To anyone lurking: I wish I’d gone to my first AA meeting years ago.
I knew I was an alcoholic for years.
Like a lot of us, I tried to beat it on my own. Sometimes I managed weeks. Once, years ago, I even stayed sober for a year. I wore that year like a badge of honour. I told myself it proved I wasn’t really powerless, that I could choose sobriety whenever I truly wanted it.
Looking back, that was just another lie my alcoholism told me.
Yes, I wasn’t drinking, but I was white-knuckling life. My walls were up. I was restless, irritable, and discontent from those closest to me. I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin, and I certainly wasn’t at peace.
Then there was the other lie.
I have a successful career, I’m the sole breadwinner for my young family, and I’ve achieved more professionally and financially than I ever imagined would be possible. So I convinced myself that if I could hold all of that together, then surely my drinking couldn’t be that bad.
“I’ve had a stressful week.”
“I’ve earned this.”
“I’ve just landed a huge bonus.”
“I deserve a blowout.”
At first, I was the fun guy everyone wanted around. But their night would end.
Mine never did.
I’d always find a way to keep drinking.
People say alcoholism is a progressive disease. I’d heard those words before, but I never truly understood them until I lived them. Looking back over years of broken promises to myself and others, failed attempts at sobriety, blackouts, trips to the hospital, and increasingly dangerous behaviour, I can see just how much worse it became. I came frighteningly close to losing everything that actually matters, so many times, but never actually did!
A little over three weeks ago, I walked into my first AA meeting.
I’d spent four years trying to fight this alone (after acknowledging it), and (on real reflection) I’d been an alcoholic for over twenty years, although for many of those years I couldn’t admit it.
It took me so long because I was terrified.
Terrified of saying the words out loud.
Terrified of admitting I needed help.
Terrified that maybe I wasn’t “bad enough.”
Maybe I didn’t qualify.
Maybe they’d think I was wasting their time because I hadn’t lost everything yet.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The meetings have been full of people from every walk of life, all brought together by the same problem. There hasn’t been a single meeting where I haven’t heard something that made me think, “That’s me.”
These are my people.
I only wish I’d walked through those doors sooner.
Within two weeks I’d collected a dozen phone numbers from warm, kind, generous people who genuinely wanted nothing from me except for me to stay sober. In every area of my life I’ve met good people, but I’ve never experienced a welcome quite like I found in AA.
I walked into my first meeting an emotional wreck. My last drink had been about fourteen hours earlier - it was a real low point for me but I won’t get into the war story.
I’ve gotten sober on my own before, so I have something to compare this with.
This feels different.
The changes aren’t just about not drinking. They’re showing up everywhere. I’m more peaceful than I’ve ever been. I’m quicker to admit when I’m wrong. I’m more honest. I’m learning to let go of things I can’t control instead of trying to force life to go my way.
Before AA, “serenity” wasn’t a word that meant much to me. Now, for the first time in my adult life, I understand what it feels like. Not perfectly. Not every day. But more often than not. And when I lose it, I’m learning there are tools to help me find it again.
So if you’re lurking here, wondering whether to go to your first meeting, this is for you.
I built it up in my head for years. I convinced myself I wasn’t bad enough, that I should fix it alone, that I wasn’t like “those people.”
Then I walked through the doors and realised they were my people.
If you’re scared, I was too.
But walking into that first meeting was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
Yes, I am very early into my program, I haven’t worked all steps, and I don’t have much authority on this subject other than the fact I am an Alcoholic, and this is my experience thus far with AA.
I write this both with hope to help others exploring AA, and as a practice of reflective writing to help process this all for myself.