My morning meeting brought these fleeting thoughts to mind as I was actually listening to people when they shared instead of thinking about myself . . .
We are wrecked when we enter The Rooms. We are done. Alcohol, which had ceased working a long time ago, was no longer a solution. We finally knew this.
We recognize a kindred spirit pretty quickly if we're really alcoholic. It's clear that we were among like-minded people.
Children of Chaos, we were finally in a situation where no one was telling us what to do. How we HATE being told what to do. When we're told what to do we don't do it, often gleefully, balefully, preferring to do the exact opposite thing purely out of spite.
We find out in a hell of a hurry that our time of pointing the finger (not that finger, the index finger, get your mind out of the gutter) at people, places, and things was over. We are told to concentrate on the three fingers pointing right back at us and at the thumb, pointed up at heaven or God or whatever, just up for once in our miserable lives.
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