Alcoholics Anonymous

Last week I went to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with one of my most favorite people in the world. It was partially out of support, partly out of curiosity. The only experience I have with AA is through literature and cinema. And life is never quite like in the movies (or is it the other way around?). Lo and behold: exactly like a scene from any number of films. The atmosphere is so strange that there is no need to exaggerate it for the big screen. I felt like Marla Singer--a voyeur--until tears formed behind my eyes during the story from a man who wanted to feel normal. His brother, his friends, his colleagues; they were all living life and he didn't know how. Another man spoke about self-possession, that for the first time ever he was discovering himself and controlling his life. Another, about sanity: each day that he stayed sober was less insane. A woman, unemployed for two years, spoke about squatting in her own home with her daughter.

Although I have not experienced addiction, and am thus unable to relate on that level, each story affected me on a personal level. Empathy, that of a human listening to another human describing deep and lasting pain, fear, anger, resignation, hope. I can't imagine the daily struggle that each individual at the meeting must face. The overwhelming urge to use whatever drug of choice, the self-loathing. Each person mentioned living each day at a time, not thinking about tomorrow. I try to live by this but for very different reasons.

The experience was emotionally draining. My companion said that after a few meetings, you stop listening to everything, that it has less impact. I was relieved.