It has been six days and counting. At first I thought, "sure, I can go to a few meetings, it will all be fine." That was day one after the first meeting. That was after the sobbing and the fear and the apprehension of walking into a strange place where everyone could read the sign on my huge forehead that said "newcomer."
That was really my second thought. My first thought was, "Oh my god, I need to figure out how to stop destroying myself." My good friend, my best friend, was sitting there once again, trying not to repeat what he's said again and again and again when I finally made a decision to change my behavior. I could feel his words upon me even when he wasn't saying them; get the shit out of my life, simplify, stop getting in my own way. Then there was my counselor's words. He had given me The List of things I could do to deal with my pain and angst; go to the gym, breathe, meditate, go to a meeting, call someone I trust. This was not a list I really wanted to work off of, but again, I didn't have a choice anymore.
Nobody wants to be a stereotype. I have friends who have responded as if I have joined a cult. All I do know is that it has only been six very long days and I am proud to be where I am instead of with my head in the toilet somewhere or in a bar when the sun comes up.