Everything I need to know I learned in AA
By: Melissa Steussy
Tags: Sobriety, Alcohol Addiction, Alcoholics Anonymous, Recovery, Adult Child Of Alcoholics

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Everything I need to know I learned in AA

This is not the tagline I thought I would grow up to live by

There was a popular book many years ago called, “Everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarten.” It has a list of things many of us learned at a young age, like wash your hands, don’t take things that aren’t yours and don’t hit people.

I feel like I missed the mark. I spent many years taking things that weren’t mine, causing people unnecessary pain out of my selfish decisions, and not taking care of myself (at all).

At the age of 12, I was drinking, stealing, and sexually active. By 21, I had been court-ordered to AA meetings. In that short span, I created enough wreckage and brain damage to be a full-fledged alcoholic and drug addict.

23 years ago this month I was pulled over for a DUI. Not a big deal for most. I know many people that have had multiple, but for me, at that time it was the intervention I didn’t know I needed.

I had been struggling with addiction, I was depressed, suicidal, and definitely not living a life I was proud of. I won’t go into detail as we all know the feeling of running and gunning, looking for the next drink or drug, waking up with remorse, doing it all over again.

I had turned 21 six months prior, and remember feeling like I didn’t have much left in me. What is the point of this life? I felt so empty and saw no purpose.

Photo by Trym Nilsen on Unsplash

I had grown up in an alcoholic home, my dad (who I’d met at 16) was incarcerated yet again after a meth deal had gone bad. My mom and her boyfriend were cycling through their own addictions and I just felt really alone. I had a retail job and had gone out for a girlfriend’s birthday. I didn’t foresee myself doing a field sobriety test on the side of the road and being handcuffed in the back of a police car.

I just felt really alone

Walking into the “AA Hall”

I was scared to attend AA for the first time, but found an Alano Club near me and decided to go to the 10 pm Hootowl meeting. This is when you could still smoke in meetings. I walked in and this place was packed. There were pool tables and a little barista area that served food and coffee. I remember seeing young people laughing and having fun. It definitely wasn’t what I expected. I got a drink, and popped into the backroom for the “candlelight meeting.” It was dark and I hoped no one would look in my direction or try to talk to me.

The insane thing was when people started sharing ( it seemed like all older men) they were speaking my language. I surprisingly resonated with all of it. I, in turn, felt less alone and left with a morsel of hope. I didn’t get sober right away, but the next time I drank or used I had some AA in the back of my mind, which eventually starts to break down that wall of denial, rationalization, and justification and it got harder to enjoy my drinking and drug use.

The insane thing was when people started sharing ( it seemed like all older men) they were speaking my language.

I (sometimes begrudgingly) started attending more meetings to get my court slip signed. Some were in Churches and some at that hall, but they all had that welcoming feeling of comradery and laughter. I didn’t know what the heck these alkies thought was so funny, but eventually, I learned to find some joy and connection in the fellowship as well.

I saw the steps on the wall and felt some relief when I saw the words God and the 4th one that said I would be able to make a searching and fearless moral inventory. I didn’t grow up in Church or ever learn about God, but I had a real curiosity and it was my last hope. My load felt heavy. The inferiority and aloneness were real, and I just hoped I could lighten it by telling someone what I’d been through. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on to all of it on my own.

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I kept attending and people called me out on my bull****. I started to look forward to seeing certain people and soon enough I had a little bounce in my step. I began to notice the colors of the leaves and could almost look people in the eye for once.

Much time has passed and it hasn’t always been easy, but as they say, my worst day sober is better than my best day drunk and using. Most importantly I have kids that have never seen their mom drunk or hungover. I never wanted to be that drunk mom that I had growing up. I wanted to break that cycle but didn’t know-how.

So thankful for the other people walking this road and for my recovery.

“Without realizing it, we fill important places in each other’s lives. It’s that way with the guy at the corner grocery, the mechanic at the local garage, the family doctor, teachers, neighbors, coworkers. Good people who are always “there,” who can be relied upon in small, important ways. People who teach us, bless us, encourage us, support us, uplift us in the dailiness of life. We never tell them. I don’t know why, but we don’t.

And, of course, we fill that role ourselves. There are those who depend on us, watch us, learn from us, take from us. And we never know.

You may never have proof of your importance, but you are more important than you think. There are always those who couldn’t do without you. The rub is that you don’t always know who.”

― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten