old timers
i was reflecting on old relationships today, and i thought of an old timer i used to confide in. she was maybe in her 70s and had about 25 years of sobriety. in retrospect, the advice she gave me was horrible. i can’t believe i ever took her seriously.
for one, i got my first-ever full-time job offer, and she said it was a bad idea. in her view, i needed an “easy” job to focus on recovery. mind you, she also would tell me i was selfish for relying on my parents for financial support. she’d go as far as describing her experience with homelessness to evidence her staunch independence.
so, i, a person with mental illness who's reliant on having access to insurance, therapy, and medications to stay sane, should sacrifice stability and risk all the consequences that come with that to…make a point? also, i work an “easy” job (whatever that means) now after leaving my full-time position due to a mental health crisis and searching for employment for over a year, and i don’t even make close to a livable wage. i wish i could be fully independent again too, but at the risk of my safety? absolutely not. it’s a privilege i don’t take lightly.
she’d go on and on about how young newcomers like myself don’t know a damn thing and how much better “old school” aa was. this was so hypocritical because we met in an online aa meeting for women of color and were allowed to discuss “outside issues” like racism and misogyny. why is change so bad? clearly, we were both benefiting from it.
i don’t want to be anything like her at her age. she didn’t have any close family members and would gossip about the other older aa women with me, a 20-something-year-old. it’s just depressing.