it again.
The first time I heard alcoholism called “the disease of more,” a light turned on in my head. The sometimes dulling and sometimes roaring persistent thirst for alcohol barely scratched the surface of my irrational fear of never having enough. This fear dominated my life then and it has a steady hold now.
My freedom used to be picking up and moving on; it was what outsiders called free spirited, and I now recognize as: fear with a passport.
There was no way I could accomplish what my friends had, I would never have a job I was good at so why try at all, I would never be organized enough to dress myself professionally, I’m always disgusting, I don’t belong, no one takes me seriously, everyone can see right through me….the list of resentments and paranoias go on forever. My self-doubt suffocated any and all hope for my future, until now. Today I have choices.
Someone said in the meeting tonight: “the only person who can crush your dreams, is you.”