Yesterday, we went to our meeting, and the format used the “topic bag” where you pull a topic out of a bag and then talk on it. That way, you don’t know your topic until you pull it, so you don’t sit there and think about what you’re going to say until it’s your turn. I pulled “fear of success,” and honestly I couldn’t relate, even though Carole was sitting next to me gesturing and whispering that, apparently, I have a huge fear of success, plainly visible to her and to my mother. They talked about it, recently, when my mother was here. Oh joy.
Then we went to the hospital to make sure Carole’s heart is OK. It is.
Off and on the topic, when I count the people I’ve known in AA who died young and died from drugs and alcohol, all but one that I can think of used pills as well. And maybe the one I’m thinking of who didn’t, who ran out of her house drunk and got hit by a car, was also using pills. Maybe my father didn’t use pills. I don’t know if he did. It just seems to easy, to me, for people to get a doctor to prescribe them. I’ve heard it said that doctors don’t understand addiction and maybe some do and maybe some don’t. Addicts understand it, though, and they know how to use doctors.
Or just take what the doctor says and run with it. Doctors (and vets) really want to fix things, that’s what they are there for. What fixes things in the majority of people could have a fatal effect for an alcoholic. The return of sanity, in this regard, is some kind of impossible. I may be completely sane as far as alcohol and drugs are concerned, but once I take a drink or a drug, my sanity is gone.
I’m not sure why I went there, but tonight I am profoundly grateful that my attitude about drugs and alcohol has evolved into what it is, because that has kept me safe from those things now for decades.