On the heels of my previous post talking about my issues with alcohol I found myself receiving a lot of support. I’m not terribly surprised. The men and women in my life are flipping fantastic. For some reason they’ve not left me even when I wouldn’t have blamed them if they did; even when I want nothing more than to leave myself.
But after yesterday morning’s meeting, after a therapeutic couple hours spent with two of my Inner-most Circle, I went to a second meeting. I went to a second meeting – yes on the same day – and said, “My name is Kate and I’m an alcoholic.” I said it for the first time. It was one of the hardest fucking things I’ve ever done.
Based on what I’ve heard in the six meetings total I’ve gone to, two of them for myself, I don’t anticipate a time when saying, “My name is Kate and I’m alcoholic,” is going to get easier. Like I said in my last post I know there’s a reason cliches become cliche – and the first step being the hardest is most assuredly a cliche.
What I didn’t anticipate, after a year sober, was having the first twenty-four hours as an alcoholic being so darned hard.