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My wife sent me to the grocery store to buy a lengthy list of things on Dec. 31. The store was absolute mayhem. The average age of customers was roughly 114 years old, so it was cart chaos, people talking on speaker phones with their great-great-great grandkids, people yelling at store workers… you name it.
I found myself buying groceries and then picking up lots of resentments for free. It took awhile to get through the store and pay. By the time I got out of the store, I was very aggravated.
But as I went out the front door of the store, I got a nice blast of winter air. I took a deep breath and spent a second feeling grateful for being sober this time of year.
I think most people consider Christmas and Thanksgiving to be the toughest holidays to get through without drugs and alcohol. But for me, it’s always been New Year’s at the top of the list because of what a conflicting set of emotions I try to work through.
There’s the agonizing memories of how many times during my active addiction days that I looked toward the calendar flipping to a new year as the chance to stop drinking and drugging. I kept thinking the same thing millions of Americans think about Jan. 1—a new year, a new me.
Except… Jan. 1 was always just another day. I never had any kind of plan to really try to get sober. I just had a magic wish that I wanted a non-existent genie to grant me. So I felt grateful that I eventually asked for help, and I don’t have to spend Dec. 31 in agony, alone, fingers crossed that I could make it to the following midnight without drinking.
I also had a moment outside the grocery store where I thought about how many other people are doing the same thing I used to. Sitting at home, drinking hard tonight with the hope that this is the absolute final time it’s ever going to happen… and then probably not being able to stay sober just because the calendar flips to a new year. I felt so much pain and shame and hopelessness on those nights, so I said a quick prayer under my breath for all those people as I started to load groceries into my car.
I closed the trunk of my car and then took my cart over to the cart return just as a car was pulling in. And in that car… another recovering alcoholic. We shook hands and talked for a bit. I’ve known him for about 10 years, but we never exchanged numbers or anything. I hadn’t seen him in a few months because he’s a morning meeting person and I generally hit evening meetings. He said something along the lines of, “Great seeing you. I wish I saw you at more meetings, because I have always enjoyed hearing you share, and I always get something out of your message.”
I said thank you, and I instantly felt a little better about the whole grocery store trip. It’s amazing what running into another sober person can do to bring you back to the present.
At the end of the conversation, we shook hands and I turned to leave. He stopped for a second and looked at me and said, “Uh… remind me, what’s your name again? Is it Ben?”
I had to laugh because he’d just said something I took as a profound compliment about having an impact on his life, and it turns out he had no idea what my name was. But then again, recovery is about the exact nature of us, not the exact details. I’m not sure I need to know peoples’ names in order to stay sober and live a beautiful life. I reminded him of my name, but left by saying, “You can call me whatever want,” and we both had a good laugh as we went our separate ways.
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
HEARD AT MEETINGS
"I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes three or four gang up on me at once."
(Credit: Grapevine, June 2009, by Tommy H. of Baton Rouge, La.)
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