Alcoholics Anonymous

‘Hi everyone. My name is Nick and I’m an alcoholic and I vow to never drink again,’ his gruff voice echoed in the hall.

‘Hi Nick,’ the room chimed in unison as they welcomed him to the group. 

****

The room was not unusual; if anything it was quite ordinary. The same can not be said for the people sitting in the chairs. The chairs were centered in the middle of the room in a circle formation- well, more of an oval. The rest of the room was bland. Except for a silver cross that hung directly behind Nick. I always thought that a church was a weird place to hold these types of meetings, especially when most of them take place at night. I know many Christians would disagree. I can hear my aunts voice now,

‘They’re confessing to their sins and god will forgive them. He will guide them on the right path.’

This was one of those meetings. The hall was illuminated by the lights above. Yet, the room still managed to look dim. Some would say that the lighting complimented the mood. Each person in that circle had managed to hit rock bottom. Each person in that circle had a story. But today we focus on Nicks.

****

‘I don’t know when it started. That’s the truth. I don’t know when the night out with the lads became a way for me to cope. I don’t know when my whole mood depended around a bottle. But what I do know is that I would have never admitted this- to myself or to anyone- a year ago.’

They sat in silence. They watched as his eyes brimmed with tears and then they watched as he pushed them away. They observed but they never said a word.

‘My old mindset was unbelievably toxic. Everyone has something to take the edge off, right? So why should it matter that I start drinking at 8am everyday. It’s just living life on the edge. More like tumbling down a bottomless pit. I just never seemed to try to climb out, to drag myself from the hands of this, of this monster. It has taken too much from me.’

They nodded their heads in unison. They could relate. They knew this feeling all too well as they have also fallen victim to the clutches of a bottle. A vodka bottle. 

His legs trembled as the urge to give up, the urge that's so deeply instilled in him, tried to push him down. He wouldn’t give in, not this time. 

‘At first it was an escape, yanno? With everything going on. It’s like something in me broke and I tried to fill the emptiness with something I could rely on. We can’t rely on people. I tried, I really did try too. But with the divorce and the depression and the loneliness. The depression came first. A silent killer it is. It made me my own worst enemy. But then I lost Joe.’

Their faces were unchanged, compassionate. They were taking in every word he said, knowing that this wasn’t easy. Confessing your worst sins in front of strangers was not easy. 

‘ He couldn’t handle the days where i would get so drunk i wouldn’t even remember drinking; he couldn’t handle the days i couldn’t get out of bed; he couldn’t handle the days i spent all our money on this magical juice that numbed all the pain. I don’t blame him. I used too. But not anymore. I know what I did was not right and it took losing everything to make me realise I had a problem.’

The crucifix behind him shone silver. It glinted in the moonlight that happened to shine through the window at that precise moment. Call it fate; call it a coincidence. Someone else was listening to his story. 

‘The chain of events was triggered by the drink and I hope, because that’s all I have now, that I can reverse what I’ve done. I know the ugly truth now. It was a hard pill to swallow. I suppose that’s why I’ve never tried to do it before. I was suppressed, I was suffocated, I was controlled by this dependency. It truly terrifies me now how much control I let it have. How many things do I let it ruin before I say enough is enough?’

There was complete silence.

‘Too many,’ he whispered.

 More to himself than anyone else. But they still heard and they understood. They knew what it was like to have no control. They knew how it felt to be powerless to a craving they’d have to fight everyday. 

They all plan on fighting; fighting for the rest of their lives. 

‘The hardest hit was losing Joe. I barely remember anything from the months after he left. I suspect that I was clutching scotch, laying in my own sick and not wanting to wake up the next morning. I mean that's how everyday was for me.’

‘I know my original statement was brazen. Every alcoholic and every one who knows an alcoholic will know that it’s not as easy as just vowing to not drink. I know the weight I have to carry everyday and I’m more than ready to do it. We know that there will be bad days. Days where our minds are so fixating on taking a drink. Just one little sip. But I know that we will not give in because we have not fought this just to cave. You wouldn’t go to battle just to surrender.’

They watched him put their thoughts into words as he spoke for all of them. Though not all their stories are the same, they all still face the war that is addiction. They have to wake up every day knowing that they're in an ongoing battle with themselves. They hope to be victorious. 

He took a deep breathe and he proudly announced the last few words,

‘Hi everyone. My name is Nick and I’m an alcoholic and I vow to never drink again.’