I don’t have any idea how this is for non-alcoholic/addicts, but for me, I’ve pretty much spent my entire life trying to find a place where I “fit”.
Sure, there have been miscellaneous moments here & there, where I felt like I belonged (or maybe it was just less apparent that I DIDN’T, I don’t know), but by and large, I’ve overwhelmingly felt like The Ugly Duckling…
So, this evening I went to a meeting with some others in recovery, and the topic was (as far as I could tell) “Belonging”.
There was a person there for their first meeting, and the discussion was a really good one, especially considering how confusing and awkward things are in early sobriety. The unanimous consensus was that we’d all been quite aware of “not fitting in”, until becoming active in our own recovery. The steps, in my experience, helped me to find the commonality of all of the addicts I’ve gotten to know. When I’m in a meeting, I know I’m home. It’s been that way since the first, even when my first meeting was across the ocean and a lot was in a language I don’t speak. (As I write that, it occurs to me that even in meetings here, for english-speaking folks, the language of recovery is a foreign one. But the Spirit of recovery transcends words.)
I took special notice when someone said they’d had 20+ years sober, up until just a few months ago. (Gulp.) There, but for the grace of God, go I.
As I drove home I thought about how something as simple as listening to a family of strangers as they shared their hearts could give me such hope.
I’m where I belong, now: with my man, and my boy, and my furbabies. Everything else is, well, ultimately, temporary, I guess.
Happy Friday, everyone.
Feelings ain’t facts.