A phone starts to ring, and Davis reaches in his pocket and kills what I’m assuming was an alarm. It isn’t lost on me that he didn’t wait outside until right at seven today. Was he waiting on me this entire time? No way, that’s impossible. Shaking my head to clear the thought, Davis pushes up to his feet. “Good afternoon everyone, and welcome to the regular meeting of the Jersey City group of Alcoholics Anonymous. My name is Davis, and I’m an alcoholic.”
Everyone echoes, “Hi, Davis.”
“Ours is an open meeting of AA. We’re glad you’re here. Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength, and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from alcoholism. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.” Davis explainsthe importance of anonymity, and the four absolutes of AA: honesty, unselfishness, purity, and love. After he reads a passage from what he calls the ‘Big Book’ he starts his testimony.
I quickly become engrossed in Davis’ story. I’m hanging on to every word as he tells of the absolute hell he lived in as an active addict. He was raised by alcoholic parents, and his dad was abusive. He started drinking at twelve to numb the pain. By the time he was seventeen, he was on the streets just trying to survive. He lived through some horrid shit. It wasn’t until he met a man who promised him a warm meal for coming with him that he showed up here, in this very basement. Davis talks about his now sponsor and best friend, Reid, who worked tirelessly to help get him clean and off the streets. He smiles over at a man who looks to be in his early to mid-thirties.
“Reid gave me the opportunity to save my own life. Today I’m five and a half years sober. I have a beautiful wife and a baby on the way. I’ve worked the steps, I live my life by the book, and I take it one day at a time. Every so often, the thought of a drink does cross my mind, but on those days I focus on what I would lose if I acted on that. My family, and everything good in my life. If you’re here today and you’re thinking that there’s no way you’ll be standing where I am with this much time under your belt, I’d just like to remind you that on my day one, I could have never imagined that I’d be on day two thousand and eight. Hell, on my day one I never imagined I’d hit day two. No one walks in here for the first time batting a thousand.”
He opens up the floor for anyone else who would like to share. While we’re listening to a woman, Jemma, talking abouther struggle this week and how she overcame the urge to drink on the anniversary of her child’s passing, Kie reaches over and squeezes the back of my neck. It’s gentle. He’s showing support the best way he knows how. We listen to a few more people with significantly less sobriety time than Davis share their struggles. Some people I’m sure would assume this is discouraging, but it’s actually the opposite. Thirty days seems a lot more attainable than in the hundreds or thousands. I know I can get there, but I’ve always been someone who focuses on smaller goals to get to the bigger ones.
After everyone else has shared, Davis waits a solid minute before closing out the meeting with the serenity prayer. He looks around the room. “As always, please remember: who you see here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here.”
“Hear, hear!” A few people reply in unison.
Everyone stands and begins collecting their things. Not me though. My hands are still clasped in front of me, my forearms resting on my thighs, and my head hung low, looking at the ground. I can’t seem to force myself to stand from this too small chair. Davis’ words echo over and over in my head,‘No one walks in here for the first time batting a thousand.’
Dammit if that didn’t hit me directly in the solar plexus. There’s no way he could have known how deeply those words would carve their way into my chest. I feel the burn in the backs of my eyes before I watch as the first tears drop and splat straight onto the unforgiving concrete floor. I’m so far away from even batting ten at this point. My mind is clearer now that I’ve stopped drinking, but that does nothing but make way for the guilt and the gravity of my life choices to almost crush me. I feel a hand grasp my shoulder in silentsolidarity. A second later someone else grasps my other one. I know one is Kieran, and he wouldn’t let anyone fuck with me ever, nevertheless right now.
It isn’t until Kie kneels in front of me and pulls me into his embrace that it clicks: there’s two other men witnessing this weakness. I give myself thirty seconds to get it together, then I pull back from Kieran and wipe ferociously at my tears. “I’m fine.” Kieran stands up, and a second later I’m following suit, knocking the hands off my shoulders. I turn to find Davis and his sponsor Reid watching me like I’m a caged animal.
“Sorry, I’ve just been dealing with a lot. I’m good. I’m just trying to do this sober thing while my girlfriend is trying to find a new kidney. It’s a lot.”
“How long have you been ‘trying to do this sober thing?’” Davis asks carefully.
“I’m fifteen days sober today.” I lift my chin, because fuck them if they try to shame me for that.
“Dude, that’s awesome!” Reid exclaims, pumping a fist into the air.
“But is it? It hasn’t even been three weeks, and I’m already feigning for a whiskey. I’m trying to keep my shit together, but I’ve got to be there for her without actually being there, and I want nothing more than to show up at her apartment tonight.”
“Are you getting sober for her, or for yourself?” Reid asks me, and I take a minute to mull over what he asked. I really think about it.
“Me. I deserve to live a sober life. Don’t get me wrong, she deserves a sober partner who can be her support during all of this, and I’m going to be that for her. But I didn’t make this decision for anyone but myself.”
“You know it isn’t advised to be in a relationship in the first year of sobriety.” Davis raises his eyebrow at me.
“I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care what I have to do. She doesn’t drink. She’s fucking dying for God’s sake. You’re fucked if you think I’m not staying by her side.”
He throws his hands up in surrender as Kieran moves partially in front of me.
“I’m not saying you have to leave her, I’m just letting you know this is going to be exponentially harder because of what she has going on.”
“Then let it be fucking harder, but Lelonie isn’t going anywhere.”
“Alright, alright. I got you. What are your plans tomorrow?”
The sudden change of subject pulls me up short, “What?”
“You heard me.”
I take a second to wrack my brain. I’m going to have to work, and I need to try to keep a close eye on Lee. She has dialysis tomorrow, and I know those days are harder for her. I’ve never been able to take care of her through that, and it pains me that I’m in the same city and still can’t.
“My girlfriend has dialysis tomorrow. I’m going to be blowing up her and her family’s phones to make sure she’s okay. I’ll work somewhere in there too.” I answer, scrubbing my hands over my eyes, then back to the top of my head, lacing my fingers.
“So if I said to give me a call around eleven, and then give Reid a call at about three, you’d do it?”
“Yeah, I guess. Why?” I’m skeptical about this whole conversation.
