THE CURE

THE CURE

She was looking pretty puffy this morning, this 31st of December 2012. And tired. And a bit restless and fidgety. But at least she had gotten herself to the meeting. She had been absent for the past three months and then had, after a few meetings in September, been absent for a month in August. After having been a regular at this meeting  at which we celebrated one year this Christmas in this room, she seemed to disappear from regular attendance.

Today the room  filled up with peripatetic members, some of whom I knew from other meetings and because of the holiday had suddenly become available for this  New Year's eve morning meeting. This was similar to last week for the Christmas Eve day when we were inundated with apprehensive partygoers hoping for a bit of AA fortitude before packing off over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house festivities.

It was gratifying to see how the group had grown and how our presence was useful as a stopgap for those who knew they needed a shot of what we had to give, which was to brush up on beginner's AA principles. So there were several men and women there with a few days of sobriety and then others with several years up to 21 years. A good range.

And then she came in, late, as was her wont, to take her seat, finally after all those months of being gone from this room. And she didn't have to say that she had gone out because it was written all over her swollen features and bloated body. She clearly  had gained some 12-15 pounds and her face had that rounded swollen feature of the worn out alcoholic. Luckily, the color of her skin was still good.

The meeting is for beginners and it follows a structured format. She is used to that format but it I could see her squirming off to the side of my vision, the antsiness of trying to wait until the sharing began being evident from the body language.

Finally, when the organized part of the meeting was over and calls for sharing to begin were made her hand shot up and with barely a moment's hesitation she started in: "I've been away I know, and I know you know, and I suspect you know why. I always was someone who really loved drinking. I liked to drink, I like the atmosphere of drinking the sounds of drinking, the glasses, the everything about drinking.

"But I forgot that I can't stop drinking. I know I should remember those things because I have a daughter, and I always have to stop because of her. That's why I always have to stop. I want to be a sober mom. I don't want her story to be that she had a doped up father and a drunk for a mother.  

"But when I last got sober there was something missing, I don't know, I was just not feeling right. I did not feel good about myself but I did not seek out the help of anyone to see what might be wrong.  So I worked two then three jobs to put those feelings out of my head. And finally when I stopped to consider what might be wrong and I had enough time to think about it, I felt sad and I drank.

"And you all know that when I drank I could not stop. But then DCS started to ask questions to my daughter because she was missing school because she was staying home to make sure that I was OK. 

"And I lost my job...Did I mention that I lost my job? Of course I lost my job! They sent letter after letter which I didn't open because I was afraid they would confront me with my habit. They had been so good to take me back the last time. But this time, of course, they had to let me go.

"So this time I went to an outpatient drug facility where they started treating me for depression and alcoholism. I had always tried to avoid being dual diagnosed in the past. I wanted to be the only "sane" drunk in my family, but guess what, I'm not."

Finally, she appeared exhausted and stopped.

I was happy to hear from her. I was happy that she came because I had wondered where she was, missing her every Monday, waiting to see if at about 7:45 AM she would wander into the meeting, abashed at her tardiness but usually pleased that she was able to get to the meeting saying that "the only bad meeting is the one that you missed".

She sure did get that right.  And just the other day last week I saw her sister, also in the program, and wondered when I would see her again, fearing what I had long suspected and as she admitted today, that she had gone out.

And it is interesting that one of the topics that we talk about in a beginner's meeting is "getting proper medical and dental care". Part of that medical care is to get proper "psychiatric medical care".

I remember when she first came in to our group over a year ago, when we went over that admonition it was to assure people that visiting a physician to determine the extent of damage you have done is meant to help you chart a course of recovery. She was excited with that news and promptly saw her gastroenterologist to determine that she was alright.

The same holds true for dental and mental care.  You may need medication for depression or in the special case of bipolar disease, special medication for each of those conditions. AA can help with controlling alcoholism but it cannot help very much with mood disorders in which alcohol is used to modify the pain of the mental anguish in the absence of appropriate and correctly taken medication.  

Perhaps this detour has demonstrated that imperative of a sober life. For her, child services and her daughter, all need a rest from the shadow of volatile spirits. And the realization that her mood disorder may be the culprit undermining previously tentative sobriety could be a boon and with the help of medication, bring about the desired outcome.

But the rest is up to her, and the acknowledgement that the other right medications are AA, persistence and time.

© res 12/31/2012