About seven years ago, when I was heavy into my drinking and I started to realize that I was wreaking my life with my drinking and needed help I thought about giving AA a try. I thought about it alot. So much, in fact, that I would get anxious at just that--the "thought"--of going to a meeting for the first time. Many drinks and more wreckage later, I finally did walk into my first AA meeting. I felt so scared, so all alone. Several people came up to me, introduced themselves and welcomed me. I didn't want to give them my name but I did. I really just wanted to be invisible to everyone and silently watch what was going on during the meeting. I didn't feel like I fit in. This was not an unusual thing for me because I never felt like I fit in anywhere....church, my daughter's school functions, even the grocery store. I needed to drink before going through any events where there were other people. I didn't drink before this AA meeting, though. I knew I had to be sober before I walked in there. I wanted to drink to relax, but I knew people would smell alcohol on me, and perhaps I would make a fool out of myself and worse case scenario, be told I needed to leave. So my last drink was the night before I decided to go to a meeting.

A pretty 30-something year old woman who looked like she didn't belong in an AA meeting (I have a bad habit of stereotyping sometimes) approached me, gave me a hug and sat beside me. She asked if I wanted a cup of coffee, which I did and since I couldn't have a glass of wine, at least it was something to drink. The meeting started and I listened to the shares. I am not sure if it was me being ashamed of myself and my drinking and/or the people sharing and the words hit close to home with me but I started to cry. Not just silent sniffles, but almost sobs. So the tears flowed and even more embarrassing to me, my nose started running. I didn't want to get up and go to the restroom out of embarrassment and drawing even more attention to myself, so I just sat there hoping no one noticed. I did see others in the meeting keep looking at me and in time I realized that it was only out of concern and not because they were upset at me for disrupting their meeting.  The pretty girl sitting beside me pulled out a lace trimmed white cotton hanky from her purse. She touched my shoulder and handed me the prissy little hanky. I shook my head no, because I didn't want to mess up such a pretty little thing with my mascara and nose drippings, and one which I didn't even know women still carried since the invention of Kleenex. But she insisted I take it, and it helped soak up some of my embarrassment. Toward the end of the meeting, when someone there handed out the chips, I went up and picked up my first white chip.

I made it through the meeting and felt a sense of relief that I was able to gather up enough courage within myself to attend. It was not to be the only white chip for me as I started drinking again about two weeks later.  I guess my life wasn't screwed up enough to keep me in AA.  But I always knew over the years that it was going to take me getting my butt back into AA before I would be able to stop. I tried and tried and tried to quit on my own and I just couldn't do it. The good thing is I kept going back and hopefully this last white chip--which is my fourth--will be my last white chip. I will always remember that lady handing me that hanky and how a simple gesture like that helped me get through my very first AA meeting.

BTY

By the way....I still have that hanky. For some reason she didn't want it back after I had used it....even when I told her I would wash it